by Meg Lelvis
“Hi, Jack.” She held her hand up to touch his. “I’m feeling better every day. Things seem to be working out.”
“Hey, great news.” He couldn’t help noticing her gaunt face and arms, but she should gain her weight back soon. Still, a glimpse of a red flag flashed in his mind.
“I’m glad you had an interesting time in Munich,” she said. “Jenny was telling me a little about it. Of course, Sherk gave me a report too.”
“Yeah, a great trip.” He wondered how much Sherk had told her.
“Drinks are in the kitchen, usual place.” Jenny said.
“Trying to get rid of me?”
“Always, Jack.” She turned her attention back to Erica.
He greeted Sherk and Jenny’s husband, Bob, who stood across the room chatting and drinking beer.
Jack patted Sherk’s shoulder. “Gotta grab a beer. Don’t go away.”
He made his way through the tidy living room, decorated in traditional style, with burgundy brocade upholstered chairs and sofa, framed landscape pictures, and an Audubon blue heron print above the fireplace mantle.
“Jacky, there you are. About time,” Maureen exclaimed as Jack walked into the kitchen. “Tommy’s about done grilling.”
“Hey, Ma. Happy Birthday.” He embraced his mother, catching a whiff of gardenia.
He turned to Tommy’s wife, and with a quick embrace said, “Hi, Mary. Good to see ya.”
“Hello, Jack. I’m sure you had a good time testing out all the German beer.” She wiped her hands on a dish towel.
“Jawohl,” He raised his brows and nodded, mocking how he’d impressed himself. “Even picked up some German language, meine Frau.” Jack took a can of Old Style from the fridge and popped the lid.
Mary said, “Tommy’s in the back waiting for your help manning the grill.”
She and Maureen chattered like birds, placing bowls of potato salad, baked beans covered with bacon strips, hamburger buns, and other items on the large circular kitchen table that would serve as a buffet. French doors led to a flagstone patio with a picnic table and an additional round table and deck chairs nearby.
Outside, Tommy, master of his domain, stood over the gas grill merging meat and fire as only a true American backyard chef could. For months now, Jack couldn’t help but draw comparisons between American and European ways of life. His mouth twitched. What the hell had happened to him? Along with his newfound sensitivity, he’d also apparently become culturally aware.
Trees and shrubs surrounded the back, creating a makeshift boundary from neighboring yards. Blue and purple hydrangeas still bloomed, along with several shrub roses. Hosta foliage filled in, leaving no empty beds. Mary and Maureen were the family gardeners.
“Master chef at work I see.” Jack closed the glass door behind him. “Kinda hot for grilling.”
“Not bad with two fans going.” Tommy looked up. “Got the ceiling fan, and one on the other side of the picnic table.”
Jack peered under the grill’s hood. “Whatcha got there?”
Tommy flipped over a burger with a long-handled spatula. He turned to Jack. “In honor of your trip, we got bratwurst. Hot dogs and hamburgers for the grandkids or anyone else who doesn’t appreciate German cuisine.”
After placing the spatula on the grill tray, he lifted a sheet of aluminum foil from a platter, grabbed a pair of tongs, and transferred the sausages to the grill. “Best way to cook bratwurst, Jack. Gotta parboil ‘em in beer so they’re cooked through, then grill to get the outsides brown and crisp.”
Jack shook his head. “I’ll see if they’re as good as we had at the Hofbräuhaus.” Jack envied Tommy’s relationship with his kids and grandkids. His chef’s apron, along with a few smudges of barbeque sauce, displayed an image of a spatula above the words, ‘Our dad is flipping awesome.’ A far cry from their pa.
He watched Tommy’s small grandsons tossing a Frisbee back and forth. Guess he’d never experience grandchildren. Don’t dwell on it, he ordered himself.
Fifteen minutes later, everyone was sitting at the two tables, eating and talking. They had filled their plates at the kitchen table and brought them outside to sit on the patio. Tommy stood ready to serve their meat of choice. “Ma, now you can finally sit down and chill.”
Maureen had insisted on bringing potato salad and rather than relaxing with the others in the living room, had putzed around in the kitchen.
Mary had told her earlier, “Come on, Maureen. Jenny and I will get everything ready,” You go and sit with your guests.”
“Oh, no. I want to help in the kitchen as long as I’m able.” She brushed her red curls from her cheek.
Jenny said, “Yeah, the real reason is, she doesn’t trust us to set up things the right way.”
“Oh, go on with you.” Maureen had proceeded to rearrange the silverware and dishes on the buffet table.
. . . . .
Sherk paused and put his fork down. “Tommy, this bratwurst is second to none. Sehr gut.”
“Yeah, gotta admit its almost up to Munich standards.” Jack leaned toward the little boys stuffing hot dogs and burgers in their mouths. “Hey, Ethan, don’t you wanna try a good German sausage?”
The boy hesitated, his tufty brown hair in his eyes. “No thanks, Uncle Jack. Maybe when I grow up.”
“Yeah,” Liam chimed in. “When we’re old like you and Grandpa.” He and Ethan snickered, seemingly proud of the joke.
Maureen chuckled and took a sip of red wine. “Boys, you be nice to your elders. Besides, if you think they’re old—”
“Ha, Gran, you’re the oldest one here,” Ethan said. “Grandpa said he hoped the house wouldn’t burn down from all—”
“Hush, Ethan,” Mary scolded. “Mind what you’re doing. You just dribbled ketchup on your new shirt. Your mom won’t be happy.” Tommy’s and Mary’s daughter and son-in-law were away for a long weekend.
And so, the chatter carried on amongst old and young alike. Jack noticed Erica ate less than half a burger and picked at the potato salad. She winced occasionally, obviously in discomfort. Still, she was a trooper, chatting and smiling as though all was right with her world. Jack wondered if Sherk had told her about the journal and their sister no one realized existed. No matter. As long as Ma was in the dark.
. . . . .
“Who’s ready for cake and ice cream?” Tommy called.
“We are, we are” yelled the little boys.
Maureen stood. “Let’s clear the tables and wait a while. I’m too full now.” She ruffled Liam’s hair.
The rest acquiesced as they carried their dishes inside to the kitchen.
“Ma, go in the living room, talk to Erica and Jenny,” Tommy said. “Mary and I will clean up here and Jack will do the grill.”
“Huh?” Jack said. “Rather do kitchen duty.” Didn’t want to admit he never learned how to grill, nor had he wanted to. Besides, “kitchen duty” would give him a chance to talk to Mary. See if Tommy had told her about the journal and their new sister.
“My brother volunteering to do dishes.” Tommy turned to the others and joked, “I told you Germany had softened him.” Then to Jack: “Go ahead and help in here. Oh, and in case you’re wondering, the dishwasher is that contraption you pull open next to the sink.” Having triumphed with a final jab, Tommy smiled and picked up the grill brush.
Chapter 38
After Maureen was shooed into the living room and Tommy headed for the patio with the boys to clean the grill, Jack helped put silverware and dishes around the sink while Mary loaded the dishwasher.
She turned to Jack. “Her brown eyes glinted. She
straightened her sleeveless tan print top. A woman substantial in size, she was forever trying the latest diets, to no avail, as she’d sigh.
“I want to thank you for going to Germany and finding out about the letter, and more about John.”
Surprised by her comment, he didn’t need to worry about hinting around. She came right out with it. He put the empty potato salad bowl in the sink. “Oh, sure. Guess Tommy told you all about the situation.”
“Yes, he did, Jack.” She lowered her voice, glancing toward the living room. “In fact, he mentioned finding the letter, and later when you were in Munich, told me about this woman, Ariana, and the journal.”
Jack nodded. “Good. Glad he did. Anything else?”
Mary hesitated. “About your half-sister. Yeah, that too.”
Again, Jack said, “Good. You should be aware.”
“The information seemed to do Tommy a world of good.
I can tell he’s a different person. I know it sounds very dramatic, but—” her voice trailed off as she put a glass in the dishwasher. “He doesn’t fly off the handle when he forgets milk at Jewel-Osco anymore.”
“That’s great, Mary. I was hoping he’d change somehow after realizing all the crap Pa went through.”
“He has changed, Jack, and in some way, he’s forgiven John after all these years.” Mary absently rinsed a bowl. “Jenny’s doing fine too, Tommy tells me.”
“Yeah, thank God. We’re probably both remembering about nine, ten years ago at another birthday party for Ma when Jenny called – Well, when she’d clearly had too much. That time convinced Ma that yes, Jenny had a problem.” Jack grimaced. “But now she’s coming up on one year since the last slip.”
Mary put her hand on Jack’s arm. “Right, good for her. Ironic. I always thought it would’ve been you or Tommy who’d have the problem. You know, both cops like your dad.”
“I agree.”
Tommy and the boys interrupted the conversation as they came blundering into the kitchen. “You guys go upstairs.” Tommy hustled them away. “Call you for dessert.”
The boys scampered off, no doubt eager to play with their iPads or whatever the hell kids amused themselves with these days.
Mary turned. “Now that you’re here, I’ll relieve Jack and turn over dish duty to you.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Tommy gave a mock salute.
Jack joined Sherk and Bob, who sat by the fireplace. “Sherk was just talking about your visit with his grandpa’s family,” Bob said. “I’m amazed he survived Stalingrad.”
Jack sat in a chair beside him. “Yeah, great people. Changed my outlook on Germans.”
Bob suppressed a cough. “I’m sure. Now Jenny’s after me to go over there some summer. Could take the kids.”
Jack stiffened, hoping Bob wouldn’t notice. She probably had told her husband about Monika, and wanting to meet her. “Lots of good things to see there,” was all Jack wanted to utter.
Sherk crossed his lanky legs. “It would be a wonderful education for the kids. Germany is full of history and culture, as you know.”
Just then, the front door opened and a young, light-haired girl burst in. “Too late for dinner?” she called to no one in particular.
“Cate, you showed up.” Jenny stood, smiling at her daughter. “Come sit by your grandma.”
“Yes, come here, Caty bird,” Maureen called out. “I’ve missed you.”
Cate giggled and sashayed to the sofa, her long pony tail swinging. She wore a black, sleeveless top and white shorts showcasing long, thin legs.
“Happy Birthday, Grandma,” she sat down and hugged Maureen. “You look beautiful.”
“Ah, my favorite grandchild.” Maureen planted a kiss on Cate’s cheek.
It had become easier for Jack to be around Cate in the past couple years. She was seventeen, the age Elizabeth would be. As cousins, Elizabeth and Cate had often played together, dabbling in a fantasy world reserved for little girls. For a long time after Elizabeth and Karen were killed, Jack stayed away from Jenny’s family. The pain was too intense, but the passage of time had helped ease his grief.
Cate was introduced to Erica, but had met Sherk before. “Awesome. I want to visit Germany. Mom agreed maybe we can go when I’m in college.”
“See what you started, Jack?” Tommy appeared from the kitchen. “Now everyone wants to go, including Ma.”
Maureen scoffed. “Not for me, Mister. The Ireland trip years ago was wonderful, but I’m too old for that now.”
“Speaking of old ladies, are we ready for cake?” Jack said.
“Always the smart one, Jacky is.” Maureen patted Cate’s knee. “At least your other uncle respects me.”
“Yay for Uncle Tommy,” Cate said.
Several minutes later, everyone stood around the dining room table where two candles shaped like an eight and a seven flickered atop a three-layer cake adorned with candied pink roses and white icing.
Everyone sang the happy birthday song, some more in tune than others.
“Eww, that sounded terrible,” Ethan groaned.
“Out of the mouths of brats.” Tommy jostled the boy.
Jack held up a half full glass of beer. “Here’s to Maureen O’Leary Bailey. May the good Lord take a liking to you…. but not too soon.”
“Here, here,” rang through the air.
“Speech, Ma,” said Tommy, immediately joined by a chorus of “Yay, speech.”
Maureen, flushed, dabbed at her eyes. “I won’t get all mushy, but you all know how I care deeply about you. I say this every year, but this time we have our special guests, Erica and Sherk, so this Irish blessing has a special meaning.”
She cleared her throat. “May joy and peace surround you, contentment latch your door, and happiness be with you now, and bless you evermore!”
Jack thought he saw tears welling in Erica’s eyes. She looked up at Sherk and gazed. He took her hand. Was he choking up? No sooner had Jack raised this question, then something caught in his own throat.
Sherk gave a cough and placed his other hand in Maureen’s. “And this is a German wish for you.” He looked down on her shining face. “Ich wünsche dir zu deinem Geburtstag alles Liebe und Güte—verbringe einen wunderschönen Tag im Kreise deiner Lieben.”
He glanced at everyone around the table. “Just in case you didn’t get all that, I said that I wish you all the best on your birthday. May you spend a wonderful day surrounded by those you love.”
Various “oohs” and “aahs” came from the group.
Maureen’s lips quivered as she gave Sherk a hug. “Oh, Sherk, thank you so much. And for taking Jacky with you to your home across the ocean. It did him a lot of good. He’s not quite as ornery as before.” She raised her eyebrows at Jack. “I do believe he’s getting a little soft.”
“Aw, Ma, hate to disappoint you, but that’ll never happen.” He brushed his hair from his forehead. “Gotta admit Germany did me good, though. And you’re almost as good a cook as Sherk’s grandma.”
“Oh, go on with you. Let’s have cake,” Maureen playfully shooed him off with a wave of her hand. “Hand me the cutter, Jenny. I’ll slice the first piece.”
Tommy said, “Okay everyone, you know the drill. Help yourself to cake. If you want ice cream, Cate will dish it out for you in the kitchen.”
“I will?” she said. “That’s what I get for being late.”
“That’s right, kid.” Tommy turned to Maureen. “We have Kemp’s Old-Fashioned Vanilla. Nothing but the best for our ma.”
Maureen looked at Sherk and Erica. “Don’t let my boys fool you. Once a
year they’re nice to me. And sometimes at Christmas.”
Erica’s eyes sparkled. “You have a lovely family, Maureen.”
Highly debatable, Jack thought. But then again, perhaps they weren’t so bad after all.
. . . . .
The rooms still buzzed with chatter and merriment as people lingered over their empty cake plates and coffee cups. Folks were scattered throughout the house, some in the living room, kitchen, patio. Jack wandered into the kitchen and noticed the little boys in the backyard, miniature Chicago Cubs, gleefully swinging plastic bats at wiffleballs pitched to them by Bob. Jack stood at the window, lost in the scene.
He thought again how he used to dislike family gatherings. Christmas and birthdays, more painful. But now, a sense of contentment filled his spirit, a forgotten sense, absent for many years. He’d gained a renewed gratitude for this family of his, with their flaws along with their strengths. However, he still was not complete, as if he were missing an appendage these past twelve years. But maybe the gap was shrinking. Perhaps he could live a meaningful life without a wife and children?
“Sneaking more ice cream?” His brother’s voice roused him back from his thoughts. Tommy came and stood beside Jack at the window.
Jack turned. “Nah, just woolgathering.”
“Bad sign, bro. How ‘bout I grab Sherk and we walk down to the corner. Wear off some calories?”
“Sure.” Jack followed Tommy into the living room.
“We’re gonna rescue you from these women,” Jack said to Sherk. “Let’s take a short walk.”
Sherk looked at Erica as if to gain her permission. She nodded. “Go ahead, honey. After that, we’ll need to be on our way.”
“We won’t be gone long,” Jack said as they walked out the door into the sunshine.