Her frown made her look older. Weary. He suddenly regretted the impulsive buy. Which was odd. He didn't regret much.
“Don’t worry,” he said after guzzling the last of his milk. “At the rate he’s using it, the batteries will wear down before our hearing goes.”
She didn’t smile at his jest. Instead, she said, “Pam didn’t like guns. Kenny was the only man at the volunteer fire department who doesn’t hunt. I know he got razzed about that, but he said he didn't want his son to think guns were cool.”
Jake eyed the last bite of the delicious sandwich and decided his hunger had disappeared. He obviously couldn’t do anything right in this woman’s eyes.
Instead of trying to defend his choice of toy—one gun wasn’t going to turn Caleb into a mass murderer— he posed the question that had been bothering him ever since he arrived. “How come he hasn’t asked about his parents?”
A dark cloud passed over her features. He reminded himself that she was hurting—just as bad as he was. Worse, probably, since she’d been here from the first. “He has,” she said, fiddling with the handle of her coffee mug. “When they didn’t return last night as expected, I told him they’d extended their ski trip. But he’s a smart kid. I’m pretty sure he knows something is up.”
“How’s Cordelia?”
“As good as can be expected, I guess. I talked to her on the phone shortly before you called. I gather she had a rough night. A lot of pain. They upped her drugs and she was pretty groggy when we spoke.”
Jake could only imagine the horror of losing a daughter, a son-in-law and one’s health all in the same morning. “And things are going to get worse before they get better,” he predicted.
She sat down on the “baby” stool, leaving the “mama” stool between them. “Do you mean the funeral? Because I’ve started a list.” She reached across the counter to grab a yellow legal-sized tablet. “My mother handled the arrangements last summer after my grandfather passed away. But Grandpa had left specific instructions. He’d been planning on dying for years.”
A faint glimmer tickled his memory. “I think Pam mentioned that when we were together in August. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” she said somberly. “But he was ninety-four. He’d led a long, industrious life and was ready to go. Not the same as—” She took a drink from her mug. Jake could tell she was holding back her grief through sheer willpower.
“Anyway,” she said, after clearing her throat, “Mom said the first thing we need to do is get in touch with the family lawyer. I found his name in Kenny’s files and left a message on his machine. He hasn’t—”
Jake interrupted. “I talked to him this morning.” Her left brow shot upward.
“Kenny referred him to me on an investment matter a few years ago. He’s not one of my regular clients, but I had his name and number. He hadn’t heard about the accident, but he told me he’d call here as soon as possible. He couldn’t recall whether they’d made any specific last wishes.”
Her gaze dropped to the tablet. “Last wishes,” she repeated. “Who does that? Who plans for death at our age? I don’t have any idea where I want to be buried. Do you?” Jake could tell she was remembering something sad. Something from her past, maybe?
“Actually, Kenny and I talked about this a couple of years ago,” he said, striving for a more upbeat tone. “On Caleb’s second birthday to be exact. I’d just set up my will and made Kenny executor. I told him that after he paid off all my bills, I wanted him to use whatever was left to fund a party on the beach. Champagne. A band. Then afterward, he could kick the tin can with my ashes into the sand. Period.”
She didn’t say anything, but Jake sensed that she thought he was an ass. Before he could add that the bulk of his substantial estate was set up as a trust for Caleb, the doorbell rang.
“Somebody’s here,” a youthful voice rang out—followed by the rat-a-tat-tat of a plastic machine gun.
Jake winced. The gun was definitely a mistake. Maybe he’d have to help those batteries disappear.
Allison started toward the foyer with Jake behind her. Caleb beat them to the door but didn’t open it. Jake unlatched the deadbolt, and two strangers—a man and a woman—entered. The woman, who was wearing a Hawaiian print dress under her black wool coat, carried a covered casserole dish that smelled delicious.
“May I help with that?” Jake asked.
The woman gave him a startled look. “No, that’s okay. I know my way around Pam’s kitchen like it was my own. I’m going to put this in the oven on warm, Allison.”
Jake thought that rather presumptuous of her, but Allison shrugged as if to say “whatever.”
The man put out his hand in greeting. “Marc Mason. Neighbor across the fence. That was my wife, Gayle.”
Allison introduced Jake before he could do it himself. “Jake is Kenny’s best friend from way back. He just flew in from Miami.”
“Really, which flight?” the man asked. “I’m a pilot with United. I was off this past week. We just got back from Hawaii and heard the news. Gayle had to make food.” He gave a sheepish smile. “Must be her midwestern roots. Giving casseroles is how you show respect to the family, I guess. You understand, don’t you, Ally?”
Jake didn’t like the tall, handsome man calling Allison by her nickname. The familiarity made him feel like the odd man out.
“Gayle was one of the first people I called,” Allison said. “But I had to leave a message because your cell number isn’t in Pam’s book, Marc, and Gayle’s phone wasn’t on.”
“It would have been on,” the woman said returning to the foyer. “But someone forgot to include my charger when we switched cars.” She gave her husband a pointed look.
“Where’s Bradley?” Caleb asked, squeezing off a few rounds. “Can he come play with my new gun?”
Gayle discreetly wiped a tear from her eye and said, “Sorry, sweetie. He’s taking a nap. He had to get up very early this morning to catch our flight, but you could come over later, if your...um, if Allison says it’s okay.”
“Can I bring the gun Jake gave me?”
The woman gave Jake a severe look that said only an idiot would buy a four-year-old a gun. “We’ll see.”
Jake put his hands on his godson’s shoulders and pointed him in the direction of his room. “Why don’t you read that new book I brought you, buddy? Save some ammo for later.”
The child glanced over his shoulder at the ring of adults for a brief moment then dashed down the hall, spraying bullets in every direction.
Allison gave a small sigh and pointed toward the living room. “Can you come in? I made a fresh pot of coffee.”
Jake hadn’t been in this room, but he recognized it from the photos Pam sent him every year after Christmas. He knew right where the tree traditionally stood—in the middle of the bank of windows that framed the pond in the distance. The mantel of the whitewashed brick fireplace would be trimmed in greenery and candles. Pam always went all out for the holiday. Jake hated to think what this place would be like without her.
The Masons declined Allison’s offer of refreshments. “We can’t stay,” Gayle said, choosing to sit on the red leather sofa. Marc sat beside her, leaving Jake and Allison to take the overstuffed chairs. Jake liked Pam’s decorating style—modern and fun, yet stylish. He wished he’d been able to tell her so.
“We just came by to drop off the hot dish. And I thought you might need our help with Caleb, but it’s clear you haven’t told him yet.”
Jake wondered if he detected a hint of reproach in her tone or was he projecting? She seemed like a kind and neighborly person. Just because he didn’t live in a small town, didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate gestures of goodwill.
“Allison and I decided to hold off until I got here,” he said. That wasn’t completely true, but he wanted to portray a united front to these people.
“Makes sense,” Marc said. “Kenny told me you and Caleb were pretty close.”
�
��Well, I’m no expert,” Gayle said, “but I do have three kids. And last year, my daughter’s friend’s mother passed away from breast cancer. She’s fourteen, not four, but it was still very, very traumatic. She’s seeing a therapist, who has helped a lot. I could get you the woman’s name.”
Jake wanted to say, “Hold on. Let us tell the boy, and then find out what he needs.” But Allison answered before he could find a diplomatic way of declining Gayle’s offer.
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that. I was online checking out sites that dealt with helping children facing tragic losses. From what I read, children of Caleb’s age might not fully comprehend the concept of death, but they understand that their world has changed irrevocably. Our job is to reassure Caleb that he’ll always be loved and safe.”
Jake kept his mouth shut. How could he argue with that kind of logic? Still, it irked him slightly that he hadn’t thought to do some research himself last night.
“I know we all want what’s best for Caleb,” Gayle said. “Pam was one of my dearest friends. Our boys have been practically inseparable since they were infants. So if we can help, please don’t hesitate to call.”
“Thank you,” Allison said. “As a matter of fact, I need to go home to get some clothes. I completely forgot about that when I was there last night. And I want to stop by and see Cordelia. If Jake is tired—”
Gayle interrupted with a loud, huffing sound. “I can’t believe Cordelia had a heart attack. Talk about bad timing.”
Allison frowned. “It’s not like she did it on purpose.”
The woman reached out and squeezed her hand. “I know. I’m being totally unreasonable, but when I heard what happened, and thought about you trying to handle all this and Caleb by yourself...well, it just seemed so unfair.”
“Death is unfair,” Jake said. “Just ask Kenny and Pam.”
Gayle suddenly collapsed against her husband. Loud, wet sobs filled the room. Her shoulders shook. While trying to console his wife, Marc told them, “I’ve never seen her so rattled. This came as a real shock. You never appreciate how precarious life is until someone close to you dies.”
Jake was sorry he’d said anything. He glanced at Allison. Her top teeth worried her bottom lip and she blinked rapidly as if trying to keep her tears at bay. Jake braced for her to start crying, too. Then what would he do? Touch her? Offer his shoulder, as Marc had? That didn’t seem right. They barely knew each other.
Fortunately, Gayle suddenly sat up straight and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ll be better soon. I promise.”
Following her lead, they all rose. Marc stood awkwardly for a moment, then took a step forward and gave Allison a hug. Jake could tell she was surprised.
“Jake,” the man said, shaking Jake’s hand again. “Good of you to come so far. If you need anything, holler.”
Gayle sniffled, patting her nose with a tissue she’d withdrawn from the pocket of her coat. “Give Caleb a big hug for me. It breaks my heart to think of him...alone...motherless...” The tears started again, but this time she turned away and dashed out the door, leaving her husband to follow.
Jake closed the door behind them. He knew this was only the beginning of what they’d soon have to face. Pam and Kenny had been young, friendly and well-known in their community. The outpouring of grief would start soon. He only hoped he could shield Caleb from some of it.
When he turned around, he saw Caleb standing a few feet away. The toy gun dangled from one finger. His little face was etched in worry.
“Why was Bradley’s mommy crying?”
Jake looked at Allison. She nodded, then closed her eyes and took a breath.
He walked to his godson and picked him up, discarding the gun discreetly behind a large potted palm. “She’s sad, Caleb.”
“Why?” Caleb’s thumb went into his mouth—a habit Jake hadn’t seen for two years.
“Because something happened that you should know about.”
Caleb looked at Allison who tried to smile reassuringly. When she glanced at Jake, he read the look in her eyes: resolve, fear, heartbreak. He felt the same, along with an overwhelming sense of responsibility. Please let us do this right.
Allison gently touched Caleb’s arm and said, “Let’s sit down. Jake and I need to tell you something, honey.”
As soon as they were seated on the sofa, Caleb between them, Allison said, “Remember when the policeman came to the house yesterday?”
He nodded. “Policemen are our friends,” he told Jake. Allison nodded. “That’s true, but one part of their job is telling family members bad news when something happens to someone they love.”
Caleb twisted his thumb back and forth. He looked so very small and scared Jake wanted to snatch him up in his arms and run away.
Allison put one hand flat to his back and rubbed in circles—something Jake had seen Pam do. “There was a car accident, honey. On the way to the ski place. Your daddy’s Jeep was in it.”
Caleb looked at Jake to confirm what she said. Jake nodded.
“Mommy got hurt?”
Allison cleared her throat. “Yes.”
“Is she in the hospital? Like Gramma? Can I go see her?”
Allison looked at Jake. Now what?
“I’m afraid not, Caleb,” he said, shifting the boy to his knee, using his left arm to keep him snug.
“How come?”
Jake could barely draw a breath past the weight on his chest. “Because she died, champ. Do you know what that means?”
Caleb frowned. “You ain’t got no more lifes left. You can’t play the game no more.”
Allison moved to her knees in front of them. Her eyes level with her godson’s, she said, “Caleb, sweetie, do you remember Grandma’s dog Geisha?”
Caleb nodded, “Uh-huh.”
Allison took Caleb’s hand. “When Geisha died, your daddy buried her down by the pond. Remember?”
Caleb didn’t answer, but Jake felt the little boy stiffen. His eyes grew wide, and he leaned against his godfather, who tightened his hold.
“Gramma cried,” Caleb mumbled.
Allison’s lips trembled and she blinked back tears of her own. “It’s not easy to say goodbye to someone you love, but sometimes that’s what you have to do. When bodies get old—like Geisha’s, or when something bad happens, like an accident, and doctors can’t make them better, they die.”
Caleb looked up at Jake, silently pleading for his godfather to tell him this wasn’t true. Jake’s heart felt as if someone were ripping it out of his body, one inch at a time. He took a shallow breath and said, “This isn’t easy to say, champ, but your mommy and daddy died in the accident.”
“They’re in heaven now,” Allison added.
Jake didn’t know how much religious training Kenny and Pam had given their son, but his personal bias made him wish Allison hadn’t said that. Well-intentioned people had tried to console Jake after his brother passed away by assuring Jake that Phillip was “in God’s hands.” Jake hadn’t believed them. If God hadn’t lifted a finger to help Phillip on earth, why should Jake believe the deity would care about him in the afterlife?
Caleb’s bottom lip trembled. “When are they coming back?”
“They can’t come back, Caleb,” Jake said.
Jake felt the alarm that passed through the child’s body. Caleb’s grip on Jake’s forearm intensified. “Can I go there?”
Jake shook his head.
“I want to go,” Caleb cried. “I want my daddy. I want my mommy. Now.” His high, thin wail pierced the air. Without warning, he erupted in a fury of arms, legs and flailing punches. Allison tried to help and took a blow to the cheek that knocked her backward.
Jake locked his arms around the little boy and jumped to his feet. Rocking, cooing, smothering the violence as gently as possible, he paced back and forth, like a father with a colicky infant. “It’s gonna be okay, buddy. Allison and I are here for you. I know you’re sad. So are we. We loved your mom an
d dad and we love you. And we’re going to be here to take care of you until your grandma gets home. We promise.”
“And it’s okay to be mad, Caleb,” Allison added. “This shouldn’t have happened. Not to them.”
The tantrum ended as abruptly as it began. Caleb went limp and formless as a wet beach towel slung over Jake’s shoulder. His crying continued nonstop but he seemed oblivious to either of his godparents.
“What now?” Jake mouthed to Allison.
She stepped close and pressed her lips to the little boy’s convulsing back. Her eyes pooled with tears, she looked at Jake and whispered, “I don’t know.”
Without thinking, Jake used his free arm to pull her closer and the three of them huddled together and wept.
Chapter 4
Allison eyed the dozen or so neighbors and friends who had begun to congregate at the Rydell home. Most brought food and drink. The women were grouped in the kitchen and dining room. The men, either outside where they could smoke or in the living room.
Ally recognized a handful of familiar faces. Some she’d met a few months earlier at Pam and Kenny’s Labor Day barbecue. Others she knew, but couldn’t immediately place—including the man making his way across the room toward her.
Kenny’s cousin. Rick? Roger? Although she’d talked to him that morning, his name escaped her. Her mind seemed to have developed an insulated coating like the plastic wrap around wires that kept them from shorting out. She’d survived telling Caleb about his parents two hours earlier, but wasn’t sure how much more she could take.
Thank God Jake was here, she thought. His affable manner instantly put people at ease, welcoming them to share their common grief. Allison wasn’t that generous. She wanted to lock the door. Keep the world at bay—as she had after her personal tragedy. Until Pam had dragged her back into the world.
Oh, Pam, who’s going to do that for me now?
“Hi, Allison,” the man greeted her.
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