* * *
It was a cold Thanksgiving, and I refused to go home with Amy. I was still moping—still missing Brian and Sam. And I was determined to just stay home and wallow in self-pity.
I was making a microwave meal of some sort, when I heard a knock.
I opened the door and saw a blue Brian with a tiny Sam strapped to his chest. He had taken off his coat and wrapped it around Sam, so Sam was snuggly warm, and Brian was freezing.
“I can’t do this without you, J. I don’t want to! I miss you. I need you. We need you.”
And that was all it took.
A month later, he took me back to Ozzie’s. Ben and Amy had already married. Amy was holding a tiny-suited Sam’s hand. Brian’s parents, who I had met and loved, were also there. I knew something was up. But right there in the lobby, Brian dropped to one knee. Sam followed suit. And Brian asked me to marry him. No poetic speeches. No flowery words. Just a simple, “Julie, I love you. Marry me?”
He pulled out a ring box with nothing in it! Later I would learn that he had scrimped and saved for over six months to have his grandmother’s diamond put into a beautiful setting for me. And then he forgot the ring at home. He tried to call his parents, but they had already left with Sam. So he called Amy, and she brought her ring box as a stand in.
I just laughed and said an enthusiastic “yes.” I didn’t care about a ring. I was going to marry this wonderful man and be the best wife I could be.
I was also going to be the best mother I could be to Sam. Brian never told me much about Sam’s biological mother, Hannah. Only that she had some mental health issues, and because of them, she couldn’t be a mother to Sam. He had tried to make it work during the pregnancy, but even before she delivered Sam, he knew it was a lost cause. To his surprise, she delivered Sam and left the hospital about 6 hours later. Brian was at a loss. He placed ads in newspapers and called friends. He didn’t know her family or how to find them. He tried and waited for over 8 months. And nothing. At that point the courts said that she had legally abandoned Sam, and that was that. It was just the two of them. But not any longer.
* * *
Our wedding was simple. We got married in the park near Brian’s parents’ house and moved into the run-down townhouse that we bought. I had a little bit of money from an insurance policy my father had, and Brian’s parents helped us with the rest of the down payment.
Brian did most of the work on the house. He updated the electrical wiring, the plumbing, and even installed hardwood flooring on the tiny first level. He sanded our old kitchen cabinets and painted them. And then he took pictures, put together a portfolio, and used it to get his first job—remodeling his parents’ neighbor’s basement. And then things just took off.
I worked and took care of Sam, who I had legally adopted at that point. Our lives were full, we were happy, and when I found out I was pregnant with Carey, Brian immediately hired his old friend, Joe, to be his foreman—not quite the reaction I expected!
My pregnancy with Carey was uneventful. Sam, who was three at that point, was thrilled with the idea of a new baby. He would come with me to Walmart or Target and help me find little things for the nursery.
About 18 months after Carey was born and when I was about 3 months pregnant with Jimmy, Brian suggested we look for something bigger. I admit that I was sad. The townhouse was our first home, but as Brian pointed out, we were outgrowing it. I gave my two week notice at work, and while searching for our new home, we sold our townhouse to a young couple—much like us—that had just gotten married. Since Brian didn’t like the idea of a community, he proposed building us a house and figured we could live with his parents until the house was done. I greatly opposed that plan, and so he gave in and bought me our home on Placket Street.
Chapter 17
We spent 13 perfect years in our house on Placket Street... together.
We brought Jimmy home from the hospital to the house. I got pregnant with the girls there. I nursed four kids and my husband through the chickenpox in the house. Yes. All five at the same time. Only Sam, who had gotten them when he was 4, and I escaped. We celebrated birthdays and anniversaries there. Sam’s graduation and the death of Brian’s parents. The house had seen so much love and so many tears. It even saw me lay my husband to rest way too early.
I was grateful that only a few of our closest friends came over to the house after the funeral. They understood my grief—my shock—and comforted all of us during it. Joe, who later bought the company, brought his wife and their little girl, and he played with Jessie and Maggie until they both fell asleep. Anthony took Jimmy and Carey outside and just sat with them—later Sam joined them. Ben took care of all the funeral arrangements for me, and then saw that the flowers were donated to a nursing home afterwards.
And Amy and Bee—they were my rocks. Anthony set up a cot in my bedroom, and the two of them took turns staying with me at night for those first few weeks. Sometimes they would both stay. If one of the kids—especially the girls—woke up crying, they were the ones that comforted them those first few night. And when I couldn’t sleep, they sat with me and held my hand.
Bee even coordinated a casserole drive as she called it, and I don’t think I cooked for at least three months following Brian’s death.
They helped me get it together as the months went by, and at the moment I felt like my heart was breaking all over again. Sam was in his first serious relationship—with our dear friends’ daughter! I wished he had Brian around to talk to about dating, relationships, women—heck, even sex. I wished that he was around to experience first love all over again, by seeing it with Sam and Karie. And I prayed that I would be able to channel him in some way and give Sam the advice he needed.
But I was also feeling something shift in me. I was feeling an acceptance—a realization that it was okay to smile again, to laugh. And it was time.
I called Bee and Amy that night and that was all I had to say—“It’s time.”
“Are you sure?” Amy asked.
“I am.”
Amy nodded. “Okay, you let us know when.”
“We’re there,” Bee said.
I wanted to take the kids on a vacation, but I wanted it to be more than that. I wanted it to be the start of us reclaiming our lives and moving forward without Brian there to catch us. Now, it would just be the kids and I. Well... and our friends.
We had taken a cruise with Ben, Amy, Bee, Anthony, and Ant two years ago and absolutely loved it. Ant, Jimmy, and Carey were in one room, and Sam was in another room with the girls. Brian had surprised me by upgrading our small interior room to a balcony. One night we were sitting on it and talking.
“This is perfect. This is what I worked so hard to give you guys,” he told me as he kissed my neck.
I settled into him and said nothing. He was right. It was perfect.
“If something happens to me, cremate me. Because I want my ashes spread here.” And he pointed to the dark water below us.
Despite the gloomy thought, I nodded and agreed that such a send-off was a wonderful idea.
But then I let him down. I couldn’t bring myself to cremate him. Instead, Ben helped me pick out a lovely stone to mark the place where they lowered my husband’s body into the ground. I needed him there—somewhere I could be with him.
But symbolically, we could still let him go, and that’s what we were going to do.
* * *
I got on the phone with the travel agent we used to book the first cruise. I explained to her what we wanted, and she said she would handle it. She even offered to call Bee and Amy after she got everything situated.
“Oh, but Janice... I just need two rooms this time, not three,” I reminded her.
“I know,” she said softly, and then told me she would take care of everything.
And she did! 45 minutes later she called me back. She told me that Bee, Anthony, Ant, and Karie were booked, and so were Amy and Ben. She had two rooms for us—an interior for the boys
and a balcony for the girls and I right across the hallway. Four rooms booked for everyone. We were leaving in 10 days.
* * *
“KIDS!” I screamed up the stairs.
“Damn, Mom. You’re loud,” Carey muttered running down the stairs.
I flicked his ear and told him to watch his mouth. Obviously, he got his mouth from Brian.
When all the kids were with me in the living room, I told them to sit. They sat, and I began.
“Okay. We talked about a vacation right.”
They nodded, and a few of them grunted.
“We’re going on a cruise,” I said with a slight excitement. “The same one we went on two years ago with Dad.”
No one said anything. Only the girls looked excited.
Finally Sam spoke up. “Lot of good memories.”
I nodded and looked at him, happy that he got it. “Exactly! Look, one night Dad and I were talking. He said if something happened to him, we should cremate him and scatter his ashes in the ocean.”
“But you didn’t cremate him, Mom,” Jimmy reminded me.
I held up my hands. “I know. I know... I couldn’t. And that’s on me. But I still want to do something to honor him and to remind all of us that it’s okay to move on. I know a part of each of us died with your Dad, and we’ll hold that in our hearts forever. And that’s okay,” I reassured all of them. “It is. But it’s also okay to let go of some of the pain and move forward. And that’s what we’re gonna do.”
“I couldn’t let your Dad go. That was selfish of me, but I wanted him here—where I could go and be with him. I needed that, and I think Dad would understand. But this...” I pointed to a family photo that was taken right before we boarded the ship on our first cruise. Ben had taken it with Brian’s digital camera, and I just got it printed at Walmart a few days ago. “This is something we can let go of. The idea that it’s all of us or nothing. Dad is gone, and we have to hold on to the good times, but we can’t live with a ghost. Do you understand?”
The girls didn’t and looked at me blankly, but the boys all nodded.
“It’s symbolic. I get it, Mom,” Sam told me.
“Yeah,” Jimmy offered.
Carey filled in, “I like it, Mom. Dad will always be with us... in our hearts. But it isn’t the seven of us anymore, and we’ll need to accept that.”
I got up and hugged him. “That’s exactly it.”
I let him go and sat back down. “I know Dad would want that. I want us all to remember him. Your father was a wonderful man. He wasn’t perfect—”
“Daddy always told us, ‘Mommy’s not perfect, but she’s perfect for me!’” Jessie chimed in, pleased she remembered.
“Exactly! I used to tell your Dad the same thing. He wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for me. And that’s how I will remember him. If you guys remember something funny Dad said or did, talk about it. If you think of a funny story or have a dream about him, tell us. Never be afraid to talk about Dad. And if we cry, we cry. We’re still healing, guys, but we’re getting there. And I promise you, I know in my heart that is just what Dad would want.”
The boys were looking at one another and nodding, and the girls sat quietly on the rug.
“You know what I think of when I think of Dad?” Jimmy asked everyone.
“What?” Sam said.
“I remember that last day with Homer. Dad was so gentle with him when he picked him up and put him in the car. And Dad cried with me when he brought him home and gave me the urn the next day.”
“Did Dad tell you about the dog, Mom?” Maggie asked.
“What dog?” The girls were still learning how to share information.
“One time, Dad took us out for ice cream, and he saw a car in front of us hit a dog,” Maggie began.
“Oh yeah!” Jessie jumped in, as they often do with each other. “The guy that didn’t stop. Dad said a bad word and stopped the car. He pulled over and got out of the car.”
“Yeah,” Maggie continued. “He covered the dog with his coat so we wouldn’t see and took it to the vet Homer went to.”
“Was that Dad’s yellow work coat?” I asked the girls.
“Yeah, that old one with all the paint on it!” Maggie replied.
“I always wondered what happened to that coat, but he never said anything.”
“That’s how Dad was,” Sam said, sliding off the chair he had been sitting in to sit with the girls on the floor. Then he added, “I used to like watching Mom and Dad dance.”
“What?” All the kids asked with puzzled expressions.
“Yeah. When we first moved here, and Dad was redoing the floors in this room, he and Mom would dance at night. You know Dad always listened to music when he worked, right?”
Brian would blast rock music, hip hop, rap, or whatever would keep his blood pumping to get the job done.
“Mom and Dad would what? Headbang?” Jimmy teased.
“Nope. When he thought we were in bed, he’d put on slow music and call Mom out of the kitchen. He’d always ask her the same thing.” Sam looked up at me, wanting me to answer.
“Hey, sexy lady. May I have this dance?” I smiled and let the tears fall.
The kids all laughed—no doubt because they could hear their father saying those exact words to me.
“And I would always say, ‘Nope. Too busy!’” I teased.
“No you didn’t!” Jessie laughed with me.
“I did! Every time. And then your father would come and pick me up and twirl me around and around until I got dizzy.”
“Did Dad do that, Sam?” Jessie asked him.
“Every time,” Sam answered and one tear fell as he smiled at me.
“Carey?” I turned to my son. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I was just thinking about Dad teaching Sam to drive,” Carey said sadly.
I know how badly he wished Brian could have taken him out those last few months before he got his license. Instead, Sam and I tried our best to fill in. I moved to sit next to him and took his hand.
“You know, I’m glad I tagged along a few times when Dad took Sam out,” Carey continued. “Then when Sam was teaching me to drive a stick shift, I heard Dad in my head. I remembered what he would tell Sam.”
“That’s right! You did come along.” Sam remembered as well.
“Some of the things you told me were exactly what I remember Dad telling you. Word for word,” Carey told Sam.
“I learned from the best.”
“Yes. You did,” I agreed. “We all did.”
Chapter 18
The next 10 days were filled with planning, filling out travel documents, and phone calls.
“Mom? It’s Carey.” I heard when I answered my phone.
“Yes, Honey. I know. What’s up?” It was his third phone call of the day.
“When are we leaving again? I need to ask Mr. Carideo for time off.”
I had offered to call Tommy, but Carey said he would take care of it.
“It’s his job, Julie. His responsibility.” I heard Brian’s voice in my head and dropped it.
“Mom?” Carey called to me on the phone.
“Oh, sorry. We are leaving on July 7th, and will be back on the 14th. Write it down this time.”
“7th to the 14th... got it!” He parroted back to me. “Okay. I close tonight, Mom, so I’ll be late.”
“Okay. Be careful with my van!” I said quickly as he was hanging up. I could only hope he heard me.
It was nice to relax. Everyone already had passports, so that was taken care of. I had already filled out all the paperwork we needed to for traveling. The boys could take care of their own packing, and I would help the girls pack. So I was sitting in my favorite chair, drinking a glass of iced tea, and catching up on my celebrity gossip.
“MOMMY!” I heard one of the girls bellow from upstairs. Guess People will have to wait.
I got up and just walked up the stairs. As I was walking into their room, Jessie came running out
and again screamed, “MOMMY!”
“I am right here!” Sheesh, I think my ears were ringing. “What’s the matter?”
Jessie looked so upset.
“Maggie, did you do something to your sister?” I asked my other daughter, who was smirking on her bed.
“I didn’t do anything. She’s freaking out about her bathing suit.”
I took a deep breath. Jessie is just like her Aunt Amy—she loves fashion. In fact, Amy is usually the one to take Jessie shopping for her “first day of school” outfits. Jessie couldn’t wait to wear high heels and makeup, and her beautiful long hair has always been her pride and joy. I do my best to keep up with her, but I often fall short.
“Okay. What’s the problem?”
“Well, first of all, I can’t find my pink suit. I think Mags took it.”
Maggie hated that nickname and protested, “I did not! Do you really think I would wear a pink suit, Mom?”
Maggie was more like me, a semi-tomboy. She was always careful to look her best. Her best just didn’t usually include dresses and sandals like her twin.
“She’s lying, Mom! I need my pink suit!” Jessie looked like she was about to start crying. I was supposed to be reading about Kanye and Kim or Prince William and Kate!
“You know what? Carey and Sam are at work, and Jimmy’s out with friends, so why don’t the three of us run to Target and see if we can get you gals some new suits? I want to get some sunblock anyway.”
Jessie said my proposal was acceptable as she shot Maggie the evil eye. Maggie shrugged and asked if she could pick out a new book.
* * *
“I know you took my suit,” Jessie hissed. “I bet you hid it!”
We were in a dressing room at Target while Jessie tried to find a bathing suit that would be passable to her picky tastes.
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