by Layne Harper
2. Console my step-mom, Carmen.
3. Check on Mom. How’s she going to feel about her ex-husband passing away?
4. Make funeral arrangements.
5. Write his obituary.
6. Get him buried.
7. Deal with the medical practice.
As we enter the hospital, Colin’s number flashes on my phone screen. He’s not going to be pleased when he realizes that I sent him to voicemail. I’m not ready to be consoled yet. I don’t have to listen to his message to know that he’s jumping in the car and will be here as soon as possible. He loves me. He loves Ainsley. That’s great and all, however right now, I’m trying to find out when the hospital will release my father’s body to the funeral home so we can start making arrangements.
Doctor mode.
The best assistant in the world gets Ainsley and I situated in the waiting room and takes the key that I was smart enough to grab from the junk drawer in the laundry room, the one to my old townhouse, to make sure it’s stocked with everything Ainsley and I’ll need to call it home for a while. They say that money can’t buy happiness, but it can purchase the baby gear that I’ll need for Ainsley, clothes for both her and I, toiletries, and food for all of us. Right now, I wouldn’t call those things happiness, but they sure do bring some stability to this unbelievable rabbit hole I feel like I’ve fallen through. My father is dead. I’ll never see him again.
Everyone has gone back to Carmen’s home. Is it strange that I’m already not thinking of it as Dad’s house? Brad is accepting furniture deliveries at my townhome. Ainsley is asleep in my arms as I wait patiently for the funeral home to claim my dad’s body.
The nurse asked me a few times if I wanted to see him. All my sisters went in and said their goodbyes. I didn’t. The last time that I saw my dad, he’d come up for one of Colin’s home games. He sat with me in our box. We talked football and medicine. He held Ainsley and gave her “Poppy” kisses. He’d hoped that she would agree that Poppy was a good name for him. I smile, thinking about his next comment. “If she’s anything like you six girls, she’ll come up with the name that sounds the least like Poppy.” He actually even went into the locker room to congratulate Colin on a good game before he left to return to Houston.
I have no reason to see my father’s lifeless body. I’ve accepted that he’s gone. I know that he loved me. He knew how happy my life is with Colin. He met his first grandchild. He died on the golf course, playing an exceptional game of golf according to the scorecard that I found in his bag of personal belongings. No. Jack Collins and I were and are in a good place. No regrets.
I’m mentally and physically worn out. Just as I put my head back against the wallpapered wall and shut my eyes, Colin’s presence wraps me in warmth. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and his smell rolls over me, making me feel peaceful inside.
“Hi,” I greet him without opening my eyes.
He kisses Ainsley on the head, and then I feel his warm, soft lips on my cheek. “I’m so sorry, baby. I tried calling you a couple of times, but you sent me to voicemail.”
There’s a hint of hurt in his voice, but I ignore it. I can’t deal with Colin’s bruised feelings at the moment. “It’s been crazy.”
“What can I do?”
I open my eyes for the first time to look at him. He’s in his after-game gear. His hair is a mess. Leaning into his shoulder, I inhale. “Did you not shower?”
His face is etched with concern. He rubs my leg and says, “I just had to get to you.”
For some reason, those words break down whatever “doctor mode” wall that I’ve built, and I begin to sob. Colin takes a sleeping Ainsley from me, and places her on a loveseat right by us, covering her with the baby blanket I brought in. He pulls me into his lap and holds me while I finally let out the sorrow that I’m feeling for losing my dad. He rocks me like he rocks Ainsley, and there’s something about that motion that brings me the comfort that I’m desperately craving.
My emotional breakdown is interrupted by the very kind social worker, letting me know that the funeral home just left.
Sitting up, I scoot off of his giant lap. There are strategically placed tissue boxes all over the waiting room so I grab a couple of handfuls and begin to try to clean myself up a bit. Thankfully, we’re alone in this room, because I don’t think that I could deal with Colin’s biggest fans at the moment.
Once I’ve given up on making myself presentable, Colin picks up our sleeping princess and says, “Let’s go home, baby.”
I watch with a heavy heart as he walks in front of me, favoring his very swollen right ankle, carrying our beautiful daughter snuggled into his chest, while Miguel follows us to my car.
****
Brad should work for Disney, because the man makes magic happen. As I steer the tank into my old driveway, I note that he’s turned on lamps so I don’t have to pull up to a dark, empty house. It’s such a small gesture, but it reaffirms how much Brad means to me. He’s thoughtful enough to take the time to do the little things he knows mean so much. I make a mental note to take him out for a very nice dinner when we’re back in Dallas.
Colin hobbles toward the backseat of the tank as if he’s going to get a still sleeping Ainsley from her car seat. “Colin, go upstairs and ice your leg. I’ll get her,” I tell him as I gently block his path.
He shoots me a very ugly glare, but has the good sense to not argue with his very tired, tear-stained, mentally worn-out wife.
I do my best to not rattle Ainsley as I take her baby carrier out of its base. “This, baby girl, is where your mommy proposed to your daddy. This is where we became a family,” I tell her sleeping form as I enter through my old front door.
Brad, my fairy godfather, waved his magic wand, and turned my old home into a beautiful place again. My former couches that are now in the pool house in Dallas have been replaced with a similar-looking sofa and loveseat from the local retailer who promises same day delivery and no backorder slips. Brad bought a couple of issues of current sports magazines that now are displayed in a fan-like pattern on my new round coffee table.
There’s a red crockpot on the counter that is slow cooking something that smells delicious. The scent reminds me that I haven’t eaten since the poached egg that I had for breakfast. God, I don’t even know what time it is. I place Ainsley, still in her carrier, on the floor next to the couch where Colin is already flopped with a bag of frozen corn on his mid-calf.
I toss my purse on the island—about the spot where Colin introduced me to the pleasures of oral sex again—and open my refrigerator. Just as I suspected. Brad has it stocked with all the foods that Colin and I keep at home. When I move to the pantry, an entire shelf is filled with Ainsley’s vacuum-sealed packages of organic baby food in all the flavors that she likes. The comfort that I feel knowing that my family has the basics is overwhelming. One less thing to worry about.
When I turn to look at my dining room table that still shows the scars from Colin’s attempt at a romantic dinner—the knife marks from where he tried to get the candle wax off the wood—I see the same highchair that we have at home.
My eyes fill with tears. This is no longer where I live, but Brad did everything that he could to make it a home away from home. God bless him.
My nostalgic revelry is broken by the sounds of my phone ringing. I grab it out of my purse, and check caller ID. I don’t recognize the number and toss it to Colin. “I’m going to get us settled. Would you play secretary, and watch the baby?”
He flashes me his half-smile. “Is she going to do a trick?”
“Yeah,” I reply as a small smile touches my lips. “Hopefully, stay asleep.”
I hear enough of the conversation to know that word of Doctor Jack Collins passing away is spreading. Colin does a great job of thanking whoever it is, and reassuring them we’ll let them know the funeral plans.
I spend a long time upstairs just sitting on my old bed that Colin says is too small, and staring at the wall in front of
me. Colin and I only lived in this house for one week, but we made a lifetime of memories here—good and bad. I still remember how nervous I was the night before I saw him again after Los Angeles. There was beautiful lovemaking that happened in this room. There was also loneliness, and doubts about us and our future. This is where difficult conversations and demands for more information were made. There were surprises, like when he turned my bedroom into a rose garden. But there was also the awful fight with my father downstairs.
In this house is where my now husband and my deceased father came to blows over me. God, now that I’m a mother I can see my dad’s point of view so much better. Even though I wish he would have let Colin visit me when I was hospitalized for my eating disorder, I can now fully appreciate why he didn’t.
I think about Ainsley downstairs. The idea that some jock with a cocky attitude will one day be chasing after my daughter makes me shiver. Dear Lord, I hope that he doesn’t make her cry. Her daddy might do worse than Jack.
Right after Ainsley was born, Colin said that she was Jack’s best revenge. Colin will one day know what it’s like for his daughter to date someone who he doesn’t believe is good enough for her. And let’s face facts… nobody is good enough for Ainsley McKinney. No one.
The sound of my husband’s breathtaking voice singing to his angel tickles my ears, shaking me from my thoughts. A part of my heart is shattered by the loss of my dad, but I will always be thankful that he was able to attend my medical school graduation, walk me down the makeshift sort-of aisle when I married Colin, and meet his beautiful granddaughter. All three milestones my five sisters will not get to share with him.
I very quietly whisper, “I love you, Daddy. Faults and all.”
****
“Colin, you’ve got to go back to Dallas,” I plead with him the next day while he’s changing Ainsley’s diaper, and I’m applying my moisturizer.
“Coach approved a leave of absence. We’re fine. Calm down,” he says as he bends down and blows raspberries on her tummy, making her shriek with happiness.
“All I’m doing today is making the funeral arrangements. Brad’s going to help me make phone calls. Amy said that she can watch Ainsley.” I wipe my hands on one of my old white hand towels, and turn to Colin. “Trust me. Everyone is so grateful that I’m taking over this job. They’ll bend over backwards to help me. I want you here for the funeral. I don’t need you today.”
“Is Mommy the most stubborn woman we know?” he says in his high-pitched Daddy is being a patronizing ass voice as he continues to tickle Ainsley’s tummy. “Yes, she is. Yes, she is.”
This takes my frustration level, on a day that’s already one of the hardest of my life, to atomic levels. All sass and spunk have left my body, and I begin to cry. I stand in the middle of my bathroom, with just a towel wrapped around me and sob pathetically, not knowing what else to do.
“Please go,” I plead. “Save days away from the team for when I really need you. Please,” I beg. “Today’s not one of those days.”
He places Ainsley on her tummy on the carpeted floor, and sets a red lion in front of her just out of her reach. “Let’s do some tummy time, sweet girl. Try to get the lion,” he says while giving it a shake.
Then he walks to me, and pulls me against his chest. My cheek lies against the thumping of his heart, and the sound is like a drug for my soul. It’s my lullaby, calming my frayed emotions. He strokes my hair. “You sure you don’t need me to stay, beautiful girl?” He pulls away from me and tilts my head up so he can see my eyes. “You could’ve fooled me.”
He’s right. If he were an engineer, or had any other normal job, I’d have him take a week off of work and help me though this, but he doesn’t have a normal job. He’s the Super Bowl-winning MVP quarterback for a team that is fighting for every win this season. He can’t just take a week of paid vacation during the season. The only acceptable reason to miss a game is injury, and we certainly don’t need any more of those.
“I need you every damn day, Colin, but so does the team. Hop a plane to Dallas. Go to practice. I’ll text you as soon as I have the funeral details worked out. There’s nothing that is missing-practice worthy today. I promise.”
He pulls me to him again and strokes my hair. “I’m a phone call away. I’ll give one of the assistants my phone. Call me.”
I nod, feeling relief in my heart that he’s leaving.
“Do you want me to ask Jenny to come down?”
I think about it for a moment. “Yeah. Why don’t you have her come for the funeral? She can watch Ainsley.”
The rest of the day is a whirlwind. Fortunately, Dad and Carmen had already purchased their burial plots—how morbid, but helpful to us children. The funeral service will be held in a Methodist Church; it’s near their home, and they’re members of it but never attended. Brad rented out my dad’s favorite restaurant for the after-funeral luncheon. I can’t bring myself to call it a reception.
I went to my old medical practice and personally told the staff of my dad’s passing. Most of them had already heard. Apparently, my father’s death made the Sunday evening news here in Houston. I had them reschedule appointments, and make all the necessary phone calls to close the practice until next Monday. Brad personally called all of the high-profile athletes Dad worked with, and invited them to the funeral on Wednesday.
I called Clay and Janis. I think, for one of the first times since I met Clay South, he didn’t have a crass comment. They assured me that they’d be at the funeral.
The next time I check my watch, it’s after eight o’clock at night. Amy has already fed, bathed, and put Ainsley to bed. My breasts ache from not feeding her enough today. I plop down on my new couch, put my feet up on the coffee table, and grab my glass of red wine. I can’t wait for Wednesday to be over.
It’s not until I hear, “I Just Want to Dance With You” that I remember that I haven’t talked or texted with Colin at all today. I’m sure he’s unhappy with me.
“Hey, baby.” I sound as exhausted as I feel.
Colin and I spend the next thirty minutes on the phone getting caught up on each other’s days. He was only an hour late to practice—thank you, Southwest Airlines. He’ll be back late tomorrow night for the funeral on Wednesday. Aiden’s coming, which makes me smile. He’s a calming presence in our life. Also, Rachael will be in town. I’m still holding out hope that they’ll reconcile.
I reluctantly tell Colin goodbye when Brad saunters into the living room, and joins me on the couch with a flop.
The two of us polish off a bottle of wine, and we watch old reruns of Sex and the City, complaining about how terribly they’ve been edited for basic cable. Brad and I’ve watched them enough that we fill in the missing words, or quote the deleted scenes.
Apparently, my breastfeeding days are over. No pump, half a bottle of wine, yup… Breastfeeding is over. I made it almost nine months. I’d self-congratulate more if my heart weren’t so heavy.
Brad is staying in the guest room, or Colin’s former office/back to guest room. I hug him goodnight, and thank him for all of his help today. Literally, I couldn’t have survived without him. He’s amazing.
I walk upstairs to my daughter’s crib in the corner of my old bedroom where the red college chair used to reside. She’s sleeping so peacefully, on her back, head tilted to the side. Ainsley McKinney is a gorgeous child. I’m not just saying that because I’m her mother. She got the best of her daddy and me. I kiss two of my fingers, and touch them to her forehead. “Sleep tight, precious one.”
****
“Hello everyone.” I clear my throat and adjust the height of the microphone so I don’t have to stand on my tiptoes. “For those who don’t know me, I’m Doctor Caroline Collins-McKinney. I’m the second-oldest daughter, if you’re keeping score on the cards provided.” I attempt to make a joke. Fortunately, everyone is kind enough to at least chuckle.
Carmen asked me to speak at my father’s funeral. She wanted his eulogy t
o be meaningful, and reflect who he was. I reluctantly agreed. Wiping my sweaty palms on the black dress that Brad bought for me, I note how loose it’s fitting. I’ve got to start eating again, and scale back my runs before Colin notices. Push that thought aside and focus on your notecards.
Clearing my throat, I continue. “Looking out at your faces in this packed church just confirms what a full life my father led. Some of you he knew through his practice, and can thank him for his healing touch. Others met Jack through us six girls. I see our tennis coach that taught all of us how to swing a racket. Then there’s the golfing gang that he played with a couple of times a week.” The guys that he was playing with when he collapsed are sitting together, and wearing their golfing attire. Their eyes are bloodshot, and their faces are grey. I can’t imagine how hard this must be on them. “Hello to my father’s business associates and neighbors.
“My point is that Doctor Jack Collins was everywhere. He was passionate about medicine and sports. He loved his community, and was involved wherever he thought he could make a difference. But, above all else, Jack cherished his wife, Carmen, and his girls.”
It was really hard for me to write that part last night. Finally, Colin looked at me and said, “Jack loved you the best way he knew how.” After reflecting on Colin’s words, I know that he was right. Was it shitty for him to leave his wife and four little girls for his pregnant nurse? Yes. Did he love Carmen the rest of his life, and my two half-sisters? Absolutely. I let the anger go, and feel ten pounds lighter.
“I was fortunate enough to work with my father at his medical practice. In fact, I recognize a lot of you here today. It would mean so much to Jack that his former patients attended his memorial service. Thank you, on behalf of our family.” I scan the audience and see Clay wiping a tear from his eye. My heart swells for the gentle giant, whose retirement from football brought me back into the arms of my husband. My eyes lock with Rachael, who’s sitting next to my mom, and Chelsea, blending in with my family as if her last name were also Collins. Next to Chelsea is Amy, and Aiden has his arm draped around her shoulder, comforting her. Interesting. Last, but not least, my eyes lock with my husband. He looks so dignified in his Armani charcoal-grey suit. The green tie that he’s wearing making his eyes sparkle. Right now, the love and devotion for me written on his face almost brings me to my knees.