Home From Within

by Lisa Maggiore

  Chapter 23

  Jessica spent the night lying on top of the guest bed in a fetal position wrapped in an old blanket from her youth. She stared outside at the lamppost that was shining streaks of light onto the chair under the window, not realizing how hard it would be to sleep in a home she had been cast away from seventeen years earlier. Her father’s death hung around her heart, tugging it down. Tears finally dropped onto the pillow, remembering the last time she saw her father.

  He and Paulina were returning from a horseback ride when Jessica arrived home from work. He did not put his horse in the stall but instead asked if she would like to take a ride. It was cold, with only thirty more minutes of daylight and the snow was at least three feet high, but the paths had been worn down and the ride, through snowcapped trees, was breathtaking. Jessica reluctantly agreed. They rode for a few miles, her father talking about the weather, nature, sometimes mentioning things he used to do as a youngster on the farm where he grew up. Jessica had been learning more about his history with all his years of visiting and noticed he became more open in the exposed air of the woods. He had grown up with and owned horses … until something happened. Her father would always stop short, breathing heavy, a coarse look on his face. While Jessica still shied away from direct and exploratory questions, she embraced his words, storing them in her mind to ask Aunt Lodi about at a later time.

  After a few hours of replaying past scenes with her father on the farm and fishing in the creek, she grabbed the handle and unlocked past memories of Paul. Jessica intertwined her hands together and clutched them close to her heart, trying to keep it from breaking apart. The last time she saw him—alive—he told her they would be together ‘now and forever,’ that he would be with her until she turned twenty-one, and could finally be introduced to her parents as her boyfriend. The image hurt so bad; loss was hard no matter what way it was delivered.

  Around three-thirty in the morning, Jessica decided to drink some NyQuil, believing there was no way her mind or body would allow her to have a restful couple of hours of sleep.

  When the alarm on Jessica’s cell phone rang, she could barely twist around to shut it off because her arms felt like sandbags. Gently, she placed her hands on her face, feeling around to see if she was in one piece. Opening her eyes to the brightness of the guest room made her feel upside down. Her mind and body were screaming for nighttime; daylight felt too hot on her raw emotions. Pulling herself up from the bed and resting on her elbows, she looked out the window. She felt annoyed with herself because she kept looking outside, expecting the beauty and peacefulness she would receive at her home in the UP. This window delivered only loneliness.

  Paulina’s eyes were red rimmed as she slinked into Jessica’s room and crawled into her bed, clutching onto Kleenex and Chap Stick.

  “Strange but putting this on my lips helps me stop crying,” she said.

  Jessica smiled and pulled her in closer. “Whatever works, sweetheart.”

  Paulina spoke up after a few minutes. “I miss Matt. I wish he were here. He needs to be with us.”

  Jessica caressed her hair. “I know. I miss him too.”

  “This hurts so much. I feel if he were here it would feel better.”

  Jessica held in her tears. “Well, I’m sure wherever he is, he’s praying for us. I hope that gives you some comfort.”

  “It does,” Paulina said quickly. “Yes, it does.”

  The large house allowed for a lot of privacy, something Jessica was thankful for at the moment. When everyone met in the kitchen to eat before leaving, it was the first time anyone had set eyes on each other, all dressed in black, except for Aunt Lodi. She did not conform to the old law of black at wakes and funerals; instead, she wore turquoise and beads. Her mother’s eyes looked dull, but Jessica could see the disapproval behind them.

  Aunt Lodi broke the silence. “I just want to say that I love you all and no matter what, we will always be together, as a family.”

  Jessica thought the words were being directed toward her mother, but she could not be sure.

  Her mother smiled weakly. “Yes. Family. Always.”

  The stillness and stagnant air of the funeral home made Jessica uncomfortable. She had limited experience with death: Matt’s father, Herbert, and Paul. When she was younger, she attended wakes of former servicemen of her father’s, but she did not know them personally. They were just wax figures of hard-faced men.

  Aunt Lodi and her mother brought framed pictures and placed them on a polished cherry wood table where the casket would normally sit. Some were random shots of them as a family before she was sent away and one of the only pictures they took together as a family, when Paulina graduated eighth grade. Jessica was surprised at one picture she had never seen. It was of her father, Aunt Lodi, and what looked like their parents. The picture was black-and-white, with a crease down the middle, but the faces were clear. Her father looked to be about six, Aunt Lodi ten, and they were sitting on fence posts, and behind them was a vast open range of crops, all neatly lined in rows. His mother stood next to him laughing but not looking at the camera, with her hand on top of his. His father stood next to Lodi looking content. Jessica picked up the picture to look deep at her father’s face; he looked free.

  Jessica and her family stood next to the pictures while people Jessica did not know came and went. For a while, a long stream of bodies were waiting in line to pay their condolences as others milled around, sitting quietly on the chairs or looking at a few straggled pictures in the back. Most of the mourners were men, all of whom shared the same look of war shaded over their faces. Jessica recognized some of the men from past visits to her home and could pick out who was doing better than others, basing this observation on their teeth. She had learned from working in the pharmacy and small-town life that teeth were an indicator of how well one was getting along in life.

  Jessica’s feet were not used to heels, and her legs were starting to show signs of fatigue even though she had three more hours to go. Paulina had gone upstairs to eat, and Jessica decided to take a rest on the blue couch in front, not to stray too far from her family.

  “Jessica?” a voice beckoned from the side.

  Jessica turned her head, looking at a woman with short black hair and beautiful cornflower eyes. Her heart leaped forward as she slowly stood up, shaking from the shock.

  “Marilee … oh, God …” she said, as Marilee reached out and grabbed her. They cried in each other’s arms like babies, Marilee pushing her out to look at her, then pulling her back in.

  “I can’t believe it’s you, after all these years, it’s you,” Marilee cried.

  The two made their way to the back of the room holding hands and sat down on a love seat set off from the rest. Marilee said how sorry she was for her loss first, then dove into fifty million questions. Before Jessica could field them all, Paulina came back from eating upstairs. Jessica introduced her with pride and watched Marilee’s eyes as she figured out the math. Marilee squeezed Jessica’s hand tight and with a small smile acknowledged what did not need to be said.

  After Paulina left Jessica’s side, Marilee asked if Paul knew.

  “No,” Jessica said. “He never got a chance to know.”

  Marilee looked at her cautiously, but before she could utter another word, the other Ripps arrived. Jessica was embraced by her past: Eddie, now married with four kids of his own, was a policeman and lived in the same neighborhood they grew up in. In fact, his twins were currently freshman at Heritage. Julie was a nurse at a local hospital, married to a firefighter, with three children, also living a few blocks from her parents’ home. Barbara married a lawyer; they lived downtown and had two children. According to Marilee, Tommie lived in Georgia, moving up the ranks of the Army with his wife and four children, and Kathy was the woman’s volleyball coach at Ohio State. She had two kids and was the only one divorced, something Marilee did not want to expand on. Marilee was a drama teacher and was married to a Humanities teacher; they b
oth taught at Heritage and had three children: Sophia, Curtis, and Michael.

  Marilee’s mom, Sue, grabbed Jessica up in a Ripp hug. “I hope you will never leave us—Marilee—again.”

  Sue and Bob were doing great—lost 150 pounds between them both, walked every day to keep in shape, and ate a low-carb, sometimes gluten-free diet. Jessica smiled when Marilee rolled her eyes after her mother said that. Looking at the Ripps gathered in a loving circle around her brought joyfulness beyond words; Marilee’s family made her feel complete, just like Matt’s.

  Jessica spent the next three hours introducing and talking with the two family systems that helped shape the woman she became. Jean arrived just in time to join the reunion, hitting it off with Marilee the minute each opened their mouths.

  At the end of the night, Aunt Lodi stood up and thanked everyone for coming to celebrate the life of James Lars Turner. She shared the history of a small-town farm boy who loved nature and jumping from the top of the barn loft to the bottom haystack. A boy who ran for hours in the woods, pretending he was Tom Sawyer or a Comanche warrior. A boy who picked wildflowers for his mother and made sure his father had enough snuff to make it through a day. And someone who loved his country so much that he enlisted in the Army right out of high school. Who became a member of an elite force, a Green Beret, and served his country in Vietnam for three tours. Meeting his best friend, Bob, and moving to Chicago where he would meet his eventual wife, Katherine.

  “Jim was a man who made sure those around him were protected.” Aunt Lodi’s tender voice cracked. “My brother was someone I came to rely on too. Even though I was oldest, and I bossed him around sometimes.” Jessica heard people chuckle. “Jim kept me safe, and for that, I owe much of myself to him and his family.”

  Jessica’s mother stood up next to Aunt Lodi, Kleenex in hand, and gave her ten-second version of thanking people for coming. The funeral director announced that the service would be held tomorrow at Priest Woods, by the pavilion closest to the river at ten thirty with lunch at Jim’s favorite restaurant, The Freilassen.

  Exhaustion overtook Jessica as she said her last good-bye to Matt’s family. Jean gave her new friends good-bye hugs and approached Jessica with arms open, whispering in her ear that she would pray for her and her family and to call her anytime. Marilee stood in the shadows, and Jessica was surprised she did not leave with her husband. Eddie also hung back, saying he would drive her when she was ready to leave. Jessica saw Marilee’s face a lot that night, looking as if she needed more time to reconnect, but with so many people to interact with, it was difficult to escape. Marilee approached her again and was about to say something, but Paulina stepped next to Jessica.

  “Mom, I need to go back to Grandma’s. I think I’m gonna pass out.”

  Jessica looked at Marilee and mouthed sorry, then wrapped her arms around Paulina and walked out to Aunt Lodi’s car. Jessica did not have the energy for anything other than taking care of her child.

  Chapter 24

  The drive to the forest preserve consisted of an endless river of memories, and Jessica felt she was entangled in a sticky web of her past. Piper Mall, the movie theater she and Marilee sneaked to, and restaurants she remembered from her youth passed by the window of Aunt Lodi’s car as Jessica stared out. She recalled an outing with her father to get hiking boots for her. They went to five stores before he finally realized those types of shoes needed to be purchased at a specialty store, like the place he shopped for all his hunting needs. And she remembered her father’s impatience and her silence that grew with every store they entered.

  Jessica gazed over at Aunt Lodi who was very quiet, as was Paulina. Everyone’s lost in their own grief, she thought, studying Paulina through the side mirror. Paulina loved her grandfather. As Paulina got older, Aunt Lodi coached him to navigate a different relationship—giving her money and telling her to have fun with her friends. He would always give a gift of Mace or pepper spray, to which Paulina would give the recited “Thank you so much, Grandpa,” handing it over to Jessica or Aunt Lodi when he left. But he did not impose his will on Paulina; Aunt Lodi made sure of that. Jessica believed that since Aunt Lodi was put in a position to call the shots, her father had no grounds for a defense. Jessica wanted Paulina to experience a healthy relationship with her grandfather, so she guarded the past by not speaking of too many memories. She fiercely hid the fact that her father had killed Paul.

  Jessica slid her hand around the back of the passenger seat to touch Paulina’s leg. Paulina reached over and grabbed hold of Jessica’s hand, squeezing it tight.

  Aunt Lodi pulled into the parking lot closest to the river that her father would spend hours at, trying to escape the elements of cement and brick. New green grass had emerged from its hibernation and ran over small dips along the edge of the tree line while squirrels raced around playing an intense game of tag. It was a short walk along a paved path to get to the pavilion where the service would take place. Bob Ripp asked to give a speech and two of their close police officer friends said they would also like to say a few words.

  Her mother and Jason arrived early to place a lace tablecloth and pictures on a picnic table while Seth was waiting for Jessica in the parking lot. She told him he didn’t have to come the day of the funeral but he insisted, saying that Matt would do that for his family. Matt had called and left a message on her mother’s home phone—Jessica could hear the angst in his voice. He said he was going to try to fly to Chicago, but the flights were full and he did not think he would see her for a few more days.

  Jessica sat with Aunt Lodi and Paulina on an iron bench that was next to the river while Jason and her mother stood near the pictures saying hello to the small pool of people that had gathered at the edge of the picnic tables. A cold breeze sent a chill down Jessica’s body. As she shivered from the frigid air, Aunt Lodi drew her in closer and rubbed her arm for warmth. The sun was weaving in and out of the clouds, making the day feel grimmer than Jessica wanted. She started to lower her head after peeping up at the slight brightness but lit up when she saw Marilee and her family walking toward her. She had met Marilee’s husband, David, last night. He was tall and trim with a caring tone and talkative, which made Jessica wonder how he and Marilee ever got a word in edgewise with each other. Marilee’s children were also with her: Sophia, who was eight years old, branded with Marilee’s looks, and her boys, Michael and Curtis, ages seven and five respectively, who looked a lot like her husband, but Jessica could also see Eddie in them. And the Ripp confidence coursed through all Marilee’s children.

  Marilee proceeded toward Jessica as her family walked under the pavilion to say hello to the rest of the Ripp clan. Bob was getting ready to say a few words and two men, one with deep creases on his face, the other wearing his bravado, lumbered up beside him.

  “Hello,” Marilee whispered.

  Everyone on the bench greeted her with smiles and a hug. When Jessica wrapped her arms around Marilee, she whispered that they needed to talk about something important.

  Jessica nodded, but Marilee broke the hug and grabbed her hand.

  “Jess, we need to talk …”

  But before she could finish, Marilee’s father cleared his throat and asked for everyone to find a place to stand or sit. Jessica was taken aback by the sharp look on Marilee’s face. Whatever was on her mind appeared extremely important, but it would have to wait; she would not be disrespectful toward her father or Mr. Ripp on this day. Jessica sat back down with apologetic eyes. Eventually, Marilee walked to Jessica’s side of the bench, stood behind her, and rested her hand on the top of Jessica’s shoulder.

  Jessica never heard Mr. Ripp say so many words in succession. He spoke in a deep voice about how he met her father, two skin and bone towheads in boot camp, and how they counted on each other, in battle, like brothers. That Jim had a deep commitment to his country, and Bob and Jim trusted each other with their lives. And because of their training, they operated a very successful private security busi
ness together.

  “Jim was a man called to duty; he would never leave a person behind. He was driven by courage, loyalty, and the love of protecting others.” Mr. Ripp choked up at the end, but like a specially-trained machine wheeled it back in and finished his speech in fifteen minutes flat. Jessica could not see the people behind her but could hear a few chuckles when Bob mentioned Jim’s panache for scaring people, not in a bad way of course. The two police officers, who also served in Vietnam with Bob and Jim, gave their own rugged version of a life together, what Jim taught them, and what they would miss about him. The one theme Jessica kept hearing was his love of the life, being a private gun for hire, or as the men saw him, a one-man paramilitary force. Jim lived to keep people safe; he even died for that invaluable right. But what truly haunted Jessica the most was that her father was addicted to war.

  Hearing about her father through their eyes made Jessica come to realize how little of himself he showed her. They told stories about his humorous nature and brought to light parts of his personality he hid from her. This thought, not of his death, made her cry. Marilee rubbed Jessica’s shoulder gently at first, but then Jessica felt a push ever so slightly. Marilee’s hand was starting to feel too forceful on her body, and Jessica wondered what the problem was but did not move her gaze from the men speaking.

  As the last policeman concluded his eulogy, everyone got up to say their last good-byes to the pictures on the table. Jessica pushed herself off the bench just as Marilee tried to drive her in a certain direction. She became unbalanced and ended up turning awkwardly and falling slightly back into the bench. As Jessica lifted her head to regain equilibrium, she saw him. The him whose child she carried and raised. The him she was supposed to love now and forever. The him who was dead. Oh God, Oh God, kept ringing in her head. Her heart was another matter; it had stopped. Jessica tried to inhale so she would not pass out, but it was too late. Her body met the hard surface of dirt and grass in one blow.