Ch 54 ~ In The Stillness Of The Midnight

Jon flipped over for what felt like the hundredth time that night. 

The cemetery and Rachel’s disappointment at not finding her lightning-bolt moment had kept him awake long after they’d made slow, sweet love that night.  When he did finally manage to drift off, his sleep was the restless, tiring kind that always plagued him when he was troubled.   He wasn’t sure why he’d even bothered trying.

Missing Rachel in her usual spot drooling on his shoulder, he reached to put his arm over her waist with the idea that touching her might convince his subconscious that she was fine.   What he got was an arm full of cool sheet.

This is getting ridiculous.

He lifted his head and checked the bedside clock, which glowed 2:17 through the darkness.  It was way too early – or late – for Rachel to be up.  Where the hell was she?  

With a soft grunt, he tossed the sheets back and, seeing that the bathroom was dark, opened the bedroom door.  From his position near the top of the stairs, he could see lights glowing from the floor below and quietly padded toward the kitchen in search of the source.  The kitchen lights were all out and Jon continued on to the family room, where he found the television murmuring softly.

As Jon got closer, he could he could see that even though Rachel was lying down and covered up with her favorite blanket that she wasn’t asleep, but wide awake and thoroughly engrossed with the TV.  It took him only a glance to discover that she wasn’t caught up in late-night infomercials, old movies or home shopping.    

No, it wasn’t something as mundane as that. 

The screen was filled with the images of a pregnant Rachel and a young Lauren playing together in the sand while the waves lapped away in the background.   It could’ve been any beach, anywhere if it hadn’t been for one notable landmark, also in the background – Diamond Head. 

That meant Rachel was watching video footage of one of her innumerable family vacations to Hawaii, and Jon’s heart broke just a little. 

He reached out to stroke her head, noting with relief that she didn’t seem distraught even though her eyes were a bit glassy.  “Okay if I join you?”

Tearing her eyes away from the video, Rachel looked up and offered him a small smile before folding back the blanket to invite him in.  She rolled onto her side and scooted back to make room for him to lay next to her and, when he did, she ran her hand across his bare stomach and snuggled into his chest, holding him close – almost clinging. 

He didn’t know what else to do but fold her tightly inside the circle of his arms as they laid silently together to watch the memories being brought back to life on the TV screen.

“Mommy, do you like my sand castle?”   Lauren couldn’t have been more than two or three years old.

“It’s beautiful, honey.  You’re doing such a good job!”

From behind the video camera a masculine hand reached out and rubbed Rachel’s pregnant belly.  “And there’s my gorgeous wife – still rocking that bikini, aren’t you, Mama?”

Rachel’s hand rested over the man’s and she flashed a contented smile at the camera.  “You mean I’m spilling out of it, right?  I can’t believe I’ve got another two months before this baby gets here.  I’m bigger right now than I was when I delivered Lauren.” 

“Awesome!  That means I’ve got another two months of pregnant boobs!” Nick laughed. 

“Enjoy it while you can, stud, because it’s gonna be a looooong six weeks after this little one gets here before you’re getting near me!” 

“Nah.  You won’t make me wait that long, honey, you love me too much,” he teased, poking fingers into her swollen tummy.  His prodding was rewarded with an visible protrusion as the growing baby turned from one side to the other.  “LuLu, look!  The baby in mommy’s tummy wants to play.  He’s sticking up a foot, I think.”

Lauren flopped herself across her mother and joined in the poking and prodding of the alien-looking life form inside Rachel.  She twittered with childish delight when the baby retreated from her intrusive poking, only to pop up and roll across Rachel’s tummy to the other side.

“Look, daddy!  My baby is kicking my hand!”

Rachel giggled and stroked the young girl’s hair.  “You and daddy get this baby riled up and then it keeps me up half the night.”

Nick laid down beside Rachel and turned the camera on the three of them, exclaiming, “Family portrait time!  C’mere, LuLu, get in here with mommy and daddy.  Look into the camera and say ‘Aloha’, everybody!”

The delighted family smiled and called out ‘A-LOW-HAAAAA!’ in unison. 

Her duty done, Lauren’s attention immediately turned back to her sand castle, and Nick held the camera up on himself and Rachel as he kissed her.  “Next vacation will be with two kids, Rachel.  Can you handle it?”

Rachel giggled and tapped his nose.  “I think I’ve proven I can handle anything you can dish out, Nick.”

Nick looked back at the camera, speaking directly into the lens, “Well, folks, my wife here just turned our sweet family moment into a porn challenge, so I guess I better turn the camera off and put the little one to bed so my gorgeous woman can prove just exactly how much she can handle!”

Rachel laughed another contented laugh. “Great.  Someday when we’re dead and gone our kids will watch this and talk about how kinky their parents were.”

“No they won’t.  They’ll talk about how crazy their mom was about their dad.  Now gimme a kiss, you sexy woman!”

Nick held the camera out as he puckered his lips for the loving kiss Rachel bestowed and Jon shifted uncomfortably as the camera captured the most intimate of moments between a husband and wife.  He felt like a peeping Tom as he watched the young parents who were awaiting the birth of their next child, blissfully unaware of the tragedy that would eventually rip their family apart. 

He wished it was just the intimacy that made him uncomfortable, but it was Nick’s intimacy with Rachel.  Sure, his head knew that she’d been happily married, but to actually see another man with his hands on her in such a familiar touch – and her positively glowing at the attention…  It didn’t matter that the man in question had been dead for a couple of years.  Jon’s heart was still unsettled at the undeniable connection between them. 

This isn’t about you, asshole.  She lost her entire family.

Which was even more tragic now that he’d seen Rachel in the role of mother.  A role that she was undeniably suited for as she interacted with the little girl who would’ve grown up to be the spitting of image of her mother. 

The video progressed through the family’s Hawaii vacation, Nick’s birthday and Lauren’s dance recital, while Rachel never moved a muscle.  Occasionally, he thought he felt a hot tear splash against his chest and heard a tiny sniffle, but she didn’t utter a word as the electronic images of her family continued to dominate the television screen. 

The scene changed to what Jon presumed to be a hospital operating room.  Rachel’s hair was covered with one of those blue paper caps and she was lying on a table, with a sheet blocking her view of everything below her shoulders.  The air was pierced with a newborn cry and Rachel let go with her own little mewl.

“How does he look, Nick?  Is he okay?”

The camera jiggled as the operator – and second-time aunt, Robin – peered over the drape, commenting,  “He’s pink and wrinkly, covered with goo.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.  How does he LOOK?”

Nick laughed and stroked her wife’s cheek with affection.  “He’s perfect, honey.  Ten fingers, ten toes and a brain between his legs, just like he’s supposed to have.”

“Ready for this little guy, Mommy?” Nick asked as he accepted the swaddled bundle from the nurse and held him up to his mother's face, with Rachel immediately cooing soothing words to the infant. Her delight and the loving murmurs as she cherished her newborn son were almost more than Jon could take.

And he wasn’t the only one.  Her sniffles grew more pronounced and his chest became wet with grief, nostalgia, or both. 

“You made beautiful babies, Rach,” he quietly muttered. “Absolutely beautiful.”

Rachel kissed his bare chest and squeezed him tighter.  “They really were, weren’t they?” 

Soon, the TV screen filled with images of Rachel’s family gathered around a hospital bed, watching Lauren’s introduction to her new baby brother.   Jon didn’t know which was more touching – the way the little girl delighted in the new baby or Rachel’s obvious joy at the whole scene. 

She lifted her cheek and turned her head, resting her chin on his chest to look Jon in the eyes.  “I’ll always wonder who they would have become, what they would have done with their life.  They would have married and had children of their own – all the struggles, sorrows and joys that we all have.”

How could she not wonder?  He wondered and his kids were still alive, well and raising hell.  At least he still had a shot at finding out the answers.

“I’m sorry, baby…I don’t have a clue what to say to comfort you.”

“Silly man,” she chastised, wiping at the tears that still flowed.  “Don’t you know just having you here is all the comfort I need?  I couldn’t have gotten through this day without you.”

He felt as useless as doorknobs on a wall, but if she thought he’d done something right, then who was he to disagree?

“Look,” she instructed in a watery voice, nodding toward the TV.  Somehow she had gotten the video camera away from Nick and was shooting him with the kids.  Lauren sat happily in his lap, with the bundle that was Tyler resting on her lap.  All three looked as happy as they could possibly be.  “Right now, they’re just like that.”

“You think so?”

“Wave at the Mommy, Lulu,” Nick’s voice instructed gently as he did the same.  Lauren obediently flapped her pudgy little hand in the air and picked baby Tyler’s up to wave, too. 

Eyes affixed to the image, Rachel’s fingers fluttered gently, waving at her family.  “Yes,” she whispered.  “They’re safe, they’re together… And it’s time to let their memories live in my heart instead of a shrine I’ve created for them.”

Ch 53 ~ Forget Me Not

The sun blazed through curtains that had somehow been left open last night, beating its way through Jon’s closed eyelids and into his consciousness.  Morning didn’t sit well when he was in tour-slash-vampire mode, but he barely grumbled as he squinted and turned away from the evidence of a new day.  Because, as much as he disliked mornings, turning his head to the pillow beside him and seeing Rachel was one of his greatest pleasures in life.  One he didn’t get to indulge in as much as he’d like because of his work schedule.

That’s why, when he opened his eyes and found that he was in bed alone – for the second day in a row – the relaxing afterglow of last night’s flesh-fest dissipated with the cold touch of her pillow.

Huffing quietly to himself, he snatched up the pair of jeans that was lying on the closet floor and stuffed his legs in them, only exhibiting a bit more care when he reached for the zipper.  That was only because history had taught him that careless pant-zipping sometimes didn’t end well with his commando ways.  Then he yanked a t-shirt from the nearest hanger and pushed his head through the neck-hole, tugging it down his bare torso as he exited the bedroom.

He was going to have to make a point to tell Rachel that he really didn’t appreciate her morning vanishing act.  They were on a limited timetable here, and he would appreciate receiving a little more consideration than the cup of coffee she was no doubt consuming in front of the family room fireplace. 

Surprised to find the sofa empty, Jon frowned and continued his search in the kitchen.  Maybe she hadn’t been up very long and was just now making the coffee.

But the kitchen was empty, too. 

He was just about to direct his bare feet toward her office when a movement through the window caught his eye.  Crossing to the kitchen sink, he peered outside to find Rachel in the back yard, dressed in running clothes and cutting stems from a bed of sky blue flowers.

The first inclination he had was to stick his head out the back door and bicker at her for leaving him alone in bed.  In fact, his hand was on the doorknob to do just that when her ponytailed head turned at an angle that allowed him to see her face. 

Eyes that were normally sparkling with invigoration after a run were troubled.  Lips whose smile he thrived on were pulled into a flat disconsolate line.  The jawline that defined classic elegance was taut with some unnamed emotion. 

Clearly she wasn’t picking flowers for enjoyment, and it didn’t appear as though she would appreciate his bitching or his company, so Jon bit his tongue and turned to the barista machine.  He would let the caffeine tamp down the last of his peevishness and allow him to avoid showing his ass. 

By the time the first mouthful had slipped down its throat, Rachel had slipped in through the family room slider and offered Jon a slight, but loving grin.  Her tone was a perfect match for that loving grin when she offered up a subdued, “Good morning, handsome.”

He was five times as glad he’d held his tongue now.

“Hey, baby.”  Jon held open the arm that wasn’t holding a hot cup of coffee, inviting her to step into a half-embrace.  When she did, he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple and inquired amiably, “You already been out for a run this morning?”

“Mm hmm,” she nodded, stepping backward as her eyes flicked to the makeshift bouquet in her hand.  “I wanted to run off some nervous energy.”

He nodded toward the blue buds.  “Pretty.  What kind are they?”

The way her smile went all melancholy made him almost sorry he’d asked.  “Forget-me-nots.  Tyler brought home a little seedling in a Dixie cup when he was in kindergarten, and the little thing nearly took over the yard.”

“You taking them to the cemetery?”

“Yeah.  I thought it would be a fitting gesture to leave if I tie one of Lauren’s hair ribbons around them.  Maybe.”  She shrugged.  “I don’t know.  It feels like an important day.  Like if I can manage to link the past to the present that I’ll finally feel some sort of… closure.”

Jon slipped his arm around her neck and brought her into his chest, laying a simple kiss on the top of her head.  His heart broke for her all over again.  This day was gonna suck.  No doubt about it, but he hoped once they got through this that things would start to get better.  Really better. 

                                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rachel fiddled with the blue ribbon that was several shades darker than the flowers it was binding together as Jon flipped the turn signal.  It would’ve been easier to make the fifteen minute drive herself, but she was grateful that Jon had insisted on driving.  Her thoughts had been allowed to run rampant during the short trip, with nothing but a soft classic rock soundtrack to accompany them, because Jon hadn’t uttered a word since they got in the car.  She didn’t know if that was because he had no idea what to say to her, or if he was just giving her space. 

Right now, she wasn’t sure that space was such a good option. 

As they took the final turn into the cemetery, Rachel’s nervous anticipation had her bordering on nauseated and wondering why on earth she had ever agreed to this.  Why she’d ever – even for a brief moment – considered this a good idea.  There was a very specific reason she’d avoided this place for so long. 

She was afraid it was going to shatter her. 

The reality of it all could very easily come hurtling into her with a devastating blow that would bring her to her knees.  Her carefully cultivated control would be pushed out the window and she would find herself crippled by emotions that she’d so carefully hidden away from herself.  Was she ready for that?  Was she ready to fall to pieces, for the sake of rebuilding herself again?  On a firmer foundation?  On a healthy foundation?

At that moment, the passenger door opened and Jon stood with his hand expectantly extended, waiting to help her to exit the vehicle. 

Ready or not here I come.

Inhaling deeply through her nose, Rachel accepted the proffered hand and slowly exhaled as she stood. 

“Okay?” he asked in a gentle tone. 

She nodded and smiled through the nausea.  “I wish I’d thought to bring along a bag of some kind, in case I get sick.”

His soft chuckle coated her frayed nerves like a balm.  “I got tissues, but I gotta tell ya… a barf bag never crossed my mind.”

“Then I guess I can’t throw up,” she reasoned logically, straightening the hem of the sweater that had been Nick’s favorite and hoping that logic was enough to actually prevent it from happening.  “Let’s go.”

With another deep breath and Jon at her side, she resolutely placed one foot in front of the other and climbed the gentle knoll toward the final resting place of her family.  Or at least it had seemed like a gentle knoll when she had chosen the spot right after the accident. 

Today, it affected her breathing as though she were climbing Mount Everest.  The air seemed to grow thinner and thinner as she approached the top, deficient of the oxygen she so desperately needed. 

Since when was she so out of shape that scaling a tiny hill had her gulping for air.

You’re not out of shape, and you know it.

Her physical self was just fine.  It was her emotional self that was to blame.  The anticipation of this very moment – the moment she had been putting off for what felt like decades – was to blame for her shortness of breath.  Because it was the moment that she would no longer be able to deny that she’d truly lost her husband and both of her children. 

Thin air went non-existent as she held her breath on the final few steps that placed her... there.

A modest marker, the marble headstone lay flat against the ground, prominently displaying the name “BRADEN” toward the sky.  There were only the slightest of decorative etchings, as per Rachel’s desire for simplicity and elegance, and the right side of the long rectangle bore hers and Nick’s names, while their children’s were on the left.  Beyond that, there was no other adornment except for the epitaph she vaguely remembered instructing the monument company to inscribe across the bottom.

We lived together in happiness, we rest together in peace.

Rachel stared in silence at the piece of stone bearing her family’s names and waited for the bolt of lightning she’d expected to strike her.

But none came.

The devastating meltdown she suspected could manifest in reaction to the tangible proof that her entire family was dead didn’t materialize.  Instead, the only thing she felt was the same familiar detachment she’d felt since that fateful day.   

Jon kept respectfully silent as Rachel stood there, seeking her memories and her soul.  She vividly recalled the day she’d married Nick, the day they’d found out she was expecting Lauren, the night Tyler had come screaming into the world…  And the afternoon her world had come crashing down with the news that they were all gone. 

She could remember every single detail of that moment.  The smell in the air, the way the sunlight hit the trees behind the policeman whose face would be emblazoned in her mind’s eye until the day she, herself, died.  A crisp breeze had swept into the foyer with his condolences, taking the warmth from her heart and soul and leaving behind the same benign void that still lingered on a smaller scale.

Rachel knelt on the grass, placing the flowers in the brass vase which made up the center of the marker, and traced her finger over their names.  First she lovingly touched each individual letter of the children’s names, then Nick’s.  The tactile engraving left an imprint on her fingertip, but did nothing to change the condition of her empty heart. 

Finally, still seeking some type of completion, she traced her fingers over her own name.  It was there, along with her date of birth, awaiting that last bit of information.  All that was needed to complete her family’s final resting place was the date of her own death. 

Why had she been so afraid to come to this place?  There was nothing here.  The roughness of Nick’s calloused hands against her shoulders, the softness of Lauren’s silky hair, the melody of Tyler’s giggle weren’t here.  It was as she had said all along.  There was nothing more here than a cold slab of pretty stone. 

That was all she had to show for the twenty years she’d spent building a life and family with Nick, she realized absently.  Granite and marble with a few decorative swirls.

She straightened the bow on the flowers she’d picked from the yard and stood, leaning her back against Jon’s chest.  He wrapped his arms around her waist, clasping his hands together and kissed her temple.  “You okay?” he asked quietly.

Rachel gave a slight nod and finally spoke.  “It’s a pretty headstone, isn’t it?”

“It is.  It’s beautiful, Rach.”

She placed her hands over his and hummed her agreement.  “It looks different than I thought it would, though,” she mused.  “For some reason I thought it was all marble.  I didn’t remember there was granite.”

“You were probably pretty numb when you decided on the design, but it’s very classy.  Just like you, babe.”

She twisted her head to look up at him.  “I should feel…more, shouldn’t I?  Everyone assumed I would.  Where’s the big epiphany they all thought I’d have?”

“Maybe there isn’t one, Rach.  Maybe you just don’t get one.”

“Just my luck,” she sighed, turning her gaze back to the graves. “I’ve spent the last few years terrified of seeing this piece of stone and now that I’m here, it’s still as hard to believe as the day it happened.”  Rachel stilled in Jon’s arms and remembered the knock on the door that delivered the news of their death.  “I didn’t see them, you know – after  the accident – the  crash was so bad that the funeral home suggested a closed casket for them all.    Sometimes I think I’d have been better off to have seen them, or just touched their hand… something.  I think that was a mistake, now that I think about it.  The images in my head are probably worse than anything.”

“Don’t second guess your decisions, baby.  You made the best choices you could at the time.”

“Maybe,” she agreed complacently.

They both stood quietly, each lost in their own thoughts until  Jon softly offered, “You wanna few minutes alone before we go?” 

Rachel shook her head, breaking free of memories of Christmases, birthday parties and family vacations with an appreciative smile.  “No, but thank you for offering.  I’m ready.  Whatever it was that I expected to find here...  I guess it just doesn’t exist.”

Ch 52 ~ Jacuzzi Jeopardy

Jon eased his naked body into the outdoor Jacuzzi with a soft groan of appreciation as the water swirled around him.  His head thunked gently back against the edge and he thanked God that he had five days of nothing but Rachel ahead of him. 

Dinner with her sister and brother-in-law had been okay – particularly after Robin had said her piece – but it was still someone else to deal with.  Someone else that he had to focus on.  Someone else he had to engage with. 

With Rachel, he could just be himself.

Jon closed his eyes and grinned to himself. 

My horny, insatiable self.

Unfortunately, Robin’s words were niggling at the back of his mind and putting the hoodoo on his mojo.

“Do you realize she’s never visited their graves?” her voice repeated over and over.  “Do you know that Lauren and Tyler’s rooms haven’t been touched since they died?”

In his defense, Jon hadn’t known Rachel had never been to the cemetery, but had he been deluding himself?  Was Rachel really a psychological mess drowning in denial instead of the self-confident woman who seemed to have it all together?  Had he only been seeing what he wanted to see?  Turning a blind eye to anything but his own happiness?

You know the answer to that.

Completely unintentional, but that’s exactly what Jon had been doing.  Just this morning, he’d noticed Lauren and Tyler’s rooms, but had barely paused because Rachel had been hurrying him along to something she’d done make him happy.

And he’d followed along like an eager puppy without stopping to focus on the missing pieces.  Time and time again. 

Something else Robin had said stepped to the forefront of his mind, pushing the cemetery and kids’ rooms aside.  “She can’t accept their deaths, Jon – or Nick’s.  And until she can do more than go through the motions, she has no business starting a new life – with you or anybody else.”

That could very well be true.  Probably.  What the hell did he know about losing a spouse and kids?  Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.  Yet he was the one in a position to… do something.  To help pull Rachel out of denial so she could finally either banish the ghosts or learn to happily co-exist with them.

The patio door snicked softly shut, alerting Jon that Rachel had come to join him. 

Pulling himself out of his mind, Jon opened his eyes, lifted his head and smiled at the woman who approached him in nothing more than a fluffy white bath sheet.  The moment that plush terrycloth hit the ground, his big head cleared of heavy thoughts so the blood could fuel the little head.

It’s waited this long.  It can wait a little longer.

Extending his hand, he acted as a stabilizer while she first slipped one smooth, toned leg into the water and then the other.

“Mmm… mmm… MMM…,” he admired as she sat adjacent to him and settled her feet onto his thighs.  Sliding one appreciative hand along her silky calf, he murmured,  “You have the most perfect legs.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked with a skeptically arched eyebrow, accepting the glass of wine he offered her.  “What makes them so perfect?”

“What you ask?  Well… They have a foot on one end…” He lightly tapped the end of her French-manicured toe before waggling his eyebrows suggestively.  “…and pussy on the other.”

“Oh for the love of God,” Rachel laughed, trying to pull her feet back, but he grabbed her ankles and kept them put.  “How do manage to keep your crass side hidden from the public every day?”

“Many, many years of training,” he explained, rubbing a thumb along the arch of her foot.  “I have to be ‘on’ when I’m in public.  Fortunately – when I’m with you – I don’t have to be anything other than the crass Jersey boy I was born to be.”

“Aren’t I the lucky one?” she drawled with a little laugh, setting the wine on the edge of the Jacuzzi as she finally slipped her feet free.  He wasn’t too upset about her escape when she straddled his lap and smiled the most deliciously dirty smile. 

Jon’s hands wound around her waist and then slipped lower to cup her phenomenally perfect ass.  “Why yes, you are.  And you’re about to get even luckier,” he predicted, his mouth tipping up to capture her bottom lip.  No matter how many times he kissed her, the taste of Rachel still made him go hard as a rock.  “Hell, after a month together in London, you’ll feel lucky enough to apply for leprechaun status.” 

“OH!” Rachel pulled back from the kiss, her eyes wide.

“What?  You don’t like leprechauns?”

She nudged his shoulder with the heel of her hand and laughed.  “No, dumbass!  I just remembered that I’ve been meaning to ask about your tour break in August.”

He tried diligently to wrap his head – the big one – around the change in subject.  How did women switch gears so fast?  One minute they could be just about to sink onto your dick and the next they were talking vacations. 

Christ.

“What about it?” he sighed, trying not to sound too annoyed.  They had several more days to rut like the animal he wanted to be.  This was just an unscheduled – for him, at least – pause in the action.

“Well, I know you’re spending it with the kids,” she acknowledged, oblivious to the hardness poking into her thigh.  “But I wondered if you might like to bring them out here for part of that time?   It would be nice to acclimate them to my place, and there’s San Francisco, Monterey… All sorts of things they might enjoy.”

His hard-on deflated as the blood returned northward to the big head, and the heavy thoughts came pouring back in with it.

So much for putting this on the back burner.

This conversation was not going to end with him happily rutting away.  He just knew it, even as carefully as he considered his words before speaking them. 

“That’s a possibility, I guess,” he slowly acknowledged.  “But… To be honest, I’m not sure I want to put my kids in a situation that might make them uncomfortable.”  

Rachel leaned back, with a frown so pronounced that it distracted him from the breasts that bobbed in his face. “Why would they be uncomfortable here?”

How did he broach this?  Did he go into ‘on’ mode, and be all politically correct, or did he just blurt it out with all the tact of a mentally impaired hyena?

You just got through saying you didn’t have to be ‘on’ with her, but retarded hyena isn’t going to win you any popularity contest with her.  Why don’t you find some middle ground, dipshit?

He took a quiet, but deep breath and brushed a thumb over her cheek.  “Because Lauren and Tyler’s presence is so prominent here, Rach.  Both of their bedrooms are pretty much shrines. In fact, Robin told me tonight that the sheets on the beds are the same ones the kids slept in the day they died.”

“So that’s what you and my sister were talking about while you were supposedly helping her clean up?”

Any traces of lingering lust had completely disappeared to be replaced by annoyance, and she scooted off of Jon’s lap onto the seat across from him.  

“Among other things, yeah,” he admitted, sitting up straighter and angling toward her.  “Look, I understand why you might wanna leave their rooms somewhat preserved.  I do.  But I don’t want my kids to feel like they can’t be at home here because they might offend you if they moved Lauren’s teddy bear off the bed or played with Tyler’s Legos.” 

His soft tone apparently didn’t do anything to soften Rachel’s pique.

“I would never make your kids feel anything other than welcome, Jon.  That’s ridiculous and you know it.  I can’t believe you and Robin huddled up to talk about whether or not I’ve changed my kids’ beds since they died!”

“C’mon, baby… it wasn’t like that,” he defended.  “Robin’s concerned about you, that’s all.  She feels like you’ve got some unresolved issues because you haven’t gone to the cemetery and that, with our past problems, you might be vulnerable.  I kind of wonder if she isn’t right, Rach.  Maybe it is time to deal with it, huh?”

As quickly as she’d riled, her displeasure fled just as quickly.  Rachel sighed at the same time her shoulders slumped wearily.  “You know…  I’m tired of there being something new to deal with every time we’re together, Jon.  Really, really tired of it.  Can’t we keep this week drama free and just enjoy each other?”

Jon slithered through the warm waves to join her on the other side of the Jacuzzi, and pulled her across his lap.  She immediately settled against him, giving him a warm feeling right in the center of his chest.  “I enjoy this.  I enjoy anything when we’re together and there’s no drama.  We’re just talking, Rach.  Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“I’m not the one who brought it up,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“Maybe not, but if I hadn’t we would never talk about this.”  He dusted his lips over her bare shoulder.  “You’ve really never been to the cemetery?”

“No.  The grave thing has always seemed so final.  I live with the reality that they’re never coming home again, but seeing their names etched in slabs of granite with their lives represented by nothing more than a little dash...  I just don’t know how torturing myself with it is going to make any difference.  I won’t love them any more or less if I don’t see their headstones.”

“It will be hard,” Jon conceded.  “But you’re a strong woman, Rachel Braden.  You’ve proven that time and time again.”

She didn’t realize that she’d already done the hardest part.  Living without them all this time, knowing they would never walk through the front door.  That was the hard part – not going to look at grave markers.

“Yanno, Rach,  I’m not really a funeral or cemetery kinda guy but, if you’d go, I wouldn’t mind tagging along with you.”

She lifted her head, face wrinkled with confusion when she asked, “Why?”

“Because they were your whole life.” He shrugged.  “I feel like I should be man enough to acknowledge that and pay my respects.  This little visit might be good for both of us.   Or, if you’d prefer to have a little privacy, then I’ll respect that.”

“No.”  she murmured demurely, studying his eyes in the dim light before coming forward to rest her head on his shoulder once more.

“No, what?”

“I don’t think I want to go alone.  I’m not sure I want to go at all, but somehow the thought of having you with me makes the idea feel less…terrifying.  I’ve always sort of been afraid of what will happen if I went.  What if I get there and I just lose it?”  Rachel slipped her hand between them and pressed it to her chest before blowing a long breath over his shoulder.  “My heart’s racing just thinking about it.  I guess I’ve always subconsciously believed that staying away somehow keeps me protected from the horribleness of it all.  The finality.”

He couldn’t begin to put himself in her shoes.  Would he be the type to stand vigil at a gravestone to be closer to his kids?  Or would he do the same thing she was doing and hide from the pain?

Jon hoped he never had to find out. 

Taking the hand from her chest, he softly kissed the palm.  “Whatever happens, whatever it is that you feel… I’ll be there to talk you off the ledge.   I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” Rachel nodded and wound her fingers through his, squeezing until he thought she would break either his fingers or hers.  “I love you, Jonny, for a thousand reasons.  I might cuss you during and afterward, but I especially love you for this.”

He chuckled softly.  “If you need to cuss, baby, then let ‘er rip.  I might even let you in on some of my personal Jersey-crafted super filthy swear words if it helps.”

“I might hold you to that.” Finally, that smile he loved so much tipped up the corners of her mouth.  “I should probably get this over with before I lose my nerve.   Let’s go tomorrow, okay?”

She could’ve picked in the dead middle of Halloween night or the crack of dawn.  It wouldn’t have mattered.  If she was willing to go, he’d smile and be thrilled with whatever time she chose.  The important thing was that she was finally facing her past.  When she did, they could move onto the future.

“You bet, baby.  We’ll go first thing in the morning.”

Ch 51 ~ Family Dinner

The late-evening California sunshine was a beautiful shade of crimson as it slowly slid downward in the sky, its final rays reflecting off the pool’s surface in Robin’s backyard.  Being the latter part of April, the daylight had begun to linger further into the day and she was looking forward to the weeks ahead when the sunshine tarried even longer.

But not as much as I’m looking forward to this dinner being over.

Her facial muscles ached with the forced laughter and smiles she’d put forth during the last two hours.  Not that she didn’t love the time spent with her sister, but Jon’s presence was a continual reminder that Rachel’s life wasn’t where it should be.

She sipped the Pinot Grigio he had presented to her with an over-wide grin and a kiss against her cheek, while Rick animatedly chatted with him about football spring training camps. 

“I don’t know what your deal is, but get over it,” Rachel whispered, leaning close.  “You haven’t spoken half a dozen words to him, and you haven’t said much more to me.”

“Sorry,” she murmured.  “But Mom always said if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”

Rachel rolled her eyes and huffed quietly.  “You’re being a pain in the ass.”

“Yes,” she acknowledged, putting her near-empty glass on the patio table.  “But it’s for your own good, so suck it up, buttercup.”

Her words had unintentionally gotten a bit louder with that last phrase, catching the attention of the men, who both turned curious gazes on her.  She called her forced smile into service once again and stood, sweeping up plates that had been emptied of their grilled fish, vegetables and rice pilaf. 

“Don’t mind me, guys.  I’m just going to clean up.”

Rachel immediately stood, saying, “I’ll help you.”

The words had no more left her mouth when Jon also stood, shaking his head with a smile and waving her away.  “Sit down and relax, honey.  I’ll help Robin.  I am practically a professional dishwasher, after all.”

He began scooping up the serving dishes, even as Rachel hesitated with her hand hovering over her wineglass.  “No, I think – ”

“Relax, Rachel,” Robin interrupted with a sarcastic snort over her shoulder.  “There’s only one of me.  How much trouble could he possibly get into?”

It was just as well that she missed the reassuring wink he gave Rachel before following Robin into the kitchen with his arms full of serving dishes.    She would have just been annoyed.  As it was, she still had to bite her lip to keep from saying something far bitchier than she should. 

Honestly, she didn’t hate the guy.  In other circumstances, she would think it was pretty cool that her sister was in a relationship with a rock star.  Hell, she still thought it was pretty cool, but that didn’t make it right for her sister.  And if it wasn’t right for her sister, she wasn’t going to pretend otherwise.

Jon set the bowls and platters into the sink and leaned back against the counter, arms crossed.  “You’re pissed at me, I get that,” he began.

“Pissed at you?” she interjected over the sink’s running water.  “You think I’m pissed at you?”

“Well, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am, as a matter of fact.”  The water cut off with a firm slap of the faucet handle.  “But not for your stupid teenage horndog antics, which you should be smacked upside the head for on sheer principle.”

“That’s really none of your business, but if it will make you feel better and clear the air between us…”  He offered his cheek and, in the process, earned a grudging brownie point in Robin’s book.  “Then go ahead.”

“Argh,” she grumbled and dumped the silverware in the dishwater, unable to come up with a better response on the spur of the moment.  She was tempted.  Sorely tempted. 

“No?”  His cheek edged forward one more time before he withdrew it.  “Well then can we put this behind us and get along?  If for no other reason than for Rachel’s sake, if that’s what it takes?”

“That’s exactly why I have no desire to get along with you.  For Rachel’s sake.”

He sighed with frustration and, for once, she didn’t feel bad about being a stereotypical woman that bumfuzzled a man’s simple little mind with vague statements.  She had been up late worrying about this for more nights than she could count.  Robin felt she was entitled to bust his balls a little. 

She was almost disappointed when he didn’t take the bait and try and pin her cryptic comment down.  Instead he took the high road. 

Dammit.  He was a decent guy. 

“Your sister and I have settled things between us and she’s happy.  I think that’s the most important thing, isn’t it?  To me and you both?”  When her only response was to rinse out a glass, he prodded.  “C’mon, Robin, you can see she’s happy, right?”

Mercifully, the glass didn’t break when she used an extra heavy hand to put it in the dish drainer.  If it had, she would’ve paid it no mind, because she was more focused on fixing Jon Bon Jovi with narrowed eyes and words that were double-dipped in sarcasm.  “You mean because she’s not in a straightjacket?  Yeah, that’s real progress.”

“She’s fine.  We both had a rough few months when she left New Jersey but all that’s water under the bridge.”

Of course he thought it was all about him.  He’d come in and dug his backside out of the hole he’d dug and now thought everything should be hunky dory. 

“I don’t know if you’re so arrogant because you’re famous, or that’s just part of being a man, but not everything is about you, yanno.  Rachel has her own issues outside of your stupidity and your presence is allowing her to pretend they don’t exist.  Again.”

His jaw ticked with the first sign that he was anything other than completely relaxed and at ease, but his voice remained perfectly subdued when responding, “I can hardly be faulted for feeling like I need to defend myself, because you didn’t seem to have a problem with me before the breakup.  Now I’m the bad guy?”

Okay, that one made her feel a little guilty.  Like she was kicking a lame dog because he was convenient.  Or something. 

Robin sighed and wiped her hands on a dishtowel.  “Jon, I realize you’re not a bad guy.  When the two of you first got involved I supported it because it was good to see some spark of life back in her.  But that didn’t change the fact that she wasn’t really coming to terms with the grief over the loss of her family.  She just found a more interesting reason to ignore it.”

“I disagree,” he countered with a firm shake of his head.  “Listen, I know you’re protective of her because she’s your baby sister.  I have kid brothers so I can relate, but Rachel is a very strong woman – stronger than you give her credit for.”

She rolled her eyes so far toward the ceiling, they may very well have stuck there.  “Good or bad, you seriously don’t have the first clue what you’re talking about when it comes to Rachel’s demons.”

“I know she’s happy that we’ve committed to each other and a life together.   Happier than I’ve ever seen her and, I don’t care whether you think I’m arrogant or not, she wasn’t gonna find that with anybody but me.  Certainly not with that dipshit James.”

Oh great.  Now it’s not only all about him, it’s a pissing contest with James.

Unfortunately for Jon, Robin happened to respect James.

“Yeah well, ‘that dipshit James’ at least acknowledges that Rachel has baggage she needs to work through.  In fact, James was the one who finally got her on the right path, dealing with the death of her kids and husband in a healthy way.  You’re –“ She pointed an accusatory finger right at his nose.  “ – content to pretend they never existed and live in denial right alongside her.”

“That’s not true at all,” Jon countered with unexpected gentleness and a flicker of what might be pain in his eyes. “I realize she had a life and a family before me and I know she’ll never be free of that pain.  But I can’t change any of the past and neither can she.  We can only build a life from here.”

His soft-spoken demeanor took the starch out of her panties and Robin took a step back and studied the man who supposedly loved her sister.  If he loved her, and was in a committed relationship with Rachel, then he should want what was best for her.  Maybe he really didn’t understand the situation here.  Maybe it was as simple as Robin pointing it out.

She had nothing to lose in trying, because it seemed that – no matter her opinion – Jon and Rachel were together.  This might at least relieve some of her worry.

“Do you realize she’s never visited their graves?” she inquired of him somberly.  When he silently shook his head, she continued. “Do you know that Lauren and Tyler’s rooms haven’t been touched since they died?  The sheets on their beds are the same ones they crawled out of the morning of the accident.”

“And you think she should… what?  Remodel?  Redecorate?”

“No,” Robin denied sadly.  “I think she should admit to herself they’re never coming home again.  She can’t accept their deaths, Jon – or Nick’s.  And until she can do more than go through the motions, she has no business starting a new life – with you or anybody else.”