This is the original ending to this story. This is the way I dreamed it, and this is the way I wrote it. Once it was out there, on the board on which it was originally posted, I got lots of reaction: some good, some not so much.
Either way, whether you like the content of the story or not, I hope it moves you.
It did me.
~ Hath
One: Distraught
The ringing wouldn’t stop. Jon cracked an eye and looked at the phone on the bedside table. Nobody used his land line anymore. What the hell? Tiffany roughly elbowed him. “Make it stop,” she mumbled.
By the third ring, he was sitting up in bed, blankets gathered at his waist, and he squinting at the clock. The red numbers glared 6:22. He sighed and picked up the handset. “This had better be good,” Jon said, yawning, and scratching at his bare chest. He and Tiffany had had a late night, and Jon had been looking forward to sleeping in.
“Jon?” A soft, terrified voice croaked over the phone line. Jon had to shake his head and blink a couple of times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
“Rich? That you, brother? What’s wrong?” The tone in Jon’s voice had Tiffany instantly all the way awake and sitting upright.
“Damn, Jon, fuck, man, I need you,” Richie’s voice wasn’t right. Jon listened hard; it sounded like his best friend was crying. Richie’s next words came out all in a tumble. “It’s Jen. Her plane...Stephanie called me...there’s been an accident...Jen may be in the hospital somewhere...Or she could be dead...they won’t tell us anything.”
“Rich, RICH!” Jon leapt out of bed and began pacing the room, heedless of the fact he was naked. “Slow down, man, what the hell are you saying? What about Jen’s plane?”
Tiffany groaned, “Oh God,” and got up too, wrapping her robe around her.
Jon heard Richie take a deep breath. “Jen’s plane crashed.”
“WHAT!?” Jon sprinted from the room, with Richie’s rough breathing in his ear, and Tiffany close on his heels. He ran to his office and logged in to the computer. He searched for “plane crash, Boston” and there was very little information, save for a blurb on AP.
Delta Flight 1121 from Boston to Los Angeles crashed shortly after its scheduled 5:45am takeoff this morning. The plane had just cleared 1500 feet when the starboard engines caught fire and exploded from the wing. Eye witness accounts have the plane falling from the sky; the starboard wing catching on the grass before flipping the plane over. The aircraft slid several hundred feet, ultimately crashing into a bunker. The entire front end of the plane was crushed. No details about the passengers have been released, pending notification of next of kin. Sources do say there were survivors, but refuse to say how many or who they are.
“Oh no,” Tiffany said, reading over Jon’s shoulder. She started to sob, then ran back to their bedroom. She got dressed and began throwing clothes into a suitcase.
“Rich,” Jon said. “The news says there could be survivors. She could have made it.”
“Jon, I want to believe that. With all my soul I want to, but I feel a hole in my heart, man,” Richie said softly.
“You have to stay positive, until you know for sure.” Jon didn’t believe a word of what he was saying, but he knew that his friend would need all the strength Jon could offer him. “Where are you?” Jon asked, his own voice getting thick.
Richie took a deep, steadying breath. “I’m in a cab on the way to the airport. I’m going to buy tickets on every plane that’s heading east and hope for the best.” His voice got a little stronger, but Jon knew that Richie wouldn’t be able hold it together much longer. “Fuck it’ll be another six hours at least before I can get to the hospital where they’re taking anyone who – ” he couldn’t finish the sentence. He cleared his throat harshly. “That’s too long,” he muttered. “If she’s there, if she’s still alive, I have to know.”
Tiffany came back into the office with a suitcase, and Jon’s jeans, t-shirt, sneakers and socks. “We are on the way right now,” he said, mouthing ‘thank you’ to his wife. “We’ll get to Boston in a couple hours and call your cell. Gimme Stephanie’s number so she can keep us informed on the way. Give me Jen’s mother’s info too. I’ll call her and tell her you’re on the way.” Jon blinked rapidly to clear the tears that were starting to gather, and stepped into his jeans. “Who else do you want me to call?”
“Heather. Ava has to know, but I can’t do that right now.”
“Done,” Jon said. “You said Stephanie called?”
Richie let out a hollow chuckle. “Yeah, that’s the only reason I know anything. She was there, man.”
“Oh shit.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“You guys don’t have to come to the airport with me,” Jennifer said, watching the taillights of the moving van recede into the night. “I have to leave at 3:30 in the morning; that’s pretty early. You guys should just sleep in.” The girls had been busy all day, packing up what had to go to LA. Boxes of clothes, computer and stereo equipment, photo albums and books, all piled neatly into the back of the van. There was room to roll the Harley in alongside the boxes, and a trailer on the back of the truck carried her convertible. She’d see her things later, and she and Richie could give everything its own place.
“Pfft!” Stephanie hissed. “We are coming and that’s that. You need a proper send off to your new life, and you won’t let your parents go.”
“Yeah,” Gail added, “and you can’t tell us what to do, so we’re going with you.”
“Besides,” Cheryl added, “what kind of friends would we be if we didn’t see you off?” The four women shared a laugh.
When 3:30 came, the girls all gathered in the garage. It looked empty without the Caddy and the Harley sitting in it. Wiping a tear of melancholy from her eye, Jennifer gave herself a little shake. “Let’s get gone,” she said. “My flight leaves in a little more than two hours.”
Stephanie drove the truck to the airport. They joked and laughed the whole way, talking about Jennifer being a student again. “You’ll have all the college boys drooling over you,” Stephanie said.
“Yeah, right,” Jennifer said. “Like I’d even look their way if they were. Have you SEEN who I’m moving in with?”
Gail nodded. “Yeah, but still, all that young, tight, fresh meat,” she licked her lips. “Makes a girl wanna get all studious,” she said.
“You are so bad,” Cheryl laughed. “But so not wrong.”
When they got to the airport, they parked in the short-term lot and made their way to the desk. Jennifer checked in, declining a first-class window-seat upgrade in favor of keeping her aisle seat in coach. She couldn’t bring herself to sit by the window. After getting checked in, the women settled in for coffee and waited for the call for Jennifer’s flight. When it came, Cheryl, Gail and Stephanie accompanied Jennifer to the x-ray line, and waited with her until it was her turn to go through.
“Call us when you land,” Stephanie said. “We’ll be at your house for another day or so; if you’re missing anything, we can send it out to you.”
Jennifer laughed and hugged her friends. “You guys are the absolute best,” she said. “I love you.” She waved when she got through the security checkpoint, and went to find her gate.
Jennifer’s friends watched her plane take off from the lounge. They sighed wistfully, knowing that when she got to LA, Richie was going to propose to her. He had let them know that the other day. They were pretty sure that Jennifer already knew, but she was going to let Richie think he was surprising her.
The women had just turned away from the window when they heard an explosion. “What the Christ was that?” Gail asked, as they ran back to the windows. Hundreds of people followed suit.
“OH MY GOD!” someone cried from behind them. Everyone instinctively looked up, and saw smoke streaming from the wing of an airplane.
“Oh shit, is that the LA flight?” someone else asked. The sound of two hundred people dialing their cell phones filled the corridor. “Oh hell, it IS the LA flight!” another voice added.
Gail, Cheryl, and Stephanie looked at each other, then back out through the window. They clasped hands and watched in horror as the plane dipped dramatically. There was a collective gasp as the plane started to rapidly descend. “No, no, no, no, no, no,” Cheryl was whispering under her breath. All three women were crying outright.
They couldn’t tear their gazes away, though they knew they didn’t want to watch anymore. They sobbed when the plane caught the very edge of the field and flipped over. They screamed when the plane started to slide. With nothing to slow it down, the plane careened into a concrete bunker set into the hillside at the end of the field. The cockpit and first class sections crumpled as if the plane was made of paper.
Alarms started ringing, and pandemonium ensued. The women watched as fire and other rescue trucks sped off in the distance. They cried out and sunk to the floor when a fireball rose into the sky. They wrapped their arms around each other and wept.
Long minutes later, Gail pushed back. “We have to call Ma,” she said softly. “And Richie.”
“Oh God,” Stephanie said. “I don’t want to do that, but you’re right.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“Yeah,” Richie said. “Shit. Gail called Ma, Stephanie called me. Cheryl was calling Krissy and Jen’s other friends. Ma’s on her way to the hospital and promised to let me know when she hears anything, but I’ll feel better if you’re there. You’ll tell me the truth. Ma will try to spare my feelings.”
Jon and Tiffany were on their way down to the garage. “Rich, we are on the way. Talk to me, brother. Talk to me until you get to the airport.”
And he did. Richie told Jon all about the ring he had bought for Jennifer, and pulled the box out of his pocket to look at it again. The ring was a square-cut 2 carat diamond set on a wide platinum band. Ava had gone ring shopping with him and had zeroed in on this one in the third shop they visited. He didn’t know why he brought it with him; it just seemed like the right thing to do. He told his best friend about the hints he’d been dropping to her about wanting to marry her, and the hints back that Jennifer was going to say yes. Richie shared his plans for asking Jennifer to marry him, though Jon already knew from Tiffany. He told Jon about their time with Ava, about Jen’s interview at UCLA on Wednesday, any and every little thing Richie could think of. By the time Richie got to the airport, Jon knew almost as much about Jennifer as he did Tiffany.
“Alright,” Richie said. “I’m at LAX. Thanks man. Thanks for listening.” His voice cracked once but Richie choked the emotion back down. “I’m gonna believe she’s alive,” Richie said, his words accompanied by a sniffle. In his mind, Jon could see Rich squaring his shoulders, forcing himself to go on. “But call me if you hear anything, no matter what it is. Promise me.”
“I swear to you, Rich, I’ll call you if I hear anything at all. Love you man.”
“You too,” Richie said, and closed his phone. He looked at it, and sighed. After paying the driver, he made his way inside the bustling airport. A group of reporters was waiting.
“Richie!” one shouted. “Is it true that Jen’s plane crashed?”
“What happened in Boston, Richie?”
“Why was Jen coming back to LA, Richie? Are you getting married?”
“Did she make it?” another yelled.
He shook his head, and pushed roughly past them, anger clouding his vision. They followed Richie inside and crowded around him while he went to purchase his tickets. Fortunately, there was a seat on a flight to Boston that left within the next hour, but it was coach. Richie didn’t care, as long as he got on the plane.
Richie turned to look at the reporters, his brown eyes having gone black with fury. “Back off,” he said, his voice quiet steel. “My fiancée was on that plane. Show a little compassion, and get out of my fucking way or I’ll break your fucking necks.” He pushed at the closest one, making him almost fall, but he moved out of the way, and the others followed suit. Richie stalked through to security, effectively shutting down their questions.
By the third ring, he was sitting up in bed, blankets gathered at his waist, and he squinting at the clock. The red numbers glared 6:22. He sighed and picked up the handset. “This had better be good,” Jon said, yawning, and scratching at his bare chest. He and Tiffany had had a late night, and Jon had been looking forward to sleeping in.
“Jon?” A soft, terrified voice croaked over the phone line. Jon had to shake his head and blink a couple of times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
“Rich? That you, brother? What’s wrong?” The tone in Jon’s voice had Tiffany instantly all the way awake and sitting upright.
“Damn, Jon, fuck, man, I need you,” Richie’s voice wasn’t right. Jon listened hard; it sounded like his best friend was crying. Richie’s next words came out all in a tumble. “It’s Jen. Her plane...Stephanie called me...there’s been an accident...Jen may be in the hospital somewhere...Or she could be dead...they won’t tell us anything.”
“Rich, RICH!” Jon leapt out of bed and began pacing the room, heedless of the fact he was naked. “Slow down, man, what the hell are you saying? What about Jen’s plane?”
Tiffany groaned, “Oh God,” and got up too, wrapping her robe around her.
Jon heard Richie take a deep breath. “Jen’s plane crashed.”
“WHAT!?” Jon sprinted from the room, with Richie’s rough breathing in his ear, and Tiffany close on his heels. He ran to his office and logged in to the computer. He searched for “plane crash, Boston” and there was very little information, save for a blurb on AP.
Delta Flight 1121 from Boston to Los Angeles crashed shortly after its scheduled 5:45am takeoff this morning. The plane had just cleared 1500 feet when the starboard engines caught fire and exploded from the wing. Eye witness accounts have the plane falling from the sky; the starboard wing catching on the grass before flipping the plane over. The aircraft slid several hundred feet, ultimately crashing into a bunker. The entire front end of the plane was crushed. No details about the passengers have been released, pending notification of next of kin. Sources do say there were survivors, but refuse to say how many or who they are.
“Oh no,” Tiffany said, reading over Jon’s shoulder. She started to sob, then ran back to their bedroom. She got dressed and began throwing clothes into a suitcase.
“Rich,” Jon said. “The news says there could be survivors. She could have made it.”
“Jon, I want to believe that. With all my soul I want to, but I feel a hole in my heart, man,” Richie said softly.
“You have to stay positive, until you know for sure.” Jon didn’t believe a word of what he was saying, but he knew that his friend would need all the strength Jon could offer him. “Where are you?” Jon asked, his own voice getting thick.
Richie took a deep, steadying breath. “I’m in a cab on the way to the airport. I’m going to buy tickets on every plane that’s heading east and hope for the best.” His voice got a little stronger, but Jon knew that Richie wouldn’t be able hold it together much longer. “Fuck it’ll be another six hours at least before I can get to the hospital where they’re taking anyone who – ” he couldn’t finish the sentence. He cleared his throat harshly. “That’s too long,” he muttered. “If she’s there, if she’s still alive, I have to know.”
Tiffany came back into the office with a suitcase, and Jon’s jeans, t-shirt, sneakers and socks. “We are on the way right now,” he said, mouthing ‘thank you’ to his wife. “We’ll get to Boston in a couple hours and call your cell. Gimme Stephanie’s number so she can keep us informed on the way. Give me Jen’s mother’s info too. I’ll call her and tell her you’re on the way.” Jon blinked rapidly to clear the tears that were starting to gather, and stepped into his jeans. “Who else do you want me to call?”
“Heather. Ava has to know, but I can’t do that right now.”
“Done,” Jon said. “You said Stephanie called?”
Richie let out a hollow chuckle. “Yeah, that’s the only reason I know anything. She was there, man.”
“Oh shit.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“You guys don’t have to come to the airport with me,” Jennifer said, watching the taillights of the moving van recede into the night. “I have to leave at 3:30 in the morning; that’s pretty early. You guys should just sleep in.” The girls had been busy all day, packing up what had to go to LA. Boxes of clothes, computer and stereo equipment, photo albums and books, all piled neatly into the back of the van. There was room to roll the Harley in alongside the boxes, and a trailer on the back of the truck carried her convertible. She’d see her things later, and she and Richie could give everything its own place.
“Pfft!” Stephanie hissed. “We are coming and that’s that. You need a proper send off to your new life, and you won’t let your parents go.”
“Yeah,” Gail added, “and you can’t tell us what to do, so we’re going with you.”
“Besides,” Cheryl added, “what kind of friends would we be if we didn’t see you off?” The four women shared a laugh.
When 3:30 came, the girls all gathered in the garage. It looked empty without the Caddy and the Harley sitting in it. Wiping a tear of melancholy from her eye, Jennifer gave herself a little shake. “Let’s get gone,” she said. “My flight leaves in a little more than two hours.”
Stephanie drove the truck to the airport. They joked and laughed the whole way, talking about Jennifer being a student again. “You’ll have all the college boys drooling over you,” Stephanie said.
“Yeah, right,” Jennifer said. “Like I’d even look their way if they were. Have you SEEN who I’m moving in with?”
Gail nodded. “Yeah, but still, all that young, tight, fresh meat,” she licked her lips. “Makes a girl wanna get all studious,” she said.
“You are so bad,” Cheryl laughed. “But so not wrong.”
When they got to the airport, they parked in the short-term lot and made their way to the desk. Jennifer checked in, declining a first-class window-seat upgrade in favor of keeping her aisle seat in coach. She couldn’t bring herself to sit by the window. After getting checked in, the women settled in for coffee and waited for the call for Jennifer’s flight. When it came, Cheryl, Gail and Stephanie accompanied Jennifer to the x-ray line, and waited with her until it was her turn to go through.
“Call us when you land,” Stephanie said. “We’ll be at your house for another day or so; if you’re missing anything, we can send it out to you.”
Jennifer laughed and hugged her friends. “You guys are the absolute best,” she said. “I love you.” She waved when she got through the security checkpoint, and went to find her gate.
Jennifer’s friends watched her plane take off from the lounge. They sighed wistfully, knowing that when she got to LA, Richie was going to propose to her. He had let them know that the other day. They were pretty sure that Jennifer already knew, but she was going to let Richie think he was surprising her.
The women had just turned away from the window when they heard an explosion. “What the Christ was that?” Gail asked, as they ran back to the windows. Hundreds of people followed suit.
“OH MY GOD!” someone cried from behind them. Everyone instinctively looked up, and saw smoke streaming from the wing of an airplane.
“Oh shit, is that the LA flight?” someone else asked. The sound of two hundred people dialing their cell phones filled the corridor. “Oh hell, it IS the LA flight!” another voice added.
Gail, Cheryl, and Stephanie looked at each other, then back out through the window. They clasped hands and watched in horror as the plane dipped dramatically. There was a collective gasp as the plane started to rapidly descend. “No, no, no, no, no, no,” Cheryl was whispering under her breath. All three women were crying outright.
They couldn’t tear their gazes away, though they knew they didn’t want to watch anymore. They sobbed when the plane caught the very edge of the field and flipped over. They screamed when the plane started to slide. With nothing to slow it down, the plane careened into a concrete bunker set into the hillside at the end of the field. The cockpit and first class sections crumpled as if the plane was made of paper.
Alarms started ringing, and pandemonium ensued. The women watched as fire and other rescue trucks sped off in the distance. They cried out and sunk to the floor when a fireball rose into the sky. They wrapped their arms around each other and wept.
Long minutes later, Gail pushed back. “We have to call Ma,” she said softly. “And Richie.”
“Oh God,” Stephanie said. “I don’t want to do that, but you’re right.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“Yeah,” Richie said. “Shit. Gail called Ma, Stephanie called me. Cheryl was calling Krissy and Jen’s other friends. Ma’s on her way to the hospital and promised to let me know when she hears anything, but I’ll feel better if you’re there. You’ll tell me the truth. Ma will try to spare my feelings.”
Jon and Tiffany were on their way down to the garage. “Rich, we are on the way. Talk to me, brother. Talk to me until you get to the airport.”
And he did. Richie told Jon all about the ring he had bought for Jennifer, and pulled the box out of his pocket to look at it again. The ring was a square-cut 2 carat diamond set on a wide platinum band. Ava had gone ring shopping with him and had zeroed in on this one in the third shop they visited. He didn’t know why he brought it with him; it just seemed like the right thing to do. He told his best friend about the hints he’d been dropping to her about wanting to marry her, and the hints back that Jennifer was going to say yes. Richie shared his plans for asking Jennifer to marry him, though Jon already knew from Tiffany. He told Jon about their time with Ava, about Jen’s interview at UCLA on Wednesday, any and every little thing Richie could think of. By the time Richie got to the airport, Jon knew almost as much about Jennifer as he did Tiffany.
“Alright,” Richie said. “I’m at LAX. Thanks man. Thanks for listening.” His voice cracked once but Richie choked the emotion back down. “I’m gonna believe she’s alive,” Richie said, his words accompanied by a sniffle. In his mind, Jon could see Rich squaring his shoulders, forcing himself to go on. “But call me if you hear anything, no matter what it is. Promise me.”
“I swear to you, Rich, I’ll call you if I hear anything at all. Love you man.”
“You too,” Richie said, and closed his phone. He looked at it, and sighed. After paying the driver, he made his way inside the bustling airport. A group of reporters was waiting.
“Richie!” one shouted. “Is it true that Jen’s plane crashed?”
“What happened in Boston, Richie?”
“Why was Jen coming back to LA, Richie? Are you getting married?”
“Did she make it?” another yelled.
He shook his head, and pushed roughly past them, anger clouding his vision. They followed Richie inside and crowded around him while he went to purchase his tickets. Fortunately, there was a seat on a flight to Boston that left within the next hour, but it was coach. Richie didn’t care, as long as he got on the plane.
Richie turned to look at the reporters, his brown eyes having gone black with fury. “Back off,” he said, his voice quiet steel. “My fiancée was on that plane. Show a little compassion, and get out of my fucking way or I’ll break your fucking necks.” He pushed at the closest one, making him almost fall, but he moved out of the way, and the others followed suit. Richie stalked through to security, effectively shutting down their questions.
Two: Disaster
Richie’s phone rang when he was somewhere over Texas.
“Bro, it’s me,” Jon said. “Tiff and I are at the hospital. Jennifer survived the crash.”
Richie turned into the window and let the tears finally track down his cheeks. He was so happy, so full of relief that it didn’t register that Jon was still talking. “What?” Richie said. “Man, I didn’t hear anything after she was still alive.”
Jon’s voice was serious. “Rich, it isn’t good,” he answered. “She was very badly hurt.”
“How hurt?” Richie asked; a buzzing starting at the base of his skull.
Jon hesitated, and the buzz became a roar. Through gritted teeth, Richie repeated, “How hurt, dammit?”
Jon sighed. He did not want to have this conversation, but a promise was a promise. “Rich, man, I’m sorry. The doctors say it’s touch and go. She suffered a lot of internal damage. Both her legs were crushed and had to be amputated, and man,” Jon sighed again. “She got burned in the fire.”
Richie gasped. “Sweet Mother of God. Is she – how bad is – fuck,” he said.
“I don’t know anything other than that right now. Mary Agnes is keeping vigil in her room now.”
“Who the fuck is Mary Agnes?” Richie asked.
Jon was surprised. “Her mother, Rich. Mary Agnes is her mother’s name. Didn’t you know that?”
Richie gave a dry laugh; a single, sad syllable. “Everyone calls her ‘Ma’. Guess it ‘s because those are her initials.” He was quiet for a minute. “Oh God, Jon, what if Jennifer dies before I get there?”
There was nothing Jon could say to that. He stayed on the phone with Richie until he heard the flight attendant tell everyone they were prepping for landing. Forty minutes later, he was meeting Richie in the lobby of Massachusetts General Hospital, enveloping him in a bone crushing hug.
“I’m so fucking sorry, man,” Jon said, his voice thick with emotion. “She’s up in ICU; her friend Krissy is with her now. Let’s go up, man. The rest of her family is up there.”
Richie’s face was blank the whole way up the elevator. When the doors swished open on the ICU floor, the unnatural quiet made his skin crawl. Doctors and nurses should be bustling. There should be sounds of people trying to save lives, not the sound of death.
When they rounded the corner to the family room that Jen’s parents had been given, Richie took a deep breath before pushing the door open. He saw Ma and John, huddled together on a sofa, crying softly. Jennifer’s brother John and his wife were standing in front of the window, staring sightlessly out at the crisp autumn afternoon, arms around each others’ waists. He saw Tiff, Gail, Cheryl, Stephanie, and a few of Jen’s other friends sitting in a corner talking quietly.
“Ma,” Richie croaked, and the room turned to look at him.
Mary Agnes rose from the comfort of her husband’s arms and crossed the room to take Richie’s hands. “Oh Richard, I’m so glad you made it,” she said, then broke down. “My poor baby,” she cried. “Her heart has stopped four times. Each time, it started up again on its own, she opened her eyes, and asked for you,” Ma said. “Go to her.” She hugged Richie close and sniffled back more tears. “We’ve already said our goodbyes.”
Richie went down the hall alone. Jon followed discreetly behind, knowing this was going to be hard for him, and he was going to need someone. As Richie got closer to the room where Jennifer lay, a nurse stopped him.
“I just wanted to explain a couple of procedural things to you,” the nurse said. “Typically, we only allow immediate family in to visit, and even then, only one person for a few minutes at a time. Due to Jennifer’s situation, we are making allowances.”
“You mean because her injuries are so severe?” The words caught in Richie’s throat.
“In a manner of speaking,” the nurse answered. “Jennifer has a DNR on file. Do you know what that is?”
Richie nodded, even as his heart seized in his chest. He knew that this meant that Jennifer didn’t want any heroic measures taken to revive her. The hospital didn’t know about it at the time of her admission, so they had taken care of her legs and what they could internally. Now that they know, however, they would keep her hydrated and give her means to suppress some of the pain, but the rest was up to fate.
Richie thanked the nurse, though he certainly didn’t mean it, and walked to the window that opened into Jen’s room and gasped. He saw Jennifer, or who he assumed was Jennifer, connected to all kinds of tubes, wires, and machines. Her head was bandaged heavily, as was her neck and one shoulder. Her undamaged right arm lay outside the blankets, a blood pressure cuff wound around it. A PulseOx monitor was attached to her forefinger, and he counted three IVs dripping into her. He scanned her form, and saw that the lump under the blankets stopped far short of where it should have. He wept for her.
Wiping his eyes roughly, he tried to put on a brave face, and pushed into the room. Krissy looked up and saw Jennifer’s newest visitor. She stood and gave Richie a hug. “I’m so sorry, Rich,” she said before leaving. Richie crossed to the bed, and sat by Jennifer’s side. Jon watched through the window as Richie took Jennifer’s hand in his and started talking to her.
“Hey baby, I’m here,” Richie said. “You know, if you wanted to stay in Boston, all you had to do was tell me. We would have worked something out.” He tried for a laugh, but it ended as a noise of pure grief. “Oh Jen,” he said. “I’m so sorry.” He put his head down next to Jennifer’s hand and cried.
Long minutes later, the hand Richie was holding started to twitch. Richie sat up. “Jen? Are you in there, baby? Can you hear me?”
Jennifer frowned at the voice, then smiled as she recognized it. She opened her eyes and turned them toward Richie. “Hey, you,” she said, then closed her eyes as a wave of pain washed over her. She took a deep breath then asked, “Aren’t you going to kiss me hello?”
Richie stood and carefully leaned over the bed, pressing his lips to hers. When he pulled back, he locked his eyes onto hers. “I love you,” he said to her, lightly rubbing her brow with a gentle fingertip.
“I love you too,” Jennifer said. She smiled and evil smile. “Guess I don’t have to worry about physical therapy for my knee anymore,” she said.
Richie laughed, the laughter bordering on hysteria. “Jennifer, that’s AWFUL! I can’t believe you said that.” His laughter tapered off to chuckles. “Do you hurt too much?” he asked softly.
Jennifer nodded. “It’s pretty bad, but I have a morphine drip if I need it. Did you get my message?” she asked.
“No, baby, I didn’t,” Richie said, confused.
Jennifer smiled. “I left you a message earlier. I said that whatever you wanted to ask me when I landed in LA, I’d say yes.”
Richie chuckled. “I figured you might,” he said. “In fact...”
“Bro, it’s me,” Jon said. “Tiff and I are at the hospital. Jennifer survived the crash.”
Richie turned into the window and let the tears finally track down his cheeks. He was so happy, so full of relief that it didn’t register that Jon was still talking. “What?” Richie said. “Man, I didn’t hear anything after she was still alive.”
Jon’s voice was serious. “Rich, it isn’t good,” he answered. “She was very badly hurt.”
“How hurt?” Richie asked; a buzzing starting at the base of his skull.
Jon hesitated, and the buzz became a roar. Through gritted teeth, Richie repeated, “How hurt, dammit?”
Jon sighed. He did not want to have this conversation, but a promise was a promise. “Rich, man, I’m sorry. The doctors say it’s touch and go. She suffered a lot of internal damage. Both her legs were crushed and had to be amputated, and man,” Jon sighed again. “She got burned in the fire.”
Richie gasped. “Sweet Mother of God. Is she – how bad is – fuck,” he said.
“I don’t know anything other than that right now. Mary Agnes is keeping vigil in her room now.”
“Who the fuck is Mary Agnes?” Richie asked.
Jon was surprised. “Her mother, Rich. Mary Agnes is her mother’s name. Didn’t you know that?”
Richie gave a dry laugh; a single, sad syllable. “Everyone calls her ‘Ma’. Guess it ‘s because those are her initials.” He was quiet for a minute. “Oh God, Jon, what if Jennifer dies before I get there?”
There was nothing Jon could say to that. He stayed on the phone with Richie until he heard the flight attendant tell everyone they were prepping for landing. Forty minutes later, he was meeting Richie in the lobby of Massachusetts General Hospital, enveloping him in a bone crushing hug.
“I’m so fucking sorry, man,” Jon said, his voice thick with emotion. “She’s up in ICU; her friend Krissy is with her now. Let’s go up, man. The rest of her family is up there.”
Richie’s face was blank the whole way up the elevator. When the doors swished open on the ICU floor, the unnatural quiet made his skin crawl. Doctors and nurses should be bustling. There should be sounds of people trying to save lives, not the sound of death.
When they rounded the corner to the family room that Jen’s parents had been given, Richie took a deep breath before pushing the door open. He saw Ma and John, huddled together on a sofa, crying softly. Jennifer’s brother John and his wife were standing in front of the window, staring sightlessly out at the crisp autumn afternoon, arms around each others’ waists. He saw Tiff, Gail, Cheryl, Stephanie, and a few of Jen’s other friends sitting in a corner talking quietly.
“Ma,” Richie croaked, and the room turned to look at him.
Mary Agnes rose from the comfort of her husband’s arms and crossed the room to take Richie’s hands. “Oh Richard, I’m so glad you made it,” she said, then broke down. “My poor baby,” she cried. “Her heart has stopped four times. Each time, it started up again on its own, she opened her eyes, and asked for you,” Ma said. “Go to her.” She hugged Richie close and sniffled back more tears. “We’ve already said our goodbyes.”
Richie went down the hall alone. Jon followed discreetly behind, knowing this was going to be hard for him, and he was going to need someone. As Richie got closer to the room where Jennifer lay, a nurse stopped him.
“I just wanted to explain a couple of procedural things to you,” the nurse said. “Typically, we only allow immediate family in to visit, and even then, only one person for a few minutes at a time. Due to Jennifer’s situation, we are making allowances.”
“You mean because her injuries are so severe?” The words caught in Richie’s throat.
“In a manner of speaking,” the nurse answered. “Jennifer has a DNR on file. Do you know what that is?”
Richie nodded, even as his heart seized in his chest. He knew that this meant that Jennifer didn’t want any heroic measures taken to revive her. The hospital didn’t know about it at the time of her admission, so they had taken care of her legs and what they could internally. Now that they know, however, they would keep her hydrated and give her means to suppress some of the pain, but the rest was up to fate.
Richie thanked the nurse, though he certainly didn’t mean it, and walked to the window that opened into Jen’s room and gasped. He saw Jennifer, or who he assumed was Jennifer, connected to all kinds of tubes, wires, and machines. Her head was bandaged heavily, as was her neck and one shoulder. Her undamaged right arm lay outside the blankets, a blood pressure cuff wound around it. A PulseOx monitor was attached to her forefinger, and he counted three IVs dripping into her. He scanned her form, and saw that the lump under the blankets stopped far short of where it should have. He wept for her.
Wiping his eyes roughly, he tried to put on a brave face, and pushed into the room. Krissy looked up and saw Jennifer’s newest visitor. She stood and gave Richie a hug. “I’m so sorry, Rich,” she said before leaving. Richie crossed to the bed, and sat by Jennifer’s side. Jon watched through the window as Richie took Jennifer’s hand in his and started talking to her.
“Hey baby, I’m here,” Richie said. “You know, if you wanted to stay in Boston, all you had to do was tell me. We would have worked something out.” He tried for a laugh, but it ended as a noise of pure grief. “Oh Jen,” he said. “I’m so sorry.” He put his head down next to Jennifer’s hand and cried.
Long minutes later, the hand Richie was holding started to twitch. Richie sat up. “Jen? Are you in there, baby? Can you hear me?”
Jennifer frowned at the voice, then smiled as she recognized it. She opened her eyes and turned them toward Richie. “Hey, you,” she said, then closed her eyes as a wave of pain washed over her. She took a deep breath then asked, “Aren’t you going to kiss me hello?”
Richie stood and carefully leaned over the bed, pressing his lips to hers. When he pulled back, he locked his eyes onto hers. “I love you,” he said to her, lightly rubbing her brow with a gentle fingertip.
“I love you too,” Jennifer said. She smiled and evil smile. “Guess I don’t have to worry about physical therapy for my knee anymore,” she said.
Richie laughed, the laughter bordering on hysteria. “Jennifer, that’s AWFUL! I can’t believe you said that.” His laughter tapered off to chuckles. “Do you hurt too much?” he asked softly.
Jennifer nodded. “It’s pretty bad, but I have a morphine drip if I need it. Did you get my message?” she asked.
“No, baby, I didn’t,” Richie said, confused.
Jennifer smiled. “I left you a message earlier. I said that whatever you wanted to ask me when I landed in LA, I’d say yes.”
Richie chuckled. “I figured you might,” he said. “In fact...”
Three: Kidnap an Angel
Richie straightened and took a box out of his pocket. He knelt by Jen’s bedside, and cracked open the box.
Jennifer’s eyes moved to see the ring. “Oh, Rich...” she said.
“Jennifer,” Richie said, his voice cracking, and unshed tears pooling in his eyes. “I love you more than I thought it was possible to love another person other than my daughter. I want us to share our lives together, however long or short that may be. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Jon watched from the window as Richie proposed to Jen. Though he couldn’t hear his words, he could see the mixture of joy and pain on Jennifer’s face. Then he saw her nod and watched as Richie slipped the ring on Jennifer’s right hand. Richie stood and kissed her again, and Jennifer shakily raised her hand to cup the back of Richie’s head and deepen the kiss. Jon felt Tiffany come up behind him and put her arms around his waist.
“Dammit, Tiff,” he said, as his wife pressed into his back. “Rich just proposed to her.” He turned to hug his wife fiercely. They looked in on their friends a few more minutes, arms wrapped around each other. “I have an idea,” Jon said.
He took Tiffany’s hand and headed to the nurse’s station. “Excuse me,” Jon asked the nurse. “I’m sorry to bother you, but could you call the Chaplain for us? We want to talk to him about Jennifer Petruzzo.”
The nurse was sympathetic, having heard the woman’s whole story from Krissy. “Of course,” she said, and placed the call. Several minutes later, an older man, very tall and very thin with gray hair and wire-rimmed glasses approached them. He was wearing the garb of a traditional Catholic priest, and held a small, leather-bound Bible in his left hand.
“Good afternoon,” he said quietly as he approached the nurse’s station. “I’m Father Michael,” he said, “the chaplain this week. Someone asked for me?”
Jon got the priest’s attention. “Father, the woman in there,” he indicated the ICU room, “is dying. My best friend in the whole world wants nothing more than to marry her, and I was hoping you could make that happen for them.”
Father Michael frowned. “Do they have a marriage license?”
Jon shook his head. “Father, they don’t care that this wouldn’t be legal in the state. They just want to be married to each other, for as long as is possible. It would give them both comfort.”
The priest nodded. “I can do that for them.”
He opened the door to the room and walked softly to the bed. “I hear congratulations are in order,” the priest said with a sad smile.
“Hello, Father,” Jennifer said, returning his smile.
Richie stood. “Father,” he said, shaking the clergyman’s hand.
“Somebody told me,” the priest began, “that you two want to get married.”
Richie looked to the window and saw Jon looking in. He mouthed ‘thank you’ and turned back to the priest. “More than almost anything else in this world,” Richie said.
“And you?” he asked Jennifer.
She nodded. “Can you get my parents?” she said to the priest.
He went to the door and asked Jon to go get the Petruzzos. The nursing staff had been wonderful in bending the rules for Jennifer’s family. They knew she had a “no heroic efforts” waiver on file, and if it gave the woman comfort to have her friends and family around her, then the nurses were inclined to let it happen.
The door opened a few minutes later, and Jennifer’s family and her friends filed into the room formed a circle around the bed.
The priest said a few words of welcome, asked Richie and Jennifer to join hands. He had them exchange simple vows, and there wasn’t a single dry eye in the room. Even the nurses were crying. “Do you have rings?” the priest asked. When Richie shook his head, Jennifer’s parents took their rings off and gave them to the priest.
“Use these,” John said, his voice barely a whisper.
The priest blessed the rings, and watched as each slipped a platinum band on the hand of the other. He then pronounced them husband and wife in the eyes of God, and told Richie he could kiss the bride. When Richie leaned over and did just that, the beeping of Jennifer’s heart monitor slowed.
“Jen?” Richie asked, his eyes wide with panic.
“Baby, I’m sorry, I’m just so tired, I want to go to sleep,” Jennifer said. “But I’m so happy to be your wife, and I don’t want to miss a minute of it.”
“I know you’re tired, Mrs. Sambora,” Richie said, cupping her face, and kissing her so tenderly, that everyone in the room had to look away. “And I’m so glad to be your husband.” His heart was breaking, but Richie knew what he had to do. “If you need to sleep, then sleep. It’s alright. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Jennifer said, raising her hand to cup Richie’s face. Her voice was getting very soft. “Sing me to sleep?” she asked. Richie took Jennifer’s hand and pressed a kiss to the palm. He held her hand between his and nodded.
Jennifer’s mother sobbed and turned her face into her husband’s shoulder. Jon and Tiff and John and Sue had their arms wrapped around each other and were crying openly. Jennifer’s friends were all standing clustered together, holding on to whatever hands they could reach.
Richie cleared his throat and began to sing, his eyes locked on those of his new wife.
When I think back on these times and the dreams we left behind
I'll be glad ‘cause I was blessed to get to have you in my life
When I look back on these days I'll look and see your face
You were right there for me
In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky
In my heart there'll always be a place for you for all my life
I'll keep a part of you with me
And everywhere I am there you'll be
Well you showed me how it feels to feel the sky within my reach
And I always will remember all the strength you gave to me
Your love made me make it through ooh I owe so much to you
You were right there for me
In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky
In my heart there'll always be a place for you for all my life
I'll keep a part of you with me
And everywhere I am there you'll be
Cause I always saw in you my light my strength
And I want to thank you now for all the ways
You were right there for me
In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky
In my heart there'll always be a place for you for all my life
I'll keep a part of you with me
And everywhere I am there you'll be
There you'll be
When he was done, he smiled at Jennifer. She was smiling back. “That was so beautiful, Rich,” she said. “Can you sing me one more? Can you sing me one of yours?” She squeezed Richie’s hand, and the lack of strength in her grip almost made his knees buckle.
“I can’t deny you anything, my love,” Richie said, his eyes shining with love. He kissed Jennifer long and tenderly, and smiled at her. He sat gently on the bed next to her, and pressed his forehead to hers. He cleared his throat, and started another song; one he knew was one of Jennifer’s favorites of his.
It's hard to remember a time
When I didn't have you
When I didn't have nothing but
A cold bed to come to at night
That was all I knew, until there was you
And then you took my world and turned it all around
I couldn't live without you now
Baby, if I can't have your love
If I can't feel your touch I got nothing
Baby, if I can't taste your kiss then I don't exist
I got nothing
No I can't imagine living life without you
I can't imagine living life without your love
Jennifer let out a sigh, closed her eyes, and relaxed, a smile twitching around her mouth. Richie straightened when the beeping of the monitor slowed even more. Ma started her rosary.
I wake up with you by my side
Can't let go,
I can't even bear the thought
Of you in another man's eyes
I would lose control, I would die
'Cause now you're in my heart and I can't let you out
I gotta keep you here somehow
Baby, if I can't have your love
If I can't feel your touch I got nothing
Baby, if I can't taste your kiss then I don't exist
I got nothing
If I can't be your man, I wouldn't know who I am
I got nothing
I got nothing
No, I can't imagine living life without you
I can't imagine living life without your love
'Cause I can't imagine living life without you
Can't imagine living life without your love
Believe me baby I don't mean to doubt you
But if you ever leave, that would be the end of me, baby
Jennifer murmured softly, but with perfect clarity, “I’m sorry, baby; I’m just so tired. I love you.” Richie gripped her hand harder, but she had no more strength in her grip than a newborn. The last chorus Richie sang was shaky and horrendously off-key, but nobody noticed.
Baby, if I can't feel your touch I got nothing
Baby, if I can't taste your kiss then I don't exist
I got nothing
I got nothing
If I can't be your man, I wouldn't know who I am
I'd be nothing
Baby, if I can't have your love
If I can't feel your touch
I got nothing
The monitor let out a long low beep, and Jen’s hand went completely limp in Richie’s. He sobbed openly, whispering the last lines as he trailed a hand down the side of Jennifer’s face.
I can't imagine living life without you
I can't imagine living life without your love
A nurse crossed the room and pressed a button on the monitor, and the room was silent.
Jennifer’s eyes moved to see the ring. “Oh, Rich...” she said.
“Jennifer,” Richie said, his voice cracking, and unshed tears pooling in his eyes. “I love you more than I thought it was possible to love another person other than my daughter. I want us to share our lives together, however long or short that may be. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Jon watched from the window as Richie proposed to Jen. Though he couldn’t hear his words, he could see the mixture of joy and pain on Jennifer’s face. Then he saw her nod and watched as Richie slipped the ring on Jennifer’s right hand. Richie stood and kissed her again, and Jennifer shakily raised her hand to cup the back of Richie’s head and deepen the kiss. Jon felt Tiffany come up behind him and put her arms around his waist.
“Dammit, Tiff,” he said, as his wife pressed into his back. “Rich just proposed to her.” He turned to hug his wife fiercely. They looked in on their friends a few more minutes, arms wrapped around each other. “I have an idea,” Jon said.
He took Tiffany’s hand and headed to the nurse’s station. “Excuse me,” Jon asked the nurse. “I’m sorry to bother you, but could you call the Chaplain for us? We want to talk to him about Jennifer Petruzzo.”
The nurse was sympathetic, having heard the woman’s whole story from Krissy. “Of course,” she said, and placed the call. Several minutes later, an older man, very tall and very thin with gray hair and wire-rimmed glasses approached them. He was wearing the garb of a traditional Catholic priest, and held a small, leather-bound Bible in his left hand.
“Good afternoon,” he said quietly as he approached the nurse’s station. “I’m Father Michael,” he said, “the chaplain this week. Someone asked for me?”
Jon got the priest’s attention. “Father, the woman in there,” he indicated the ICU room, “is dying. My best friend in the whole world wants nothing more than to marry her, and I was hoping you could make that happen for them.”
Father Michael frowned. “Do they have a marriage license?”
Jon shook his head. “Father, they don’t care that this wouldn’t be legal in the state. They just want to be married to each other, for as long as is possible. It would give them both comfort.”
The priest nodded. “I can do that for them.”
He opened the door to the room and walked softly to the bed. “I hear congratulations are in order,” the priest said with a sad smile.
“Hello, Father,” Jennifer said, returning his smile.
Richie stood. “Father,” he said, shaking the clergyman’s hand.
“Somebody told me,” the priest began, “that you two want to get married.”
Richie looked to the window and saw Jon looking in. He mouthed ‘thank you’ and turned back to the priest. “More than almost anything else in this world,” Richie said.
“And you?” he asked Jennifer.
She nodded. “Can you get my parents?” she said to the priest.
He went to the door and asked Jon to go get the Petruzzos. The nursing staff had been wonderful in bending the rules for Jennifer’s family. They knew she had a “no heroic efforts” waiver on file, and if it gave the woman comfort to have her friends and family around her, then the nurses were inclined to let it happen.
The door opened a few minutes later, and Jennifer’s family and her friends filed into the room formed a circle around the bed.
The priest said a few words of welcome, asked Richie and Jennifer to join hands. He had them exchange simple vows, and there wasn’t a single dry eye in the room. Even the nurses were crying. “Do you have rings?” the priest asked. When Richie shook his head, Jennifer’s parents took their rings off and gave them to the priest.
“Use these,” John said, his voice barely a whisper.
The priest blessed the rings, and watched as each slipped a platinum band on the hand of the other. He then pronounced them husband and wife in the eyes of God, and told Richie he could kiss the bride. When Richie leaned over and did just that, the beeping of Jennifer’s heart monitor slowed.
“Jen?” Richie asked, his eyes wide with panic.
“Baby, I’m sorry, I’m just so tired, I want to go to sleep,” Jennifer said. “But I’m so happy to be your wife, and I don’t want to miss a minute of it.”
“I know you’re tired, Mrs. Sambora,” Richie said, cupping her face, and kissing her so tenderly, that everyone in the room had to look away. “And I’m so glad to be your husband.” His heart was breaking, but Richie knew what he had to do. “If you need to sleep, then sleep. It’s alright. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Jennifer said, raising her hand to cup Richie’s face. Her voice was getting very soft. “Sing me to sleep?” she asked. Richie took Jennifer’s hand and pressed a kiss to the palm. He held her hand between his and nodded.
Jennifer’s mother sobbed and turned her face into her husband’s shoulder. Jon and Tiff and John and Sue had their arms wrapped around each other and were crying openly. Jennifer’s friends were all standing clustered together, holding on to whatever hands they could reach.
Richie cleared his throat and began to sing, his eyes locked on those of his new wife.
When I think back on these times and the dreams we left behind
I'll be glad ‘cause I was blessed to get to have you in my life
When I look back on these days I'll look and see your face
You were right there for me
In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky
In my heart there'll always be a place for you for all my life
I'll keep a part of you with me
And everywhere I am there you'll be
Well you showed me how it feels to feel the sky within my reach
And I always will remember all the strength you gave to me
Your love made me make it through ooh I owe so much to you
You were right there for me
In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky
In my heart there'll always be a place for you for all my life
I'll keep a part of you with me
And everywhere I am there you'll be
Cause I always saw in you my light my strength
And I want to thank you now for all the ways
You were right there for me
In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky
In my heart there'll always be a place for you for all my life
I'll keep a part of you with me
And everywhere I am there you'll be
There you'll be
When he was done, he smiled at Jennifer. She was smiling back. “That was so beautiful, Rich,” she said. “Can you sing me one more? Can you sing me one of yours?” She squeezed Richie’s hand, and the lack of strength in her grip almost made his knees buckle.
“I can’t deny you anything, my love,” Richie said, his eyes shining with love. He kissed Jennifer long and tenderly, and smiled at her. He sat gently on the bed next to her, and pressed his forehead to hers. He cleared his throat, and started another song; one he knew was one of Jennifer’s favorites of his.
It's hard to remember a time
When I didn't have you
When I didn't have nothing but
A cold bed to come to at night
That was all I knew, until there was you
And then you took my world and turned it all around
I couldn't live without you now
Baby, if I can't have your love
If I can't feel your touch I got nothing
Baby, if I can't taste your kiss then I don't exist
I got nothing
No I can't imagine living life without you
I can't imagine living life without your love
Jennifer let out a sigh, closed her eyes, and relaxed, a smile twitching around her mouth. Richie straightened when the beeping of the monitor slowed even more. Ma started her rosary.
I wake up with you by my side
Can't let go,
I can't even bear the thought
Of you in another man's eyes
I would lose control, I would die
'Cause now you're in my heart and I can't let you out
I gotta keep you here somehow
Baby, if I can't have your love
If I can't feel your touch I got nothing
Baby, if I can't taste your kiss then I don't exist
I got nothing
If I can't be your man, I wouldn't know who I am
I got nothing
I got nothing
No, I can't imagine living life without you
I can't imagine living life without your love
'Cause I can't imagine living life without you
Can't imagine living life without your love
Believe me baby I don't mean to doubt you
But if you ever leave, that would be the end of me, baby
Jennifer murmured softly, but with perfect clarity, “I’m sorry, baby; I’m just so tired. I love you.” Richie gripped her hand harder, but she had no more strength in her grip than a newborn. The last chorus Richie sang was shaky and horrendously off-key, but nobody noticed.
Baby, if I can't feel your touch I got nothing
Baby, if I can't taste your kiss then I don't exist
I got nothing
I got nothing
If I can't be your man, I wouldn't know who I am
I'd be nothing
Baby, if I can't have your love
If I can't feel your touch
I got nothing
The monitor let out a long low beep, and Jen’s hand went completely limp in Richie’s. He sobbed openly, whispering the last lines as he trailed a hand down the side of Jennifer’s face.
I can't imagine living life without you
I can't imagine living life without your love
A nurse crossed the room and pressed a button on the monitor, and the room was silent.
Four: Wedding Day
Richie smiled. He was tucked in behind Jennifer, holding her close to him, and breathing in her scent. She was so soft, he felt as if he could lose himself in her. Slowly, so as not to wake her, he brought a hand up to her breast. Or where her breast should be. Frowning, he half-opened his eyes. For a moment, he saw her honeyed-blond hair spread out on the pillow, and could just see the tat on the back of her neck. Reassured he leaned in to kiss her ink only to end up with a mouth full of pillow.
Screaming in rage, frustration, and grief, Richie flung the pillow from him.
The scream woke Tiffany, who, with Jon, had only fallen asleep a couple hours before. They were all staying at Jennifer's house for the time being, and Tiff and Jon had the room next to Richie. The guitarist had locked himself in Jen’s room when they got back from the hospital, wouldn’t talk to anyone, and refused to come out. Stephanie tried for hours to get Richie to talk to her through the door, but other than a few grunts, didn’t get any response.
Tiffany looked at her husband, who was undisturbed by the cry, then slipped from their bed. She wrapped her robe around herself, and padded next door. Trying the knob, Tiff was surprised to find it unlocked. She slowly opened the door and nearly cried herself at what she saw.
There were clothes and shoes scattered all over the room. The bed was practically hidden under sweaters, sweatshirts, and heavy coats. There was a man-sized hole in the mound but no man.
Richie was kneeling on the floor, cradling a pillow as delicately and tenderly as if it was an infant. He was sobbing and rocking and whispering “I’m sorry” over and over again.
Swallowing a lump of tears, Tiffany tentatively entered the room. “Rich?” she asked quietly.
Richie looked up at his best friend’s wife; his sister-in-law. “Sorry I woke you,” he said. “But she was there. I felt her. Then I opened my eyes, and it wasn’t her, it was just her pillow. But it still smells like her, and I threw it away...” He was rambling and crying, and Tiffany quickly crossed to him and dropped to the floor beside him. She gathered him to her, pillow and all. He stiffened at this woman’s arms around him, this woman who wasn’t his Jen, but she didn’t relent. She held him and rubbed comforting circles between his shoulder blades until he started to relax a little.
“You don’t have to apologize, Rich,” Tiffany said. “I know.” She looked up and saw Jon in the doorway. She smiled a watery smile at him, and nodded a little. Jon shut the door and went back to his room.
Tiffany just held Richie for a while, letting him cry when he wanted to, rail against fate when he needed to, but drew the line at letting him take any blame for what happened.
“I should have come to her,” Richie said. “I shouldn’t have asked her to pack up her life and come to me. She should have never been on that plane. She hates to fly; how could I let her do that?”
Tiffany squeezed Richie tightly, then gave him a little shake. “Stop that right now,” she said angrily. “It is not your fault that there was something wrong with the plane. She wanted nothing more than to come to you and start a new life with you.”
“But I was so selfish...”
“Rich, I swear, if you make me hit you today, I’ll never forgive you.” She pushed Richie away from her a little so she could look at his face. “She didn’t think of you as selfish. She knew you have Ava to consider, and she never would have let you move so far away from your daughter.” She gave Richie another shake. “So stop that right now. Miss her. Cry for her. But do NOT make this about you. You are not the reason she is gone. It was just her time.”
Richie pushed Tiffany roughly away from him and stood up. “Shut up. Don’t you fucking say that. It was NOT her time.” He yanked the pillow up off the floor and held it to his chest. “Her time would have been after another forty or fifty years together, a passel of kids and grand kids, and a lifetime of me loving her.” He stalked to the door and opened it. “You need to go now,” he said, coldly.
Tiffany stood up and stood firm. “No,” she said, crossing her hands over her chest. “You need to get this out, and I’m just as good as anyone to get it out at. You know something? You’re right, it wasn’t her time. It was way too fucking soon for her to be gone. You think you were the only one who loved her?” She dashed tears from her eyes. “We all did. Maybe not as much as you, but we all did.”
“It’s not the same.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s way worse for her parents, who have to bury their only daughter this week. It’s way worse for her brother, who was always her protector, to not have been able to protect her from this. It’s way worse for Krissy and her other friends, who she’s known practically her whole life.” Tiffany sniffled and wiped her eyes again. “So, yeah, it’s worse for you than it is for me, but there are others for whom it is far worse.”
Richie’s shoulders slumped, and he closed the door and dropped to the floor. “God, I’m sorry, T.”
“Don’t apologize, Rich. You’re hurting and lashing out.” She went to sit next to him, and took his hand. “I went through this same thing. Gail did too. Hell, your mother went through this. You have people you can talk to, when you’re ready to talk, who understand about loss and grief and grieving.” She smiled. “And all of us will talk to you about Hath any time. She was a hot shit.”
Richie chuckled at the nickname. “Yeah, she sure was.” He hugged Tiffany close. “Thanks, T. You’re a good friend. Jon is lucky to have you.”
“Yeah, he is,” Tiffany agreed. “Are you going to be alright here alone if I go get dressed?”
Richie nodded. “I’ll be alright. Jen’s parents are coming soon so we can go make her arrangements,” he choked on the last word. “God, this is so hard.”
“It is, Rich, but you’ll get through it. Just let us be there for you. Let us love you and hug you and tell you everything will be alright, even though you want to hit something every time someone says that.” She smiled and smoothed Richie’s hair like she would to comfort a small child.
“I can’t yet. I will, but I can’t. I see her every time I see one of you. It’s not fair, but there it is. I know that you are all in my life because of her – well not YOU, T, but the others, and I can’t separate them.”
“And they understand that,” Tiffany said. “I swear to you, they understand. Don’t you think they feel the same thing? They’re all friends because of the board, but they al have shared memories with Jennifer. They’re taking comfort in that. Sure we’re all crying our eyes out, and our hearts are broken, but we’re sharing the pain, and that makes it a little easier to take.” She kissed Richie’s cheek. “When you’re ready, we will share your pain, too.”
Tiffany stood up and opened the door to find Stephanie poised to knock. “Sorry, but Ma and John are here,” she said. “Ava, Heather, and Joan stopped by before going to their hotel. How is he doing?”
“He’s broken,” Richie said coming up to stand behind Tiffany. “Tell Ma I’ll be down in a few minutes; I need to take a shower.” He reached out and touched Stephanie’s arm. “Thank you for last night.”
“Anytime,” Stephanie said with a sad smile. “I’ll go tell them you’ll be down in a little bit.”
Richie nodded and crossed the room, grabbing a pair of jeans and one of Jennifer’s sweatshirts on the way. He disappeared into the bathroom. A few minutes later, the women heard the water start.
“If he’s not out in fifteen minutes,” Stephanie said, “you should send Jon in after him.”
Tiffany nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.” She and Stephanie looked around Jennifer’s room, which was devoid of personal touches and photos. “You know, I’m glad you guys packed everything up.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Stephanie said. “This would have been worse if there were pictures of Jen or her personal little things all over the place.” She shivered. “In a way, though, this is like a stranger’s house.” She crossed to the bed and picked up a sweater, getting a whiff of perfume that was essentially Jen. “I don’t know what’s better. Hey, so Krissy called.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. The restaurant is closed on Mondays and Tuesdays, and she wants to host the remembrance after the wake – I assume there’s a wake – both nights.”
“That’s nice,” Tiffany said. “I don’t think Rich was looking forward to having a houseful of people to have to be there for. This way he can slip away if it gets to be too much for him.”
Tears came to Stephanie’s eyes. “I still can’t believe she’s really gone.”
“I know,” Tiffany said, her own eyes misting over. “Me neither.”
The two women shared a long hug, and left the room. In the shower, Richie sat slumped on the floor, holding a bottle of Jennifer’s shampoo, and sobbing. That’s how Jon found him ten minutes later. Jon shut the water, tossed a towel in at his friend, and waited. Richie stood and let Jon lead him out into the bedroom. Jon talked to Richie about nothing in particular as he dried and got dressed.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Jon asked.
Richie shook his head. “No, man.” He swiped at his eyes again with the towel. “This is something I have to do with Jen’s parents.” He finished getting dressed, and sat on the bed among Jennifer’s clothes. He lovingly caressed one of her sweaters, a favorite angora, and the softness burned his palm. Sighing, he stood. He fingered the platinum band on his ring finger, and looked his friend in the eyes. “Thank you,” he said.
Jon needed no further words; he knew Richie was thanking him for. “You’re welcome,” Jon said simply. “Now,” he said, slapping Richie on the back, and gently steering him toward the door. “Let’s get your ugly ass downstairs. Mary Agnes does not need to see you in here laying in Jen’s clothes like a pervert.” His chuckle didn’t quite come off right, and the accompanying smile did not light his eyes, but Richie appreciated the effort.
“Yeah,” he said, casting a longing look over his shoulder at Jen’s bed. “Let’s go.”
Screaming in rage, frustration, and grief, Richie flung the pillow from him.
The scream woke Tiffany, who, with Jon, had only fallen asleep a couple hours before. They were all staying at Jennifer's house for the time being, and Tiff and Jon had the room next to Richie. The guitarist had locked himself in Jen’s room when they got back from the hospital, wouldn’t talk to anyone, and refused to come out. Stephanie tried for hours to get Richie to talk to her through the door, but other than a few grunts, didn’t get any response.
Tiffany looked at her husband, who was undisturbed by the cry, then slipped from their bed. She wrapped her robe around herself, and padded next door. Trying the knob, Tiff was surprised to find it unlocked. She slowly opened the door and nearly cried herself at what she saw.
There were clothes and shoes scattered all over the room. The bed was practically hidden under sweaters, sweatshirts, and heavy coats. There was a man-sized hole in the mound but no man.
Richie was kneeling on the floor, cradling a pillow as delicately and tenderly as if it was an infant. He was sobbing and rocking and whispering “I’m sorry” over and over again.
Swallowing a lump of tears, Tiffany tentatively entered the room. “Rich?” she asked quietly.
Richie looked up at his best friend’s wife; his sister-in-law. “Sorry I woke you,” he said. “But she was there. I felt her. Then I opened my eyes, and it wasn’t her, it was just her pillow. But it still smells like her, and I threw it away...” He was rambling and crying, and Tiffany quickly crossed to him and dropped to the floor beside him. She gathered him to her, pillow and all. He stiffened at this woman’s arms around him, this woman who wasn’t his Jen, but she didn’t relent. She held him and rubbed comforting circles between his shoulder blades until he started to relax a little.
“You don’t have to apologize, Rich,” Tiffany said. “I know.” She looked up and saw Jon in the doorway. She smiled a watery smile at him, and nodded a little. Jon shut the door and went back to his room.
Tiffany just held Richie for a while, letting him cry when he wanted to, rail against fate when he needed to, but drew the line at letting him take any blame for what happened.
“I should have come to her,” Richie said. “I shouldn’t have asked her to pack up her life and come to me. She should have never been on that plane. She hates to fly; how could I let her do that?”
Tiffany squeezed Richie tightly, then gave him a little shake. “Stop that right now,” she said angrily. “It is not your fault that there was something wrong with the plane. She wanted nothing more than to come to you and start a new life with you.”
“But I was so selfish...”
“Rich, I swear, if you make me hit you today, I’ll never forgive you.” She pushed Richie away from her a little so she could look at his face. “She didn’t think of you as selfish. She knew you have Ava to consider, and she never would have let you move so far away from your daughter.” She gave Richie another shake. “So stop that right now. Miss her. Cry for her. But do NOT make this about you. You are not the reason she is gone. It was just her time.”
Richie pushed Tiffany roughly away from him and stood up. “Shut up. Don’t you fucking say that. It was NOT her time.” He yanked the pillow up off the floor and held it to his chest. “Her time would have been after another forty or fifty years together, a passel of kids and grand kids, and a lifetime of me loving her.” He stalked to the door and opened it. “You need to go now,” he said, coldly.
Tiffany stood up and stood firm. “No,” she said, crossing her hands over her chest. “You need to get this out, and I’m just as good as anyone to get it out at. You know something? You’re right, it wasn’t her time. It was way too fucking soon for her to be gone. You think you were the only one who loved her?” She dashed tears from her eyes. “We all did. Maybe not as much as you, but we all did.”
“It’s not the same.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s way worse for her parents, who have to bury their only daughter this week. It’s way worse for her brother, who was always her protector, to not have been able to protect her from this. It’s way worse for Krissy and her other friends, who she’s known practically her whole life.” Tiffany sniffled and wiped her eyes again. “So, yeah, it’s worse for you than it is for me, but there are others for whom it is far worse.”
Richie’s shoulders slumped, and he closed the door and dropped to the floor. “God, I’m sorry, T.”
“Don’t apologize, Rich. You’re hurting and lashing out.” She went to sit next to him, and took his hand. “I went through this same thing. Gail did too. Hell, your mother went through this. You have people you can talk to, when you’re ready to talk, who understand about loss and grief and grieving.” She smiled. “And all of us will talk to you about Hath any time. She was a hot shit.”
Richie chuckled at the nickname. “Yeah, she sure was.” He hugged Tiffany close. “Thanks, T. You’re a good friend. Jon is lucky to have you.”
“Yeah, he is,” Tiffany agreed. “Are you going to be alright here alone if I go get dressed?”
Richie nodded. “I’ll be alright. Jen’s parents are coming soon so we can go make her arrangements,” he choked on the last word. “God, this is so hard.”
“It is, Rich, but you’ll get through it. Just let us be there for you. Let us love you and hug you and tell you everything will be alright, even though you want to hit something every time someone says that.” She smiled and smoothed Richie’s hair like she would to comfort a small child.
“I can’t yet. I will, but I can’t. I see her every time I see one of you. It’s not fair, but there it is. I know that you are all in my life because of her – well not YOU, T, but the others, and I can’t separate them.”
“And they understand that,” Tiffany said. “I swear to you, they understand. Don’t you think they feel the same thing? They’re all friends because of the board, but they al have shared memories with Jennifer. They’re taking comfort in that. Sure we’re all crying our eyes out, and our hearts are broken, but we’re sharing the pain, and that makes it a little easier to take.” She kissed Richie’s cheek. “When you’re ready, we will share your pain, too.”
Tiffany stood up and opened the door to find Stephanie poised to knock. “Sorry, but Ma and John are here,” she said. “Ava, Heather, and Joan stopped by before going to their hotel. How is he doing?”
“He’s broken,” Richie said coming up to stand behind Tiffany. “Tell Ma I’ll be down in a few minutes; I need to take a shower.” He reached out and touched Stephanie’s arm. “Thank you for last night.”
“Anytime,” Stephanie said with a sad smile. “I’ll go tell them you’ll be down in a little bit.”
Richie nodded and crossed the room, grabbing a pair of jeans and one of Jennifer’s sweatshirts on the way. He disappeared into the bathroom. A few minutes later, the women heard the water start.
“If he’s not out in fifteen minutes,” Stephanie said, “you should send Jon in after him.”
Tiffany nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.” She and Stephanie looked around Jennifer’s room, which was devoid of personal touches and photos. “You know, I’m glad you guys packed everything up.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Stephanie said. “This would have been worse if there were pictures of Jen or her personal little things all over the place.” She shivered. “In a way, though, this is like a stranger’s house.” She crossed to the bed and picked up a sweater, getting a whiff of perfume that was essentially Jen. “I don’t know what’s better. Hey, so Krissy called.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. The restaurant is closed on Mondays and Tuesdays, and she wants to host the remembrance after the wake – I assume there’s a wake – both nights.”
“That’s nice,” Tiffany said. “I don’t think Rich was looking forward to having a houseful of people to have to be there for. This way he can slip away if it gets to be too much for him.”
Tears came to Stephanie’s eyes. “I still can’t believe she’s really gone.”
“I know,” Tiffany said, her own eyes misting over. “Me neither.”
The two women shared a long hug, and left the room. In the shower, Richie sat slumped on the floor, holding a bottle of Jennifer’s shampoo, and sobbing. That’s how Jon found him ten minutes later. Jon shut the water, tossed a towel in at his friend, and waited. Richie stood and let Jon lead him out into the bedroom. Jon talked to Richie about nothing in particular as he dried and got dressed.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Jon asked.
Richie shook his head. “No, man.” He swiped at his eyes again with the towel. “This is something I have to do with Jen’s parents.” He finished getting dressed, and sat on the bed among Jennifer’s clothes. He lovingly caressed one of her sweaters, a favorite angora, and the softness burned his palm. Sighing, he stood. He fingered the platinum band on his ring finger, and looked his friend in the eyes. “Thank you,” he said.
Jon needed no further words; he knew Richie was thanking him for. “You’re welcome,” Jon said simply. “Now,” he said, slapping Richie on the back, and gently steering him toward the door. “Let’s get your ugly ass downstairs. Mary Agnes does not need to see you in here laying in Jen’s clothes like a pervert.” His chuckle didn’t quite come off right, and the accompanying smile did not light his eyes, but Richie appreciated the effort.
“Yeah,” he said, casting a longing look over his shoulder at Jen’s bed. “Let’s go.”
Five: Cruel Fate
Jennifer was waked at MacAdams Funeral Home; a tasteful colonial house set on the back of a beautifully landscaped lot. Richie was not aware of anything except that he was going to his wife’s visitation. Jon had promised him that he’d take care of the media nonsense, but he knew he was going to have to say something. He knew, too that he was going to have to get on the board and say a thank you to everyone before Tiffany shut it down. She was leaving it open until after the funeral so Stephanie and Cheryl could provide updates to the girls who couldn’t make it to Boston, but after that, she was closing it down. To Tiffany, it didn’t seem right to keep it going without Hath.
Even though Richie helped pick out the casket, the spray of lilacs across the lower portion, and was there when Mary Agnes brought out clothes for Jen to be dressed in, the first sight of her laid out took the breath from his lungs. She truly looked as if she was sleeping, and from across the room, he’d never have known she was in a horrifying plane wreck.
Up close, though, he could tell. The blond wig wasn’t quite the right style, but it was close; the makeup didn’t quite cover all the cuts and bruising, and her left hand was still all bandaged. Her right hand was crossed over left, with a rosary wrapped around them. Her engagement and wedding rings glittered incongruously against the muted pallor of her skin.
Richie lowered himself to the kneeler and talked to Jennifer for a long time. Eventually, he felt Mary Agnes kneel beside him, and her husband stand behind them. John and Susan joined them, and the five people who loved her most in the world prayed.
Soon, other people began filtering in, and Richie stood numbly in the receiving line, wishing the night was over already. His gaze never strayed far from his wife, and he watched people come and go for the better part of two hours. Close to the end of the visitation, Krissy stood in the front of the room.
“Hi everyone,. If you don’t know me, I’m Krissy, one of Jennifer’s best friends. We’re gathering at our restaurant afterwards to raise a toast to our friend and sister, and you’re all welcome to come.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The parking lot at the restaurant was full, overflowing to the street. Krissy’s husband Matt put a sign on the door that said ‘closed for private gathering’ and had been cooking all day. Trays of food lined the counters and bar, and he had several of his most trusted staff in to serve the gathering. Once everyone was assembled, the stories began. People all had something they wanted to say. Soon, there were pockets of laughter amid the tears.
Stephanie smiled and stood up, addressing the gathering.
"I want to share a story with you. I met Hath er Jen, just six months ago on an on-line chat forum. The love of a certain band -- I'm sure I don't need to tell you which band -- brought many of us together and I, for one, formed friendships that will carry on long after today is over. With her wit and wisdom, her wicked sense of humor and her penchant for being more than a little naughty, she drew us all to her. She would listen when we were struggling, laugh with us when we felt like being silly and offer whatever advice she could when we needed it."
There were nods and murmuring of agreement from the girls from T’s Place.
"When I met Jen in real life, on my first trip to Boston back in July, there was no awkward first time meeting hellos; she hugged me like we had known each other all our lives. She let me into her home, introduced me to her family and I was accepted without question.
"That weekend is one I won't ever forget. Everywhere we went that weekend, we took the Harley she so loved. We spent time with her family and I got to know her, the real her. A lot of people think that the people you meet online aren't what they seem when you meet them in person. I say that's a load of crap. Jen was every inch the person she claimed to be on that forum. I am glad that I got to know her even if it was for way too short a time.
"She inspired me that weekend too. I went home and learned to drive my own motorcycle, something I had always wanted to do and had been too afraid to try; and she was the first person I wanted to tell when I bought my own Harley. She was so happy for me. My only regret is that we'll never get to ride together again.
"She was also the first and only woman I have ever slept with. Yes, you heard that right. From that first time I stayed with her until just a few days ago, whenever I was visiting, as long as Richie wasn't there, we shared her bed. If her bed could talk we'd be in big trouble. There were lots of long talks, laughter and tears shared there, not to mention the gallons of mint chocolate chip ice cream we always seemed to need. It was also in that bed that I first talked to Richie. I remember Jen and I were watching a movie when he called. Jen's face lit up as she talked to him."
Stephanie turned to Richie. "She loved you even then Rich. I hope I'm lucky enough to find a love like that one day."
Stephanie raised a glass and her eyes heavenward. "Jen, Hath, my friend, my sister, I don't think there's enough mint chocolate chip out there to help me tonight. I love you, I miss you, I wanna be just like you when I grow up."
Gail was nodding along with everyone else, and had a big smile on her face, recalling her own memories.
"I remember Hath meeting me at the hotel in the UK for the Southampton concert. She'd already met Richie by then, and she'd finally told me about him. Damn I nearly killed the bitch! She'd kept it from me, even knowing we'd get to meet them backstage after the concert. But she caved in and Christ what a night that was!" She turned to gaze at Richie.
"I watched as her face light up like a light house when she spotted you, Rich, and the look you gave her, nearly sent the place up in smoke, I thought then you’d marry."
Her breath hitched, but she smiled through it. "She gave our boy a run for his money. Then there was the night we went to my friends’ Jazz club in England. She was dolled up to the nines, if I'd batted for the pink team, I'd have tried to pull her myself. Sorry, Ma."
There was rowdy laughter, and a few catcalls. Richie managed a smile, and Jon clapped his back.
Gail continued, "But I don't, so I didn't. She couldn't believe when we walked up to the club that we were treated like rock stars. My friends loved her on sight, I think everyone who Hath met loved her, hell even her minions thought she walked on water! The amount of men who hit on her that night was amazing."
Richie frowned at that.
"Don’t worry, Rich," Gail laughed, "she turned each of them down with a smile and some soothing words; her heart already belonged to you. She could do that, you know; make a ‘no’ sound like a great idea. The guys left with smiles on their faces. I remember too when we'd got our buzz on doing a few turns on the bar, bumping and grinding. Summer said she'd hire us to dance full time, we both looked at her and told her she couldn't afford us! Christ I'm going to miss her so fucking much!"
Jen’s brother stood, icy cold beer in his hand.
"Growing up, I hated my sistah. She was oldah and bettah at school than I was and of course I had all the same teachiz, so there was this expectation that I’d be a braniac like she was. Nope. I wasn’t. But when she graduated high school and went off to college, something strange happened. We became friends.
"When I turned twenty-one, she volunteered to be my designated drivah so my frat brothiz could take me out drinking. We all got stinking drunk, but my sistah, bless her, handled a cah full of rowdy 21-year-olds with ease. She’d known most of them since we were all in high school togethah, and she was their honorary big sistah."
Some of John's friends, Jennifer's honorary younger brothers, were scattered throughout the room and stood raised their own glasses or bottles.
"Sit down, you idiots," John said. "Anyways, by the third or fourth bah, I can’t remember which, my buddy Kirk," he shot an annoyed glande at his friend, "decided he was in love. Yeah, with Jen. He kept flirting with her and she kept ignoring him, which made him flirt hahdah. Man, he was pathetic. Anyways, at the end of the night, when she was dropping us off back at the frat house, Kirk got out of the backseat and slid into the front. He put his ahm around Jen and said, 'I love you'.”
Everyone laughed, even Richie. He could just about imagine where John was going with this. "Jen looked right at him, and I swear I thought Kirk was going to die. She says, “I love you too. Now get out of my cah before you throw up. It’d be a shame to have to kick your ass up and down frat row. Kirk looks at her and says, 'but you love me!' And Jen smiled sweetly and said, 'yeah, but I love my cah more.'"
Richie laughed hard at John’s story, then felt guilty for the laughter. But he felt the band that was constricting his heart loosen a little. He didn’t think this was going to be a good idea, but now he was glad he came.
Cheryl stood next.
"You know what I remember so clearly it’s like it was yesterday? It was back at the end of June and I was at work and my phone rang. It was Jen and she told me she had something important to tell me and that I needed to go someplace private in my office. That’s when she told me that her new secret lover (ha!) was actually Richie. I remember my mouth dropping open like an idiot and not being able to talk, which was ok because she was telling me all about how they met and spent time together in Southampton. We were going to be meeting in Boston shortly thereafter and she knew I would have the chance to meet Rich then and wanted me to be prepared."
She looked at Richie with soft eyes. "I just remember how she sounded… over the frickin’ moon happy, like I’d never heard her before. Even then I knew you would end up together… but I never expected your story to end this soon. I miss her so much...I can’t even imagine how you and Ava and Ma and John and the rest of the family are feeling. I’ve never been more a part of any family as they have made me feel from the moment Jen and I became friends. My heart is breaking for them all even more than it is breaking for me."
Mary Agnes stood and looked at her son-in-law. “Richard, I didn’t want to say anything in case I couldn’t find it, but I have a letter from Jennifer from the very first time you two ever met.” She pulled an envelope from her bag. “She always wrote to us; was open and honest with us about everything.”
Richie could see Jen’s handwriting on the front and his heart squeezed. He longed to pull the letter from Ma’s hand so he could hold something SHE had created. Mary Agnes extracted a sheet of paper from the envelope, unfolded it, and began to read.
November 16, 1991
Hi Ma and Daddy!
This was the best birthday EVER! What a way to turn twenty-one! San Diego is gorgeous, the weather is perfect, and I don’t want to come home. Before you have a heart attack, Daddy, I’m just saying. I’m still coming home to finish school, don’t worry, ha ha ha.
But the concert was ABSOLUTE perfection. I was sitting so close, I could see his eyes sparkle under the lights, and when he was leaning away from the microphone to say something to his traveling band, I could still hear the rumble of his voice. The music was amazing, HE was amazing, and I was so bummed to see the evening end, but you’ll NEVER guess what happened after!!
I MET HIM!
After the show, he was hanging around meeting the fans and posing for pictures and signing stuff, and I waited forever to get up there with this whole little speech prepared in my head just to freeze up. I’m twenty-one for God’s sake, not some star-struck teenager. Well, tonight, I was a star-struck teenager. Then he smiled and I forgot my name, and I think I’m in love.
I can practically see you shaking your heads. Don’t worry about me; this is just a harmless crush, and I’ll save the gory details for Krissy, but damn (yes, damn) if he isn’t the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen close up. He was really nice too. He saw I was all goofy, and didn’t make fun of me. In fact he was all fun. He recognized my accent as being East Coast and called me on it.
I said, “Yep, flew out from Beantown this morning just for you," then turned eighty-seven different shades of red.
What I remember clearly is that he took my hand and leaned in to kiss my cheek. I swear to God, I swooned (ha ha) and you KNOW that isn’t my style. Anyway, he said, "well thank you, darlin', that was real nice of you."
Then I made him laugh which was the best sound I’d ever heard. I said, "anytime, just let me know where you'll be, and I'll be there will bells on." Then some bimbo pushed me out of the way. Yeah, sure, like he was trolling. The man dates Cher for cryin’ out loud. Anyway, I looked at this woman and said, "relax, sweet-cheeks, it's not like he's leaving with me," and winked at him, making him laugh again.
I'm surprised I got that many words out without sounding like a bleeping idiot. I threw up when I got back to the hotel. It was just a fabulous experience, and I’ve got a special memory that will last me forever.
I know I’m coming home in a couple days, and will probably arrive home at about the same time this letter reaches you, but I had to write as soon as I got to the hotel. I had to tell you what a fantastic time I had. How do you feel about long-haired rock-n-rollers? Ha ha.
Love you guys.
See you soon!
Love, Jen
When she was done, she folded the letter back up and handed it and the envelope to Richie. “You keep this. Keep this and know she loved you from the start, even if it was just a crush back then. You are a very special man, and you made her so happy,” Ma’s eyes were tearing up. “Thank you for putting the light back into her eyes.” She kissed his cheek. “And for the record, we like long haired rock-n-rollers just fine.”
She hugged Richie close, and as he held his mother-in-law to him, the heart-band loosened a little more. Straightening, he cleared his throat.
“I suppose I should say something too, but I don’t know where to start. She was my heart. My other half. I remember when Jon gave me her number, I called her like a dozen times that first day. She was at church at some choir thing for Joanna,” he smiled at John and Sue, “and though she said she knew it was me, it was her niece’s day. That’s what I loved most about her. Her selflessness. She put everyone else first.”
Richie had to clear his throat and take a sip of water. He desperately wanted something far stronger, but knew that Jennifer would be disappointed in him if he did. “She did that with my daughter, too. I wanted them to meet, but Ava’s mother was going through a rough time, and Jen didn’t want to over-burden my little girl. And my mother. I brought my mother with me to visit, didn’t tell Jen—”
“That wasn’t very smaht,” Jen’s brother called out.
“Yeah, I know,” Richie said chuckling, “but she took it in stride, and went out of her way to make them welcome in her home and her life. They spent a week redecorating a room for Ava so she’d have someplace that was totally hers when she came to visit.”
Richie shook his head. “I know I haven’t known or loved her as long as most of you, but I loved her with every fiber of my being. I will always love her.” He raised his water glass to the sky. “Jennifer, darlin’, I miss you something awful. I’m not complete without you. I love you.” He sat down and Jon put an arm around his buddy’s shoulder.
“That was nice, man,” Jon said.
Richie just smiled sadly at Jon. “I’m ready to go now,” he said.
When they left, just the two of them, the others stayed behind, reminiscing and laughing. When Richie got back to Jen’s house, he went up into her bedroom and shut the door. Looking at the mess he had made, he started cleaning up. He lined all the shoes back in the closet, and hung up the coats. He re-folded the sweaters and put them back on the shelves or in the drawers, and all the sweatshirts but one went back into the chest.
Smiling to himself, he stuffed Jen’s pillow into the sweatshirt. She had told him once that when she missed him, she’d put one of his t-shirts over the pillow and lay on it, and imagined she could hear his heart. He did that now, shucking the suit he wore and climbing into bed in his boxers. He lay his head on the sweatshirt-pillow and sighed. If he tried hard, he could hear the faint beating of a heart. He brought his left hand up to rest beside his face, so he could stare at his wedding ring.
“Good night, Jennifer,” he said, then closed his eyes.
Long hours later, he fell asleep.
Goddess’ Note: Thanks Stephanie, Willow, and Gail for sharing your Hath memories :)
Even though Richie helped pick out the casket, the spray of lilacs across the lower portion, and was there when Mary Agnes brought out clothes for Jen to be dressed in, the first sight of her laid out took the breath from his lungs. She truly looked as if she was sleeping, and from across the room, he’d never have known she was in a horrifying plane wreck.
Up close, though, he could tell. The blond wig wasn’t quite the right style, but it was close; the makeup didn’t quite cover all the cuts and bruising, and her left hand was still all bandaged. Her right hand was crossed over left, with a rosary wrapped around them. Her engagement and wedding rings glittered incongruously against the muted pallor of her skin.
Richie lowered himself to the kneeler and talked to Jennifer for a long time. Eventually, he felt Mary Agnes kneel beside him, and her husband stand behind them. John and Susan joined them, and the five people who loved her most in the world prayed.
Soon, other people began filtering in, and Richie stood numbly in the receiving line, wishing the night was over already. His gaze never strayed far from his wife, and he watched people come and go for the better part of two hours. Close to the end of the visitation, Krissy stood in the front of the room.
“Hi everyone,. If you don’t know me, I’m Krissy, one of Jennifer’s best friends. We’re gathering at our restaurant afterwards to raise a toast to our friend and sister, and you’re all welcome to come.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The parking lot at the restaurant was full, overflowing to the street. Krissy’s husband Matt put a sign on the door that said ‘closed for private gathering’ and had been cooking all day. Trays of food lined the counters and bar, and he had several of his most trusted staff in to serve the gathering. Once everyone was assembled, the stories began. People all had something they wanted to say. Soon, there were pockets of laughter amid the tears.
Stephanie smiled and stood up, addressing the gathering.
"I want to share a story with you. I met Hath er Jen, just six months ago on an on-line chat forum. The love of a certain band -- I'm sure I don't need to tell you which band -- brought many of us together and I, for one, formed friendships that will carry on long after today is over. With her wit and wisdom, her wicked sense of humor and her penchant for being more than a little naughty, she drew us all to her. She would listen when we were struggling, laugh with us when we felt like being silly and offer whatever advice she could when we needed it."
There were nods and murmuring of agreement from the girls from T’s Place.
"When I met Jen in real life, on my first trip to Boston back in July, there was no awkward first time meeting hellos; she hugged me like we had known each other all our lives. She let me into her home, introduced me to her family and I was accepted without question.
"That weekend is one I won't ever forget. Everywhere we went that weekend, we took the Harley she so loved. We spent time with her family and I got to know her, the real her. A lot of people think that the people you meet online aren't what they seem when you meet them in person. I say that's a load of crap. Jen was every inch the person she claimed to be on that forum. I am glad that I got to know her even if it was for way too short a time.
"She inspired me that weekend too. I went home and learned to drive my own motorcycle, something I had always wanted to do and had been too afraid to try; and she was the first person I wanted to tell when I bought my own Harley. She was so happy for me. My only regret is that we'll never get to ride together again.
"She was also the first and only woman I have ever slept with. Yes, you heard that right. From that first time I stayed with her until just a few days ago, whenever I was visiting, as long as Richie wasn't there, we shared her bed. If her bed could talk we'd be in big trouble. There were lots of long talks, laughter and tears shared there, not to mention the gallons of mint chocolate chip ice cream we always seemed to need. It was also in that bed that I first talked to Richie. I remember Jen and I were watching a movie when he called. Jen's face lit up as she talked to him."
Stephanie turned to Richie. "She loved you even then Rich. I hope I'm lucky enough to find a love like that one day."
Stephanie raised a glass and her eyes heavenward. "Jen, Hath, my friend, my sister, I don't think there's enough mint chocolate chip out there to help me tonight. I love you, I miss you, I wanna be just like you when I grow up."
Gail was nodding along with everyone else, and had a big smile on her face, recalling her own memories.
"I remember Hath meeting me at the hotel in the UK for the Southampton concert. She'd already met Richie by then, and she'd finally told me about him. Damn I nearly killed the bitch! She'd kept it from me, even knowing we'd get to meet them backstage after the concert. But she caved in and Christ what a night that was!" She turned to gaze at Richie.
"I watched as her face light up like a light house when she spotted you, Rich, and the look you gave her, nearly sent the place up in smoke, I thought then you’d marry."
Her breath hitched, but she smiled through it. "She gave our boy a run for his money. Then there was the night we went to my friends’ Jazz club in England. She was dolled up to the nines, if I'd batted for the pink team, I'd have tried to pull her myself. Sorry, Ma."
There was rowdy laughter, and a few catcalls. Richie managed a smile, and Jon clapped his back.
Gail continued, "But I don't, so I didn't. She couldn't believe when we walked up to the club that we were treated like rock stars. My friends loved her on sight, I think everyone who Hath met loved her, hell even her minions thought she walked on water! The amount of men who hit on her that night was amazing."
Richie frowned at that.
"Don’t worry, Rich," Gail laughed, "she turned each of them down with a smile and some soothing words; her heart already belonged to you. She could do that, you know; make a ‘no’ sound like a great idea. The guys left with smiles on their faces. I remember too when we'd got our buzz on doing a few turns on the bar, bumping and grinding. Summer said she'd hire us to dance full time, we both looked at her and told her she couldn't afford us! Christ I'm going to miss her so fucking much!"
Jen’s brother stood, icy cold beer in his hand.
"Growing up, I hated my sistah. She was oldah and bettah at school than I was and of course I had all the same teachiz, so there was this expectation that I’d be a braniac like she was. Nope. I wasn’t. But when she graduated high school and went off to college, something strange happened. We became friends.
"When I turned twenty-one, she volunteered to be my designated drivah so my frat brothiz could take me out drinking. We all got stinking drunk, but my sistah, bless her, handled a cah full of rowdy 21-year-olds with ease. She’d known most of them since we were all in high school togethah, and she was their honorary big sistah."
Some of John's friends, Jennifer's honorary younger brothers, were scattered throughout the room and stood raised their own glasses or bottles.
"Sit down, you idiots," John said. "Anyways, by the third or fourth bah, I can’t remember which, my buddy Kirk," he shot an annoyed glande at his friend, "decided he was in love. Yeah, with Jen. He kept flirting with her and she kept ignoring him, which made him flirt hahdah. Man, he was pathetic. Anyways, at the end of the night, when she was dropping us off back at the frat house, Kirk got out of the backseat and slid into the front. He put his ahm around Jen and said, 'I love you'.”
Everyone laughed, even Richie. He could just about imagine where John was going with this. "Jen looked right at him, and I swear I thought Kirk was going to die. She says, “I love you too. Now get out of my cah before you throw up. It’d be a shame to have to kick your ass up and down frat row. Kirk looks at her and says, 'but you love me!' And Jen smiled sweetly and said, 'yeah, but I love my cah more.'"
Richie laughed hard at John’s story, then felt guilty for the laughter. But he felt the band that was constricting his heart loosen a little. He didn’t think this was going to be a good idea, but now he was glad he came.
Cheryl stood next.
"You know what I remember so clearly it’s like it was yesterday? It was back at the end of June and I was at work and my phone rang. It was Jen and she told me she had something important to tell me and that I needed to go someplace private in my office. That’s when she told me that her new secret lover (ha!) was actually Richie. I remember my mouth dropping open like an idiot and not being able to talk, which was ok because she was telling me all about how they met and spent time together in Southampton. We were going to be meeting in Boston shortly thereafter and she knew I would have the chance to meet Rich then and wanted me to be prepared."
She looked at Richie with soft eyes. "I just remember how she sounded… over the frickin’ moon happy, like I’d never heard her before. Even then I knew you would end up together… but I never expected your story to end this soon. I miss her so much...I can’t even imagine how you and Ava and Ma and John and the rest of the family are feeling. I’ve never been more a part of any family as they have made me feel from the moment Jen and I became friends. My heart is breaking for them all even more than it is breaking for me."
Mary Agnes stood and looked at her son-in-law. “Richard, I didn’t want to say anything in case I couldn’t find it, but I have a letter from Jennifer from the very first time you two ever met.” She pulled an envelope from her bag. “She always wrote to us; was open and honest with us about everything.”
Richie could see Jen’s handwriting on the front and his heart squeezed. He longed to pull the letter from Ma’s hand so he could hold something SHE had created. Mary Agnes extracted a sheet of paper from the envelope, unfolded it, and began to read.
November 16, 1991
Hi Ma and Daddy!
This was the best birthday EVER! What a way to turn twenty-one! San Diego is gorgeous, the weather is perfect, and I don’t want to come home. Before you have a heart attack, Daddy, I’m just saying. I’m still coming home to finish school, don’t worry, ha ha ha.
But the concert was ABSOLUTE perfection. I was sitting so close, I could see his eyes sparkle under the lights, and when he was leaning away from the microphone to say something to his traveling band, I could still hear the rumble of his voice. The music was amazing, HE was amazing, and I was so bummed to see the evening end, but you’ll NEVER guess what happened after!!
I MET HIM!
After the show, he was hanging around meeting the fans and posing for pictures and signing stuff, and I waited forever to get up there with this whole little speech prepared in my head just to freeze up. I’m twenty-one for God’s sake, not some star-struck teenager. Well, tonight, I was a star-struck teenager. Then he smiled and I forgot my name, and I think I’m in love.
I can practically see you shaking your heads. Don’t worry about me; this is just a harmless crush, and I’ll save the gory details for Krissy, but damn (yes, damn) if he isn’t the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen close up. He was really nice too. He saw I was all goofy, and didn’t make fun of me. In fact he was all fun. He recognized my accent as being East Coast and called me on it.
I said, “Yep, flew out from Beantown this morning just for you," then turned eighty-seven different shades of red.
What I remember clearly is that he took my hand and leaned in to kiss my cheek. I swear to God, I swooned (ha ha) and you KNOW that isn’t my style. Anyway, he said, "well thank you, darlin', that was real nice of you."
Then I made him laugh which was the best sound I’d ever heard. I said, "anytime, just let me know where you'll be, and I'll be there will bells on." Then some bimbo pushed me out of the way. Yeah, sure, like he was trolling. The man dates Cher for cryin’ out loud. Anyway, I looked at this woman and said, "relax, sweet-cheeks, it's not like he's leaving with me," and winked at him, making him laugh again.
I'm surprised I got that many words out without sounding like a bleeping idiot. I threw up when I got back to the hotel. It was just a fabulous experience, and I’ve got a special memory that will last me forever.
I know I’m coming home in a couple days, and will probably arrive home at about the same time this letter reaches you, but I had to write as soon as I got to the hotel. I had to tell you what a fantastic time I had. How do you feel about long-haired rock-n-rollers? Ha ha.
Love you guys.
See you soon!
Love, Jen
When she was done, she folded the letter back up and handed it and the envelope to Richie. “You keep this. Keep this and know she loved you from the start, even if it was just a crush back then. You are a very special man, and you made her so happy,” Ma’s eyes were tearing up. “Thank you for putting the light back into her eyes.” She kissed his cheek. “And for the record, we like long haired rock-n-rollers just fine.”
She hugged Richie close, and as he held his mother-in-law to him, the heart-band loosened a little more. Straightening, he cleared his throat.
“I suppose I should say something too, but I don’t know where to start. She was my heart. My other half. I remember when Jon gave me her number, I called her like a dozen times that first day. She was at church at some choir thing for Joanna,” he smiled at John and Sue, “and though she said she knew it was me, it was her niece’s day. That’s what I loved most about her. Her selflessness. She put everyone else first.”
Richie had to clear his throat and take a sip of water. He desperately wanted something far stronger, but knew that Jennifer would be disappointed in him if he did. “She did that with my daughter, too. I wanted them to meet, but Ava’s mother was going through a rough time, and Jen didn’t want to over-burden my little girl. And my mother. I brought my mother with me to visit, didn’t tell Jen—”
“That wasn’t very smaht,” Jen’s brother called out.
“Yeah, I know,” Richie said chuckling, “but she took it in stride, and went out of her way to make them welcome in her home and her life. They spent a week redecorating a room for Ava so she’d have someplace that was totally hers when she came to visit.”
Richie shook his head. “I know I haven’t known or loved her as long as most of you, but I loved her with every fiber of my being. I will always love her.” He raised his water glass to the sky. “Jennifer, darlin’, I miss you something awful. I’m not complete without you. I love you.” He sat down and Jon put an arm around his buddy’s shoulder.
“That was nice, man,” Jon said.
Richie just smiled sadly at Jon. “I’m ready to go now,” he said.
When they left, just the two of them, the others stayed behind, reminiscing and laughing. When Richie got back to Jen’s house, he went up into her bedroom and shut the door. Looking at the mess he had made, he started cleaning up. He lined all the shoes back in the closet, and hung up the coats. He re-folded the sweaters and put them back on the shelves or in the drawers, and all the sweatshirts but one went back into the chest.
Smiling to himself, he stuffed Jen’s pillow into the sweatshirt. She had told him once that when she missed him, she’d put one of his t-shirts over the pillow and lay on it, and imagined she could hear his heart. He did that now, shucking the suit he wore and climbing into bed in his boxers. He lay his head on the sweatshirt-pillow and sighed. If he tried hard, he could hear the faint beating of a heart. He brought his left hand up to rest beside his face, so he could stare at his wedding ring.
“Good night, Jennifer,” he said, then closed his eyes.
Long hours later, he fell asleep.
Goddess’ Note: Thanks Stephanie, Willow, and Gail for sharing your Hath memories :)
Six: In Memoriam
The day of Jennifer Elizabeth Maria Teresa Petruzzo Sambora’s funeral was gorgeous, clear and sunny.
It shouldn’t have been. It should have been a dark, dreary, depressing day. But, the trees were in full glory, showing off their autumn colors, the sky was an impossible Cerulean, and it was unmarred by even the wispiest of clouds. The MacAdams Funeral Home was full to capacity. Jennifer’s friends, family, co-workers and other acquaintances gathered to pay their last respects.
Richie sat in the front row next to Jennifer’s parents; his black suit and gray shirt emphasizing the dark circles under his eyes. He wore the tie that Jennifer had done up for him for Father’s Day, and he fingered the double-neck design with one hand as he clutched the final gift he had brought for his wife in the other.
Richie’s best friend in the whole world sat next to him, his wife by his side. His other bandmates were on the other side of Tiffany. His daughter and her mother sat behind him, the little girl’s eyes wet with tears – more for her father, who was clearly hurting than for the woman he had loved. His own mother sat beside his daughter, and from time to time, leaned forward to put her hand on Richie’s shoulder.
When the priest concluded his remarks, he motioned Jennifer’s brother to the podium to sing the hymn. “This is – was – Jen’s favorite.” he cleared his throat. “Though she couldn’t sing for shit, sorry Ma,” he grinned at his mother, who was smiling through her tears. “She always sang this loud and proud at church, even though she surely made the angels weep with her voice.” He smiled sadly at the chuckles from the crowd, then began to sing in a pure, clear, deep baritone.
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found; was blind, but now, I see.
John paused, looking at his older sister; getting lost in a memory. A different voice picked up the next verse; a soft, feminine voice: honeyed whiskey with just a slight twang of Texas.
T'was Grace that taught my heart to fear. And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear the hour I first believed.
Jon stood up next to his wife and joined hands and voices with her.
Through many dangers, toils and snares, we have already come.
T'was Grace that brought us safe thus far, and Grace will lead us home.
Richie smiled at their harmony, and stood alongside his brother, lending his voice to the chorus. David and Tico stood too, moving to stand around Richie and put their hands on his shoulder as they sang.
The Lord has promised good to me...His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be...as long as life endures.
Starting with Jennifer’s family, spreading to her friends, and on through the rest of the crowd, the people gathered stood and joined hands, raising their voices high.
When we've been here ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise, then when we've first begun.
The whole congregation was singing now, their voices strong.
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found, was blind, but now, I see.
When the last strains of the harmony faded away, the congregation was invited to say one last goodbye before returning to their cars for the procession to the cemetery. One by one, people walked up the aisle to the gleaming solid cherry coffin. Some knelt and said a prayer, others reached in to touch Jennifer’s folded hands, which were wound with her mother’s rosary. Others kissed their fingers and touched her cheek.
Her grandmother cried when she pinned a small gold Crucifix to the shoulder of Jennifer’s sweater; a high-necked, long sleeved sweater meant to hide the worst of the burns, then leaned in to kiss her hands. “Il mio bellissimo angelo, vorrei vedere voi, prima della lunga.” My beautiful angel, I will see you before long.
Her niece, who wasn’t quite sure what had happened to Auntie Jen, but knew what a coffin was for, put a favorite doll in next to her. “So she won’t be alone when she’s in the dark, Daddy,” she said when John asked her if she was sure.
The sisters she had met on T’s Place had put together a small album of pictures from their visits together; shots from England, New Orleans, Boston, Central Park, and their visits to Jen's house, showing Jennifer having fun and being loved. With tears in her eyes, Cheryl nestled it between Jennifer’s denim-clad hip and the white silk lining of the casket. “Goodbye, my friend,” she said softly. The other girls added their goodbyes, and touched her arm, her shoulder, her face.
Each person who passed looked at Richie with sympathy as he stood there, ramrod straight, and dry-eyed. Some clasped his shoulder or touched his arm. His friends and family hugged him tightly and whispered platitudes in his ear that he didn’t hear.
When Jennifer’s parents went up to say goodbye, they stayed a long time, holding hands and gazing down on their daughter. They prayed and sobbed and Mary Agnes reached in to smooth a lock of the wig they had put on Jennifer to hide the burns to her scalp. When they passed Richie, Jen’s parents gave him a long, hard hug. “She loved you so much,” Mary Agnes said to him.
“I know,” Richie said hollowly. “I love her too.” Neither Mary Agnes nor John commented on his use of the present tense, they simply nodded. They understood that kind of love, for they had it – the kind of love that would transcend death. Richie held up his left hand. “The ring...”
John shook his head. “That is your wedding ring,” he said. “Keep it and remember her.”
Mary Agnes took Richie’s hand. “You will always be our son. You are always welcome in our home and in our lives.” She kissed his cheek, then took her husband’s hand and went to the car that would take them to Jennifer’s final resting place.
Richie’s brothers stood next. They hugged Richie fiercely, lending him their strength. They too, went to say goodbye to this woman who had brought their friend such happiness. Each man said his own silent prayer, then waited with Jennifer’s brother.
Ava took Richie’s hand, and looked up at him. “It’s our turn, Daddy,” she said. Hands tightly clasped, they went to say their own last goodbyes. Ava stood on the kneeler and placed a bouquet of tall, lanky sun drop flowers alongside Jennifer. “I really liked you, Jennifer,” she whispered. “Goodbye.” She turned to her father. “I would have loved having her as a second mommy,” she said, and hugged her father hard. She tiptoed up to kiss his cheek, then walked quickly back down the aisle to her mother, who was waiting just outside the door.
Richie took a long hard last look at the woman before him. He tried to reconcile the body in the coffin to the vibrant, loving woman he had known. He wanted this all to be a dream – a horrible nightmare from which surely he would soon awaken. He pressed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes and stood for a moment, gathering his strength.
“I will never forget you,” Richie said to her. “I love you.” He took the gift he had brought his wife and slid the edge of it under her clasped hands. The black Stetson, the one with the hammered silver band, looked out of place against the pale green of her sweater, but Richie didn’t care. It was her favorite hat, and he wanted her to have it; even if she didn’t know she had it. Her ring sparkled and shone under the room’s lights, and he leaned in to kiss it before dropping to his knees to pray.
He knelt before her for a long time. Finally, Jon came up behind him and put his hand on Richie’s shoulder. “It’s time to go,” he said softly.
“Jon, I can’t,” Richie said.
Jon hauled Richie to his feet, and wrapped his arms around his friend. They stood there for long minutes, and Jon let Richie absorb whatever strength he could. With a sharp slap on the back, Richie straightened, and cleared his throat. “You be careful with her,” he said.
Jon nodded. “As careful as if she were my own,” he promised.
With a shaky sigh, Richie nodded, and the funeral director stepped up to close the lid. Richie choked on a cry when the lock clicked into place. He put his hand over the spot where Jennifer’s heart was, and a last single tear snaked down his cheek.
When Richie turned to leave, Jon, John, Tico, and David donned dove-gray gloves, and took their positions around the coffin; lifting it to shoulder height. Slowly, solemnly, they walked down the aisle and out into the brilliant sunshine. They made their way slowly down the stairs, making sure not to jostle the precious woman they had been given care of. Richie was standing by the hearse, watching. Gently, the four men slid the coffin into the hearse, and Richie shut the door.
Jon led Richie to the waiting limo, and gave him a final hug before helping his friend to climb inside next to Jennifer’s parents. He went back to his own car and slid in next to his wife.
“Is he going to be alright?” Tiffany asked.
Jon just shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said, as their car joined what would be a mile-long line of vehicles. “I sure hope so.”
It shouldn’t have been. It should have been a dark, dreary, depressing day. But, the trees were in full glory, showing off their autumn colors, the sky was an impossible Cerulean, and it was unmarred by even the wispiest of clouds. The MacAdams Funeral Home was full to capacity. Jennifer’s friends, family, co-workers and other acquaintances gathered to pay their last respects.
Richie sat in the front row next to Jennifer’s parents; his black suit and gray shirt emphasizing the dark circles under his eyes. He wore the tie that Jennifer had done up for him for Father’s Day, and he fingered the double-neck design with one hand as he clutched the final gift he had brought for his wife in the other.
Richie’s best friend in the whole world sat next to him, his wife by his side. His other bandmates were on the other side of Tiffany. His daughter and her mother sat behind him, the little girl’s eyes wet with tears – more for her father, who was clearly hurting than for the woman he had loved. His own mother sat beside his daughter, and from time to time, leaned forward to put her hand on Richie’s shoulder.
When the priest concluded his remarks, he motioned Jennifer’s brother to the podium to sing the hymn. “This is – was – Jen’s favorite.” he cleared his throat. “Though she couldn’t sing for shit, sorry Ma,” he grinned at his mother, who was smiling through her tears. “She always sang this loud and proud at church, even though she surely made the angels weep with her voice.” He smiled sadly at the chuckles from the crowd, then began to sing in a pure, clear, deep baritone.
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found; was blind, but now, I see.
John paused, looking at his older sister; getting lost in a memory. A different voice picked up the next verse; a soft, feminine voice: honeyed whiskey with just a slight twang of Texas.
T'was Grace that taught my heart to fear. And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear the hour I first believed.
Jon stood up next to his wife and joined hands and voices with her.
Through many dangers, toils and snares, we have already come.
T'was Grace that brought us safe thus far, and Grace will lead us home.
Richie smiled at their harmony, and stood alongside his brother, lending his voice to the chorus. David and Tico stood too, moving to stand around Richie and put their hands on his shoulder as they sang.
The Lord has promised good to me...His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be...as long as life endures.
Starting with Jennifer’s family, spreading to her friends, and on through the rest of the crowd, the people gathered stood and joined hands, raising their voices high.
When we've been here ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise, then when we've first begun.
The whole congregation was singing now, their voices strong.
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found, was blind, but now, I see.
When the last strains of the harmony faded away, the congregation was invited to say one last goodbye before returning to their cars for the procession to the cemetery. One by one, people walked up the aisle to the gleaming solid cherry coffin. Some knelt and said a prayer, others reached in to touch Jennifer’s folded hands, which were wound with her mother’s rosary. Others kissed their fingers and touched her cheek.
Her grandmother cried when she pinned a small gold Crucifix to the shoulder of Jennifer’s sweater; a high-necked, long sleeved sweater meant to hide the worst of the burns, then leaned in to kiss her hands. “Il mio bellissimo angelo, vorrei vedere voi, prima della lunga.” My beautiful angel, I will see you before long.
Her niece, who wasn’t quite sure what had happened to Auntie Jen, but knew what a coffin was for, put a favorite doll in next to her. “So she won’t be alone when she’s in the dark, Daddy,” she said when John asked her if she was sure.
The sisters she had met on T’s Place had put together a small album of pictures from their visits together; shots from England, New Orleans, Boston, Central Park, and their visits to Jen's house, showing Jennifer having fun and being loved. With tears in her eyes, Cheryl nestled it between Jennifer’s denim-clad hip and the white silk lining of the casket. “Goodbye, my friend,” she said softly. The other girls added their goodbyes, and touched her arm, her shoulder, her face.
Each person who passed looked at Richie with sympathy as he stood there, ramrod straight, and dry-eyed. Some clasped his shoulder or touched his arm. His friends and family hugged him tightly and whispered platitudes in his ear that he didn’t hear.
When Jennifer’s parents went up to say goodbye, they stayed a long time, holding hands and gazing down on their daughter. They prayed and sobbed and Mary Agnes reached in to smooth a lock of the wig they had put on Jennifer to hide the burns to her scalp. When they passed Richie, Jen’s parents gave him a long, hard hug. “She loved you so much,” Mary Agnes said to him.
“I know,” Richie said hollowly. “I love her too.” Neither Mary Agnes nor John commented on his use of the present tense, they simply nodded. They understood that kind of love, for they had it – the kind of love that would transcend death. Richie held up his left hand. “The ring...”
John shook his head. “That is your wedding ring,” he said. “Keep it and remember her.”
Mary Agnes took Richie’s hand. “You will always be our son. You are always welcome in our home and in our lives.” She kissed his cheek, then took her husband’s hand and went to the car that would take them to Jennifer’s final resting place.
Richie’s brothers stood next. They hugged Richie fiercely, lending him their strength. They too, went to say goodbye to this woman who had brought their friend such happiness. Each man said his own silent prayer, then waited with Jennifer’s brother.
Ava took Richie’s hand, and looked up at him. “It’s our turn, Daddy,” she said. Hands tightly clasped, they went to say their own last goodbyes. Ava stood on the kneeler and placed a bouquet of tall, lanky sun drop flowers alongside Jennifer. “I really liked you, Jennifer,” she whispered. “Goodbye.” She turned to her father. “I would have loved having her as a second mommy,” she said, and hugged her father hard. She tiptoed up to kiss his cheek, then walked quickly back down the aisle to her mother, who was waiting just outside the door.
Richie took a long hard last look at the woman before him. He tried to reconcile the body in the coffin to the vibrant, loving woman he had known. He wanted this all to be a dream – a horrible nightmare from which surely he would soon awaken. He pressed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes and stood for a moment, gathering his strength.
“I will never forget you,” Richie said to her. “I love you.” He took the gift he had brought his wife and slid the edge of it under her clasped hands. The black Stetson, the one with the hammered silver band, looked out of place against the pale green of her sweater, but Richie didn’t care. It was her favorite hat, and he wanted her to have it; even if she didn’t know she had it. Her ring sparkled and shone under the room’s lights, and he leaned in to kiss it before dropping to his knees to pray.
He knelt before her for a long time. Finally, Jon came up behind him and put his hand on Richie’s shoulder. “It’s time to go,” he said softly.
“Jon, I can’t,” Richie said.
Jon hauled Richie to his feet, and wrapped his arms around his friend. They stood there for long minutes, and Jon let Richie absorb whatever strength he could. With a sharp slap on the back, Richie straightened, and cleared his throat. “You be careful with her,” he said.
Jon nodded. “As careful as if she were my own,” he promised.
With a shaky sigh, Richie nodded, and the funeral director stepped up to close the lid. Richie choked on a cry when the lock clicked into place. He put his hand over the spot where Jennifer’s heart was, and a last single tear snaked down his cheek.
When Richie turned to leave, Jon, John, Tico, and David donned dove-gray gloves, and took their positions around the coffin; lifting it to shoulder height. Slowly, solemnly, they walked down the aisle and out into the brilliant sunshine. They made their way slowly down the stairs, making sure not to jostle the precious woman they had been given care of. Richie was standing by the hearse, watching. Gently, the four men slid the coffin into the hearse, and Richie shut the door.
Jon led Richie to the waiting limo, and gave him a final hug before helping his friend to climb inside next to Jennifer’s parents. He went back to his own car and slid in next to his wife.
“Is he going to be alright?” Tiffany asked.
Jon just shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said, as their car joined what would be a mile-long line of vehicles. “I sure hope so.”
Epilogue
~*~*~ TWO YEARS LATER ~*~*~
“We’ll probably laugh about this later, but something seems to be wrong with the engines, and I just wanted to tell you that I love you and whatever you wanted to ask me when you see me, the answer is a big ol’ YES!” Jennifer chuckled. “I’m gonna get yelled at by the stewardess if she sees me, so I gotta go. I love you more than my own life, Rich, and I can’t wait to see you. Bye!”
He had long ago memorized every breath, every hitch, every syllable of her message. He listened to it far less frequently than he used to, but he couldn’t go too long without hearing her; her voice now brought him comfort. At first, the words ripped at his heart, and he very nearly purged the message from his voicemail. Then, in a moment of clarity, he had Obie pull it from cyberspace and burn it to disc for him. He had listened to it on an endless loop for days, weeks after the funeral. It took a long time before he could listen to her voice without crying.
Today, the sound brought a smile to his face.
When he heard the toot of a horn, Richie stepped out into the California sunshine. He grinned as his daughter came running up the driveway, and waved as his ex-wife and her husband pulled away. “Daddy! Today’s the day, right?”
“Well, I don’t know...” Richie said, laughing at his daughter’s pout.
“You PROMISED that when I turned thirteen, you’d take me!”
“I’m just kidding, princess. C’mon.”
Richie led his daughter around to the garage. There, tucked in between his BMW and the GMC truck was a beautiful Harley Fatboy: Jennifer’s Harley. When the truck had arrived with all of Jennifer’s things shortly after her funeral, he sent everything back to her parents except the photo of the two of them from the concert back in San Diego, the leather jacket with the replica of his tattoo on the back, and the motorcycle.
Now, he handed his daughter the jacket, and was surprised to see it wasn't as large on her as he thought it would be. He threw his leg over the seat of the bike and ran a hand over the "Hath" that was written in an elegant script across the tank. His wedding ring glinted in the afternoon sun as he traced the name of the woman he still loved. Richie chuckled at the detailing, and whispered, "Let's go have fun, Jen." An answering breeze teased the ends of Richie's now-shoulder-length hair, blowing it off his neck to caress the word STRENGTH tattooed there. Ava donned her helmet and climbed on the bike behind her father, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“Lean the way I lean,” Richie said to her. “You’ll be perfectly safe.”
“I know, I know; you told me a zillion times. Let’s just GO already, Daddy!” an impatient Ava insisted.
With a whoop of laughter, Richie kicked the Harley to life. The engine roared, and they took off down the driveway, off to have an adventure.
“We’ll probably laugh about this later, but something seems to be wrong with the engines, and I just wanted to tell you that I love you and whatever you wanted to ask me when you see me, the answer is a big ol’ YES!” Jennifer chuckled. “I’m gonna get yelled at by the stewardess if she sees me, so I gotta go. I love you more than my own life, Rich, and I can’t wait to see you. Bye!”
He had long ago memorized every breath, every hitch, every syllable of her message. He listened to it far less frequently than he used to, but he couldn’t go too long without hearing her; her voice now brought him comfort. At first, the words ripped at his heart, and he very nearly purged the message from his voicemail. Then, in a moment of clarity, he had Obie pull it from cyberspace and burn it to disc for him. He had listened to it on an endless loop for days, weeks after the funeral. It took a long time before he could listen to her voice without crying.
Today, the sound brought a smile to his face.
When he heard the toot of a horn, Richie stepped out into the California sunshine. He grinned as his daughter came running up the driveway, and waved as his ex-wife and her husband pulled away. “Daddy! Today’s the day, right?”
“Well, I don’t know...” Richie said, laughing at his daughter’s pout.
“You PROMISED that when I turned thirteen, you’d take me!”
“I’m just kidding, princess. C’mon.”
Richie led his daughter around to the garage. There, tucked in between his BMW and the GMC truck was a beautiful Harley Fatboy: Jennifer’s Harley. When the truck had arrived with all of Jennifer’s things shortly after her funeral, he sent everything back to her parents except the photo of the two of them from the concert back in San Diego, the leather jacket with the replica of his tattoo on the back, and the motorcycle.
Now, he handed his daughter the jacket, and was surprised to see it wasn't as large on her as he thought it would be. He threw his leg over the seat of the bike and ran a hand over the "Hath" that was written in an elegant script across the tank. His wedding ring glinted in the afternoon sun as he traced the name of the woman he still loved. Richie chuckled at the detailing, and whispered, "Let's go have fun, Jen." An answering breeze teased the ends of Richie's now-shoulder-length hair, blowing it off his neck to caress the word STRENGTH tattooed there. Ava donned her helmet and climbed on the bike behind her father, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“Lean the way I lean,” Richie said to her. “You’ll be perfectly safe.”
“I know, I know; you told me a zillion times. Let’s just GO already, Daddy!” an impatient Ava insisted.
With a whoop of laughter, Richie kicked the Harley to life. The engine roared, and they took off down the driveway, off to have an adventure.
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