3 Is a Magic Number Ch. 18 - Original Ending

"My second day in Howard went a bit differently. I was still awake when the alarm bell rang, due to the fact that I didn't sleep at all that night. Apparently, the staff had remarked to the headshrinkers that I did absolutely nothing the day before, because immediately after breakfast I was sent back to see another psychiatrist. He asked more questions that seemed to make no sense. He went on and on, and finally he asked me if I wanted to die. I replied that I did. He asked that if I were given the chance to end my own life, if I would do so; to which I replied that I wasn't sure. He wanted to know why, and I told him about Julia. The psychiatrist left strict orders that I was not to be allowed to lie in bed until bedtime, which meant that my entire day was spent in the day room; pointedly ignoring anyone who tried to speak to me.

"Later that day I talked one on one to a psychiatrist that specialized in psychotherapy. That was you, doctor."

***

The drugs never seemed to help at all. Talking to Dr. Jensen seemed to help me a lot, though. Telling the whole story, getting it off of my chest; finally, being able to tell someone all of my dirty secrets seemed to lift a weight off my shoulders. Julia visited me in the nut house every day. She was obviously in a state of deep emotional pain; but she seemed strangely distant. I asked what was up, and she told me flat out that I wasn't being there for, and that we should be grieving together, instead of me 'hiding out' in here. She never seemed to get that I never had a choice about coming here. I had been involuntarily committed on doctor's orders. I guess everyone grieves in their own way. But it seemed that she was slipping out of my grasp. Julia never showed up for her visit on my final day.

Mom and dad came visit me on the last day that I was in. To say that it was awkward would be like saying that the Empire State Building is pretty tall. Dad gave me a hug when he came in, and another when he left. He stayed for about five minutes of the visit, and then excused himself to go back out to the car. I know that his Katie-bear was his little princess, and that he couldn't be dealing with this well either. The fact that my 'strong silent type' dad hugged me at all seemed to lend credence to my mother's assertion that both of them had forgiven me, and had decided to keep past indiscretions in the past. My mom had actually invited me to move back home. I was touched, and I told her that I would think about it. My mom cried, and she hugged me. She told me that no matter what happened, that "I was always her little boy."

I had the people at Howard call Julia to let her know what time I would be released. I walked out the front door into the weak winter sunshine, and found nobody waiting for me. I waited for a half an hour, and then asked the guy at the reception desk to call me a cab that would take a credit card. I arrived at the apartment, and found it two thirds empty. All of Katie's stuff had been packed up by my Mom and Dad. I already knew this from the visit with my mom. What I found that surprised me was that all of Julia's small stuff was gone. All of her clothes, her jewelry, her shoes, her toiletries, were all missing. The furniture was there, including the huge canopied king-sized bed that the three of us had shared; where we had made our magic. On the forest green quilt, at the foot of the bed, was a note written in Julia's precise feminine handwriting.

Dearest Jack,

I don't know how to say this, so I will just give it my best shot. I love you; but every time I see you it reminds me of her. She and I started out as cousins, and then we were cousins and fuck buddies. She fell in love with you, and after hearing her talk non-stop about how great you were, and seeing the way that she looked at you, I fell in love with you too. If things had stopped there, maybe things would have turned out differently now. Over the past six months, Katie had become much more to me than a cousin, or a fuck buddy. I was, and am, in love with her every bit as much as I am with you. I know that it sounds cliché, but it isn't you; it's me. When I see you, I don't see what I still have in you; I see the empty space next to you where Katie should be. I love you, Jack; but I need time to work all this out.

Julia

Next to the letter was a plane ticket for a flight from Chicago to Detroit dated the next day; which would put me there a day ahead of Katie's funeral. I packed my clothes that evening, and after a restless night in that big, empty bed, I flew back home.

***

Katie's funeral was a simple affair. She had been cremated, and a picture of her looking radiant stood on the podium next to her urn. There was a huge turnout. Katie was well liked, and plenty of kids from high school were there, some even going as far as to fly in for the service. Most of our family had come up from South Carolina in order to honor her memory. I wore the same black suit that I wore to Aunt Barb's funeral; although it seemed like it was a little looser around the waist and chest than it was back then. I sat in the row reserved for family, between my Mom, and Julia's mom, Trish. It seemed fitting to be between the mothers of the two women that I had loved and lost. Julia was the one glaring absentee at the funeral. Everyone knew that she and Katie had been as close as sisters forever, and wondered what could have possibly kept her away.

The service itself was short, and tasteful. A minister said a few words about how all of our souls go on to a better place, and some stuff about how god has a reason for all things; even for taking someone so young and full of promise. My eyes were dry throughout this entire part. It was like I had cried a million tears, and that my body couldn't gather the moisture to squeeze out even one more.

The minister asked if anyone cared to share a story, or reminisce about Katie's life. My dad got up, and talked about how she was his Katie-bear, and how she used to run into his and my mom's room every time there was a thunderstorm until she was seven years old. He talked about what high hopes that he had for her future, and how that she is now in heaven looking down on us, smiling, and laughing at our stories.

My mom got up, and talked about how smart she was, and about how she learned to defeat every piece of child-proofing equipment before she was two years old. She talked about how much better a cook that Katie was compared to her, even when she had been fourteen years old.

Julia's mom, Trish, spoke about Katie's frequent sleep over adventures with Julia; and how she loved her like a daughter. She said it was a shame for such a beautiful flower to be cut down so soon after it bloomed. My eyes were still dry.

Kids from school got up to speak, everyone was positive. Katie was loved by all, and I bet if we held everyone in that room for fifteen hours, nobody except for my ex-girlfriend Amy would have been able to find a negative thing about her; but Amy was just a fucking cunt. She was sitting near the back with her new boyfriend, some preppy jock-looking guy. I wondered why she even bothered to come... Women.

The one thing that was missing was any mention of the baby. I had spent the previous day and night with my folks, and nobody had said a word about the baby; not even to suggest that it was a taboo subject to mention at the funeral.

"Does anyone else have any more words to say about Katie's life?" It was the minister. He looked around the room like an auctioneer waiting to pound the gavel at an auction. I stood up. I would not let the memorial service for my sister, and my lover pass without saying something. I walked to the podium, and cleared my throat.

"All of you have said such wonderful things about my sister. She was kind hearted, and never passed up the opportunity help someone in need. She was smart. She was funny, and I loved her with all my heart. The space that her passing has left in my life could never be filled by anyone else, and I will miss her every day of my life." All of a sudden, the tears hit me. I wasn't sobbing, but the tears were running freely by the end of this short little speech. "What some of you might not know was that Katie was pregnant when she died." When I said this, you could have heard a pin drop in the room. My Mom and Dad's faces were inscrutable, but my Trish looked panicked, and was shaking her head no.

"Katie got pregnant in the summer, by someone that I think that none of my family ever wants to talk about ever again; so, I won't go into the details. Katie was all the things that have been said here today, but she was also an expectant mother. The father might have been a loser; but Katie was excited about the baby nonetheless. She knew that the little life that was growing inside her was a part of her, and she couldn't wait to bring that life into the world so that she could shower it with all the love, and hope, and kindness, that you good friends and family were nice enough to recognize."

I wiped at the tears with absolutely no effect. Their flow continued down my cheeks, unimpeded. "The entire time that we were in Chicago she read books about pregnancy, and parenting, and played Taylor Swift to her belly to feel the baby kick. She said to me 'this one is going to be a dancer.' I loved my sister dearly, and I'm sorry if I offended any of your delicate sensibilities by talking about this; but this is a funeral for two, not for one. She jokingly called the baby Epiphany, but I never heard my sister consider any other name for her. Katie, I will miss you for what you were to me; and Epiphany, I will miss you for what you could have been. I love you both, and I hope that it is true that you are both in heaven looking down at us mere mortals, and laughing at our tears of sadness, when they should be tears of joy." I stepped away from the lectern, next to the podium that the urn that my sister's and our baby's mortal remains rested. The people were silent for a moment, but when I stepped around the urn I was met by my father, who swept me into a huge bear hug. The crowd sobbed at the display of affection from my normally reserved father.

"I love you, son. No matter what you may think," he whispered in my ear, "None of this was your fault. You were right to mention the baby. I am sorry that the rest of us stood mute, and pretended that it never happened."

"I love you too, Dad." I squeezed him fiercely.

***

After the funeral, I moved back home with my parents. My father and I drove a moving truck all the way to Chicago, loaded it with all of the rest of the stuff, and drove back. I put the big canopied bed in Trish's house, along with our bedroom furniture. I kept most of the other stuff in our garage, against the time when Julia came back, and might want it; or when I might move out on my own again.

A couple of weeks after the funeral, I asked Trish if she had ever heard anything from Julia. She said that she got a postcard that was mailed from the Bahamas, and it said that she was fine, and not to worry about her. I got no such postcard in the mail.

I took a semester off from school, to try and get my head back on straight. The long silence from Julia hurt, but the longer it went on, the more the hurt faded. Maybe some things weren't meant to be; or maybe some things weren't meant to at the present time. I'm no philosopher, so I won't debate the topic. I started at Wayne State University in the spring. The trust that Julia set up with the money from Aunt Barb allows me to go to school, keep insurance on the Porsche, and still have pocket money.

A couple of weeks after the winter term ended for everyone, Sandy Curry came into a coffee shop where I sat, working on learning to code in Python. She looked really good. Her chestnut brown hair had grown long in the year since I had seen her last. She even seemed to have filled out a little more in the chest region. I wouldn't have thought that it was possible. Her smile disarmed me, and I tried, but failed not to stare at her enormous rack. I agreed to a night out as "friends." A friend date seems like a good place to start for me.

***

Four years passed quickly. I went to Wayne State for two semesters before moving on to M.I.T to work on a B.S., and later a master's degree in computer security. Romance slowly bloomed between Sandy and me. We started as friends, and as we got to know each other better, and as time began to heal the gaping hole inside of me; friendship turned to love. When I moved to Boston, Sandy moved with me, and attended Tufts University's biomedical engineering program.

It was a little uncomfortable playing house with Sandy while going to school because it reminded me so much of the time I spent with the girls in Chicago. After a few weeks it became business as usual. We were a passionate couple. It was not uncommon for us to pull over our Toyota Land Cruiser over in a secluded parking lot and fuck each other's brains out. We were careful, and we didn't want to have kids until she at least completed her degree.

I had been at M.I.T. for nearly a year when I received a short note from Julia, that had been forwarded to my new address.

Dearest Jack,

I apologize for leaving you like I did, and for not contacting you for all this time. I guess that we both went a little crazy; each in our own way. I tried to fill the void left in my heart with booze, and drugs, and sex. It turns out that those things don't help you heal, or cope, they just make you numb and not care about anything at all. I remember you telling me about sitting in the snow and not feeling anything inside yourself at all. You were in shock, which is totally understandable. I had no excuse. I guess that I had, and I hate to use the word, an epiphany. I checked myself into a rehab clinic in Hawaii, where I was staying.

I am clean now, and have been for several months. One of the steps to recovery is to admit the wrongs that we have done to others, and to ask forgiveness. I wouldn't blame you if you never forgave me for bailing out on you at such a shitty time in your life. I only thought of my own pain, and could not wrap my head around what you must have been feeling. I truly am very sorry.

I recently heard that you and Sandy Curry are together. I always thought that she had a thing for you, and I wondered why you never noticed. I am not writing to get you back, or to come between you two. I wish you guys nothing but happiness. I will always love you, Jack; and I am sure that a tiny piece of you will always love me. I cherish what we had. I wish things had worked out differently.

With Love,

Julia

At first, I didn't know how to react to the letter. Sandy told me that it seemed like a sincere plea for forgiveness. It felt good to see her feelings on paper, and I readily forgave her. The letter had no return address, so I had no way to contact her. I called Trish, and told her that the next time she talked to Julia to tell her that all is forgiven. She said that she hadn't talked to her since she left, and only receives mail with no return address, and postmarked from all over the world. I received a few more letters, and she seemed like her head was in a better place with each correspondence.

Sandy and I got married on a Saturday in July. She had finished her bachelor's degree in June, and I was into my first year of my master's program. Our ceremony was very small, and took place on the beach at Cape Elizabeth, Maine. My parents, and her parents were the only people that we invited. The ceremony was officiated by a local Justice of the Peace. Sandy looked radiant in her beautiful white gown. It brought tears to my eyes as her father walked her up the make-shift aisle. Our vows and rings were exchanged, and I was the happiest man in the world.

Both of our moms were snapping pictures with their phones when I saw a little white car drive up that had to be a rental. The door opened, and out stepped Julia. She smiled when she saw us standing there, making a heart shape out of our joined hands. She walked slowly and shyly towards our group.

"I'll leave you guys to talk," my new bride said. I took her hand firmly in mine.

"No. I am one hundred percent yours, so you should be here with me." She gave me a smile that melted my heart.

"I'm sorry that I was late. One of my flights hit some weather, and I missed my connecting flight in Japan." She walked up and hugged Sandy like she was a long, lost sister. "You have a really special man, Sandy. I am so happy for the two of you."

Julia hugged me tightly. It felt good to see her, but it was different. It wasn't like I was seeing my lover that I once had a white-hot passion for; it was more like seeing a best friend that I hadn't seen in forever. She looked older than her years. I guess the booze and drugs will do that to a person. I peered into her eyes, and they were no longer the happy-go-lucky eyes of a teenager; but neither were they the haunted eyes of an addict.

"Thank you for coming, Jules." The familiar smirk pulled crookedly at her mouth for a second.

"I am a wedding crasher. I know that I wasn't invited," she turned to Sandy. "I hope that our past doesn't make this uncomfortable for you. If it does, just say the word, and I am gone."

"No," Sandy said quickly. "You are a huge person in his life, and if I would have known how to contact you, I would have sent you an invitation." Just like that everything fell into place like it was supposed to be.

Julia joined our families as we went out to eat and celebrate. Sandy and I had the first dance, but I danced with Julia, and so did Sandy. We talked, and laughed, and reminisced over good times. It wasn't even sad when I told a story that had Katie in it. I paused, looking at my companions to see if I should break off that part of the conversation. There were no tears, and no cringing away from her memory. That made me feel good. I had a brand-new beautiful wife, and my best friend was back in my life. What more could a guy ask for?