Southern Comfort Ch. 07

The world began to spin out of control. I remember only brief flashes of what happened for the next few seconds. Hands reaching to grab me. Someone calling "Get a chair". A shout for Steve. And, then there were suddenly arms around me, holding me, and a low voice talking to me, calling my name.

"Jon?" I asked as I looked up into the face of the man who was holding me. I called his name a second time before I began to focus again.

He shook his head at me and said, "It's me, Ivan. I've got you, Cindy. I'm here." He sat me in a chair and was kneeling in front of me with his arms still around me. "Cindy, give me the phone," he said as he tried to take the receiver from me. "Come on, baby. Give me the phone," he kept saying over and over. I don't know how he pried it from my fingers, but he did take it away from me just as I was beginning to recognize the faces gathered around me.

He stood up and snapped into the phone, "Who is this?" He listened for a moment and then said, "I understand. Yes, Ma'am. We'll handle it from this end. Your daughter is in shock right now, but I'll have her call you back as soon as possible."

I watched as he hung up the phone and pulled Steve to the side to talk to him. The foyer went silent and my co-workers suddenly drifted away. Ivan came back to me and knelt down by me. He laid his hand against my cheek and asked, "Cindy, do you know me?" I nodded. "Who am I?" he asked.

"Ivan?" I replied sounding unsure.

"That's right, baby. It's Ivan. I'm going to get you out of here. Do you think you can walk?" he asked.

I felt as if I was in some dream state, but I nodded. He called Steve closer and said, "Bring me her purse and coat." Steve scurried away to the bar.

"Ivan? Where is Jon?" I asked.

"Jon's not here, baby. Just me, but I've got you. Everything is going to be fine. I'm going to take you to Jon's," he said softly. He turned to Steve again and asked him where my keys were. Steve shook his head and shrugged.

"Cindy, do you know where your keys are?" Ivan asked gently. I nodded and told him to look in my purse. He found them and said, "Let's go." I stood up and he supported most of my weight until we exited the building. The cold air seemed to snap me out of my stupor.

I looked around as if I was suddenly in control again. "I can't go to Jon's. I have to go home, Ivan. My family. Did my mother tell you?" I asked as tears began to pour down my cheeks.

He nodded grimly. "Yes, she did." He wrapped me in his arms and hugged me to him. "It'll be alright,Cher. We're all here for you. Let me take you to Jon's. Your mom is flying in tonight. Someone needs to meet her at the airport. Jon or I either one can do that."

"I have to go home," I repeated.

"If that's what you want to do, then that's what we'll do. I'll take you home," he said firmly. He walked me the rest of the way to the car and put me inside. "Wait here for a minute. I'll get someone to follow us and bring me back here."

Five minutes later, Ivan walked me to my front door. Roger flung the door open before I could insert the key in the lock. Ivan stared at him a moment before he relinquished his hold on my arm to Roger.

"She's not doing well," he explained to Roger. "Did her mother call you?" he asked. Roger nodded at him.

"Yeah. Her mom told me what's going on. Thanks for bringing her home, man. I've got her from here," he assured Ivan.

When I was in the living room and seated on the couch, Roger asked, "What can I do?"

"Did momma talk to you?" I asked. He nodded again. "They're all dead," I said in disbelief.

"Who is all dead?" he asked with a frown.

"My family. Trish, Karen, all the kids," I replied. I was shaking from shock as I lit a cigarette and tried to calm down.

Roger suddenly did the unexpected. He wrapped his arms around me and said, "Oh, my god! Is that what you thought? No wonder you're in shock."

I nodded and sobbed against his shoulder.

"No, Cindy. Your family is not all dead. It's the baby," he said as he held me.

"What baby?" I asked in total bewilderment. "Trish and Karen aren't dead?"

"No. No. Your sisters are both fine. It's Karen's baby. The baby passed away this morning. No one else died. Only the baby," he assured me.

The phraseonly the baby was ringing in my head; only the baby is dead, as if it somehow didn't matter. I thought of my own unborn child. It doesn't matter because it's only a baby. I heard Roger speaking to me again.

"Your mother was pretty hysterical when she called here, too. But, I finally got her to calm down and tell me what happened. She wants you to meet her flight at Moisant tonight. Then she wants you to drive her to the coast and meet up with Trish. From there, they want you to take them all to Karen's for the baby's funeral," he explained concisely.

It suddenly hit me that there would be a funeral, but it would be a funeral with only one small casket. I was swept with a feeling of relief that I wouldn't be attending a mass funeral for my entire family; only the baby, the most precious and beautiful little boy I had ever laid eyes on. There were feelings of relief, then grief, and a massive wall of guilt that descended upon me.

From that point, I recovered from the shock within a couple of hours. I returned phone calls, first to my mother to confirm the plans, then to Jon who choreographed every step of the next few days for me. Originally, Jon had planned to drive my mother and I, but in the end, I convinced him I was capable of driving us all safely where we needed to go.

Bob offered to take my children while I was out of town. That also was unnecessary. Roger remained in the city and he took care of my girls while I was gone. Jon, Ivan, Sonny and Bob all contributed to funding not only the expenses for the trip, but they covered my lost wages for the week I was away as well.

The loss of my nephew was tragic. Karen never fully recovered from her loss. I don't think any of us did. But, my grief was buffered at least temporarily by the outpouring of love I received from my New Orleans family; four men who loved me enough to stand by me through the worst of times.