Chapter 10

Not many issues took priority over Mike’s efforts on the field during the season. That night, however, Lisa didn’t care how many videos Mike had to study, she couldn’t keep Emily’s revelations to herself.  When the house was quiet, she left her own prep work for the next day’s history classes on the dining room table and joined him in the living room. 

“Can you pause it, Mike?”

His eyebrows rose; he waited a few seconds and complied. “What’s up?”

“It’s Emily.” She filled him in and prayed he’d have an idea.

“You want me to talk to her?”

“What would you say?”

Shrugging, he replied, “Don’t know. I’d go with my gut. See what she says, how she looks, try to figure out what she doesn’t say. You know—I’d do what I always do. Observe and follow my instincts.”

Her nails dug into her palms. Maybe Mike’s way was what they needed. But maybe he’d be caught off guard and blow it. She preferred a more measured approach, planning for all possibilities. 

“What’s your schedule tomorrow night? Maybe we can both have sort of a casual chat with her and see what’s up.”

He reached for her hand. “Easy, baby. I’ll be home by six. Let’s do it.”

But he didn’t get home at six. Or seven. Lisa checked the time every five minutes as she went about the usual evening routines until Jen looked up from her homework and called her a jumping jack. Lisa didn’t mind. Her teenage sister was maturing before her eyes. In Woodhaven, Jen had wanted to be with friends half the time. In Boston, she seemed content to stay home. Hmm…and maybe help Lisa stand guard over the family...?   

“How was your day, Jen? Everything okay?”

Jen emitted a chuckle. “You’re always asking that. I suppose it’s because something’s always going wrong with one of us. But I’m fine. And next year will be better, ’cause I’ll be in college. All the students will be new.”

“Absolutely. I’m sorry your senior year isn’t as special as it should be. It’s got to be hard trying to find friends this late in the game.”

Jen shrugged it off. “I don’t care so much anymore. My mind’s on the goal. I’ve got to get this high school diploma, and then the next part of my life will begin.” Her mouth twisted, her skin blotched. “I-I want them to be proud of me, too.”

Lisa’s breath caught in her throat as her sister’s vulnerability lay open and raw. Jen had confided in her, trusted her. Lisa stroked the girl’s cheek. “They’d be so proud of you now, honey, Dad’s buttons would pop.”

The teen remained quiet for a moment. “Lisa…I’m going to fill out college applications this month. What if I don’t get any scholarships? Where are we getting the money for college?”

Lisa squeezed Jen’s hand. “We’ll find it, Jen. You can live at home if you’re admitted to one of the Boston schools. And with some loans and work-study programs, it will work out. I did it, and you can too.”

Jen didn’t look convinced. “But if it doesn’t work out, if I can’t get enough—and you know these schools are more expensive than Woodhaven State—do you think maybe Mike would chip in?”

Just what she didn’t want. And how did this evening, which was supposed to be about Emily, morph into a Jennifer time? Sighing, Lisa had to agree with Jen’s comment: there was always something going on with one of them.

“As Mom would say, ‘Let’s not borrow trouble.’”

She checked the time again. Emily’s turn would come tomorrow. Hopefully. If Mike ever got himself home when he promised. 

#

He was doing the best he could, considering the season was on! Every day of the week led up to game day, and every day of the week was important. Whether it was stretching, lifting, or aerobic activities, he couldn’t skimp on any of them. Drills, drills, and more drills. The team that won was often the team in better condition.  Then add group meetings, analyzing videos of opposing team plays, reviewing their own playbook, taking apart the opponents’ skills and discovering flaws. Not a minute went to waste, but Lisa didn’t get it. Maybe she didn’t believe it. And that puzzled him. She used to understand everything about the game, including what went on behind the scenes. Maybe she didn’t care anymore.

But tonight, he’d be home on time. As promised. And after this big pow-wow about Emily, he’d watch the NY Jets’ latest game. He’d be flying to New York on Saturday to play them in the Meadowlands on Sunday. He needed to be ready.

He pulled into the garage and let himself into the hall near the kitchen. A delicious aroma had him salivating. The table was being set by the boys, while Lisa, Jen, and Emily were doing things at the counter. 

He blinked. And for a moment, he was a hundred miles away, a lifetime ago. Back in Grace’s kitchen, everyone busy, everyone chatting. Family time.

“Hi, family.”

And then they were on him. The boys, Emily, a wave from Jen. And Lisa’s smile, those violet eyes warm and…relieved. The picture in his mind’s eye shifted. This was Lisa’s kitchen, not Grace’s. He had to remember that.

Jen glanced at the clock. “You lose, Lis.”

“Shush.”

But Jen grinned and kept talking. “She bet me you wouldn’t be home on time. But I knew you would.”

He studied his wife. “You bet against me?”

“You were late yesterday,” said Lisa. “But I’m glad you’re here now. So, let’s get started.”

A conversation to be continued. She didn’t believe he had her back. Or that he rarely made the same mistake twice. She should know better. He washed his hands and sat in his usual seat, across from Lisa, at the head of the table. On this night, his gaze paused on each person, each one quiet now, looking at him. Waiting. For what? He wasn’t Robbie. Couldn’t sing, couldn’t tell stories. Didn’t know how to be Robbie Delaney if he tried. But…he led a fifty-three-person team. A warmth glided through him as he took in the tableau. 

“Who wants to say grace?”

“Me!” Emily jumped to her feet and plopped back down.

“We see you, Em,” said Mike, enjoying a wholehearted chuckle. “And we hear you.” Lisa’s mouth hung open. Her baby sister, who barely spoke at the beginning, had surprised her.

“Thank you, God, for our food,” began Emily. “And for blessing Mommy and Daddy in Heaven, and Mike and Lisa, and God bless Jen and Andy and Brian. And God Bless Ms. Merriweather, who lets me talk to Mommy. Just like this.” 

Without a moment’s hesitation, she stood next to her chair, closed her eyes, and began singing “Amazing Grace” right through two verses before saying, “Amen.”

Mike’s eyes sought Lisa’s, but she stared at her sister, her expression grave. Around the table, he heard sniffles, saw tears. 

“That was beautiful, Emily,” said Mike. “You’re a real Delaney. But I think our food’s a bit cold. So everyone, it’s time to dig in.”

The sounds of family noise took over. Maybe a bit loud at first, but then settling into a norm. Mike sighed with relief. Classic interception.

#

“So tell us more about Ms. Merriweather,” said Mike, jiggling the child on his lap. Lisa sat on the blue sofa they’d brought from home, trying to seem relaxed for Emily’s sake. But she pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling, a familiar habit he’d recently observed. 

The boys were helping Jen clean the kitchen, and he’d suggested that they take their time. Jen’s eyes had narrowed, but she glanced at her two sisters and nodded, promising to keep the boys busy. She’d caught on quickly, and Mike had given her a thumbs-up.

And now he and Lisa were alone with Emily.  “Is Ms. Merriweather taking over from Ms. Sullivan?” he asked. An innocent icebreaker.

“Oh, no,” said Emily. “Ms. Merri is a music teacher. She said to call her Ms. Merri. It’s a word joke, and it’s so funny.” Her eyes shone as she relayed the classroom event, and Mike wished she could be as happy every day.

“So I smiled at her, and she smiled at me.” Emily’s version might take three hours, but if he prodded, Lisa would kill him.

“And then what happened?” asked Lisa.

Ah-h. He had an ally.

Emily jumped from Mike’s lap, eyes wide. “Ms. Merri had a violin. And she put it here,” she said, touching her chin, “and played it. And you know what? The whole room was filled with music. Beautiful music.” Emily twirled around the room, stopped, tilted her head, and pretended to play the instrument.

“I knew so many songs like from The Sound of Music. Remember, we watched it a thousand times? Hmm…maybe not you, but Mommy and I watched it a thousand times.” She hummed “Do-Re-Mi.”  “And I was Ms. Merri’s conductor, like in an orchestra.” She waved her arms in time to her song.

“Today was the best day in school so far. And then…and then…” she leaned toward them and whispered, “it happened.”

Watching Emily rivaled watching a stage play. Except Em wasn’t acting. She was feeling it. Feeling every word she spoke and remembered. “What happened, Em?”

“‘Amazing Grace’! Mommy’s song. Ms. Merri played Mommy’s song even though Mommy told Daddy not to be silly, and it wasn’t her song. But he said, ‘Gracie, you’re amazing!’ And…and I almost couldn’t breathe. Ms. Merri couldn’t see me because her eyes were closed, and the bow kept moving across the strings.”

Emily darted to her sister and jumped onto Lisa’s lap. Mike joined them on the sofa. “You did a great job, Emily. That was a big story to tell.”

The child peeked up at him. “I think Ms. Merri was following her heart. She closed her eyes and followed her heart. And…and then I walked to her and sang with her violin. To the very last word, just like I sang with Mommy.”

She patted Lisa’s cheek. “Mommy was talking to me, Lisa, and I talked back to her.”

Twisting in Lisa’s arms, she looked at Mike. “I told Ms. Merri that I wanted to play the violin with her, and she said I could. Other kids, too. I brought home a paper about it.”

“Is she giving violin lessons?” he asked.

“Uh-huh. In school. Do we have enough money for that? ’Cause I want to play Mommy’s song and talk to her. Just Mommy and me. Don’t you think the music floats all the way to Heaven?”

He’d majored in the sciences in college, could explain string vibrations and sound waves and distance traveled. But had never measured or considered measuring the number and length of sound waves needed to reach the place called Heaven.

“I think,” he said slowly, “that anything is possible.” He glanced at Lisa, raised his brow. “Including an extra visit to Dr. Julie.”

A hundred visits if it helped. Not that he felt magnanimous, but Em’s issues were beyond him. And if his wife were honest, they were beyond Lisa, too. Each one of them, he was starting to understand, had to deal with the unthinkable. Now he saw the effects in real life, not theory. For the rest of their days on earth, each child’s story would begin with: My parents died when I was seven. My parents died when I was nine. Sixteen. Twenty-two.

He studied Lisa and Emily, gazed toward the kitchen and pictured Jen, Andy, and Brian. Beautiful people. Horrific tragedy. He’d do what he could for them, but for the first time, he wondered if he were up to the job.