Jack
They sit stunned by Jen’s news. The emergency meeting, the fact that both Leila and I look like shit, and the tension that could have been cut with a knife makes sense to them now. As they all slept obliviously happy in their rooms, grief from the incomprehensible way Paula decided to handle her illness was plaguing us only a few doors down. Glancing from face to face, it’s evident how badly this is affecting them as well.
“I’m leaving it up to you. It’s your call,” Jen voices, bringing me back to her speech. “The studio feels the same and will support whatever you decide.”
“Give us a few to discuss it,” I reply with no emotion whatsoever.
Jen nods, “Okay. I have some phone calls to make. I’ll be back.” She saunters out of the holding room and closes the door behind her. The five of us sit watching the door, as if she’ll be returning at any moment.
“What do you guys want to do?” I ask, making eye contact with Hunter first.
As he opens his mouth to answer, Leila interrupts, “We cancel. She was part of our family. We’ll return at the tail end to give them their three nights.” Leila sits by herself in the corner. When she speaks, her voice is hoarse and raw.
“I agree. You?” I ask, looking from Hunt to Scott to Trey. They all nod wordlessly.
My wife, while still staring into space adds, “Paula was cremated. She wants her ashes sprinkled at Shane’s favorite park once we get back. While here, I’d like to have a memorial for her, even though we will have another at home to honor her wishes.”
“We will, Babe. I’ll have Jen set it up.”
“Lei, are you okay?”
She shifts her focus to Hunter, her expression still blank and void of all emotion. “I’ll be fine,” she responds with a touch of annoyance.
“I couldn’t even imagine what Paula was feeling to make such a final, horrific decision. Would I even have the courage to do what she did? I’m not so sure I would…I’m not so sure I do.” Scott says what he’s thinking out loud.
In a flurry Leila stands and points a finger at him, “Don’t you dare judge her! You’re right. You have no idea what she was feeling, what she was forced to endure. I held that little boy all morning as he cried for his mommy. It was hell. I still don’t fault her for what she did. Because I’m the one who gets to wipe his tears, hold him, love him, and see him grow up. So, none of us have the right to judge her!” She storms out of the room and slams the door behind her.
Scott looks mortified, immediately apologizing to me, “I didn’t mean it that way.” He stands to follow her, but I stop him with a steady hand on his shoulder.
“Let her be. Give her time. She’s dealing with her own anger and isn’t handling it well.” Scott faces me, clearly lost as to what he should do. “You can talk to her later. Let her be,” I repeat.
He releases a weighted sigh while shaking his head. “She misunderstood.”
“She’ll realize that once she calms down.”
After a few awkward seconds, Hunter says, “Jack, go check on her.”
It takes a few minutes for me to find my wife. After checking several of the dressing rooms backstage, I finally find her sitting in one of the seats in the dark arena. She lifts her head as I approach, but doesn’t look my way.
“Is he mad?”
I take a seat beside her, turning slightly so I can see her shadowed face. She continues to stare straight ahead, refusing to meet my gaze. “He’s worried that he upset you.”
“I really handled that badly.”
It’s more of a statement than a question. Either way, I disagree with her. “Lei, you handled it as most would. Stop beating yourself up.” I wait until she finally looks at me. “Babe, you aren’t talking to me. You’re keeping it all in. It’s eating at you. You haven’t cried.”
“I’m too mad.”
“It’s okay to be mad at her. You don’t have to feel guilty because you do.” I take her hand in mine, bringing it to my lips for a soft kiss. It’s the first time she allows me to touch her intimately. “Babe, you don’t have to defend her decision if you are struggling with it yourself.”
She pulls her hand away, annoyed once again. “I’m not mad at Paula. I’m defending her because it needs to be done. I’m mad at…” She stops speaking, looking bewildered and lost.
“Who? Tell me.”
“I’m mad at the situation! I’m mad at God. I’m mad at Jen for not successfully talking her out of it. I’m mad we get to have Shane and live happily ever after. I’m mad that everyone who hears her story is going to judge her.” The tears finally come. Sobs wrack her body as she struggles to control herself. “I don’t have the right to be angry,” she adds in a voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m angry as well. I’m angry my wife is being ripped apart, snapped in half from her conflicting emotions. I’m angry you won’t lean on me, or let me comfort you. I’m angry you feel you have to carry this all by yourself.”
She finally looks at me, stunned by my admission.
I physically place her on my lap, forcing her to accept my touch. It’s always been enough for her when words wouldn’t help. After we spoke to Shane, she completely withdrew. I understand. Telling that little boy his mother is no longer going to hold him will forever be etched in my memory. I’ll never forget one single detail of that horrible task. It drained us completely of whatever we had left. But where I craved her for comfort, she pulled away from me. Her distance since this morning is torturing me.
“Please, Baby. Talk to me.” Her fingers grip my T-shirt in desperation as I stroke her back, kiss her hair, and hold her tight. She buries her face so forcibly into my chest, I worry she can’t breathe. “Please, don’t shut me out. I need you. We need each other.”
“I do need you.”
“I’m here. Always.” She continues to cry into my chest, finally releasing the load she’s been carrying. Once there’s nothing left, she composes herself. I hold her face in my hands, drying her damp cheeks with a stroke of my thumbs. She continues to pull in shaky, cleansing breaths as she stares intently into my eyes.
“I love you. We’re a team. We will deal with it, handle it, and figure it all out together. Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“Want to go see our kids now?”
She nods and says, “After I apologize to Scott.”
“Okay.” A pat on her ass tells her we will do that now. I’ll walk with her hand in hand to face our band together. They are also hurting, and we’ll be sure to let them know we are all in the same boat. We are all finding our own way to figure this out and learn how to accept it and deal with it. Until we do, it’s not going to be easy. Yet, it’s still nothing compared to what Paula had to face.
That fact needs to be reminded and repeated as many times as necessary.
When I slowly open the door to the room where they wait, the conversation halts instantly. Jen has returned, and they all look to us expectantly. My wife walks straight to Scott, wrapping her arms around him. He hugs her back, shushing her as she mumbles an apology. He rocks her back and forth, murmuring things into her ear that no one else can hear. She nods at his words and finally breaks a smile.
When they separate, Jen says, “The guys filled me in. I already spoke to the studio. All three London shows will be added to the end of the tour.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“While we are here, we’d like to have a memorial for Paula. Can you arrange that?”
“Absolutely,” she responds without hesitation. “I’ll get started on that.” She walks over to Leila and gives her an awkward hug. “Anything you need, please call me.”
Leila meets my eyes over Jen’s shoulder. “I will. Thank you, Jen.”
Jen pats my wife’s arm affectionately and quickly disappears from the room. It happened so fast that if you blinked you would have missed the humanity she displayed.
“Wow, that’s new,” Leila blurts out, breaking the stunned silence.
I can’t help but laugh at the look on her face. Once I do, she let’s out a giggle and shrugs. And just like that, I know she’ll be fine.
With each day that passed, Leila became more of herself. She still had her moments, though. At times, no matter what I tried, I couldn’t snap her out of it. The best cure for her erratic emotions was the kids. They were the only thing that brought that light back into her eyes. She asked me to forgive her many times over. It hurt to hear her asking that of me. There was nothing to forgive. There’s also nothing I can do except to keep reminding her she’s not alone and I’m standing right beside her.
We had an emotional memorial for Paula. Leila felt it was important for Shane to attend. She wanted him to witness how many were touched by his mom. He needed to know she was part of our family. It was short, but meaningful…just like her time with us.
Jen gave a lovely eulogy. Leila arranged a slide show of all the pictures Paula included in the box. Some forced a small smile from Shane as he watched image after image on the large screen. My wife sang Be Not Afraid. Her beautiful voice carried through the chapel, moving everyone to tears. Shane sat beside me, staring at the ground. My heart squeezed painfully every time I looked down at him. I rationed this is normal, this mourning, this is necessary. I offered my hand and was surprised when he fit his tiny hand in mine. Leila is normally the only person he shows any signs of affection to.
Afterwards, Shane was very quiet. We found him sitting on his bed, hugging a pillow. We spent that evening letting the kids call all the shots from what to have for dinner to what movie we should all watch together. We camped out in the living room, with tents and sleeping bags included. His mood improved, but he was not the same Shane. I don’t know what I expect. I guess if we are able to give him even a few fleeting moments of happiness to forget, with time they’ll swell and multiply.
The twins are obsessed with Shane. Prior to Paula’s passing, Shane had assumed the role of big brother to them. Since he lost his mother, he’s not as patient as he once was. We noticed when Leila is holding Madden or Siarra, or when she is caring for them in any way, he becomes distant and quiet. I’ve been handling the twins so Leila can focus on Shane. When he stands at the foot of our bed each night looking lost and sad, Leila scoops him up and holds him for hours. He mentions Paula often, sometimes forgetting she’s gone. He’s clingy around Leila, especially when around others.
One night after the kids were all asleep, she voiced her concerns. He clearly is substituting Paula with my wife. She wants to console him in any way she can, and most of the time he wants to hide away in a corner without interaction. We worry that will cause more problems and further enable him. He’s such a personable boy. By allowing him to retreat within himself, his social skills will suffer, so will his self esteem.
We called my sister the next day, asking for her advice on how to best handle him. She said we shouldn’t be concerned with his behavior. She suggested we get back to normal as soon as possible. Resuming a normal routine is key to his healing process. Besides keeping him busy, it will help him better acclimate to his role in our family.
Normal isn’t possible while traveling around the world on a rock tour. He’s going to have many phases of adjustment. He’s young and he’ll adapt. The best we can do is to ensure we are there for him each time he is faced with more change.
For example, after London we had quick stops in Ireland and Sweden. The short stays and resuming our rehearsal schedule had us all busy and occupied with very little down time. My wife was being pulled in every direction. Beverly and Patti did all they could to keep the twins and Shane busy. Patti has been a godsend. Shane’s slowly responding to her, letting her in bit by bit. Trey remains one of his favorite people. My friend has been fucking awesome trying to find time to practice with Shane every day.
Establishing a routine for Shane is also benefiting the rest of us. I’m finding that time does heal, as does living with purpose. Having a specific purpose in life is the best coping mechanism. I know every time I look at Shane I’ll think of Paula. Resuming my life and giving her son only the best in life is my way of justifying her death.
The door to the kids’ rooms slowly opens. Shane hesitantly walks out of the room, stopping when he sees me.
“Hey, buddy. You okay?”
He nods, his feet frozen to the ground.
I pat the seat beside me. He sniffles once and walks over to where I’m sitting. “Did Leila finish reading the bedtime story?”
“I hate that book.” He frowns, crossing his arms to emphasize his anger.
“Okay. You can stay out here with me. Do you want me to read you something else?”
A quick shake of his head is all I get. I ask him a few more questions, but he sits beside me, refusing to talk. The familiar tightening takes hold of my chest. How can I reach him and show him I’m here, no matter what?
An idea pops into my head. Hoping it works, I retrieve my laptop and ask, “Shane, have you watched any of the concerts you played in?”
He looks up at me and shakes his head slowly.
“Would you like to? You did such a great job.”
He shrugs, giving me a glimmer of hope this may work.
I boot up the footage of his performances, stealing sideways glances as I do. He leans forward slightly, waiting for the video to start. Once it does, his eyes widen and his mouth gapes open adorably. He watches the entire thing, barely blinking as he does. When the video ends, he looks up at me and asks, “Can you play that again?”
“Absolutely, dude.” I start it from the beginning. A few seconds in he points to the screen, “That’s called a riff.”
“Really? How do you know that?”
“Trey told me,” he responds without looking away from the video of him and his idol jamming on stage.
Leila joins us during viewing number four. She leans against the doorway, watching in awe. Each time he watches, he gives me another fun fact, or a thought that ran through his head at the time he was on stage. He’s chattering away, saying more than he has in days. Music is what brought him to us. Music is what will bring him back.
Leila stands rooted, unable to move. It’s almost as if she’s afraid to ruin the moment or stop him from being Shane. When the video ends again, he finally tears his eyes away from the laptop.
“I really am good,” he admits arrogantly.
“I told you, dude. You’re really good. When you get older, you’re going to be one of the best bass players I’ve ever seen.”
“I know,” he nods, agreeing wholeheartedly.
“Hey, Shane. I don’t think Leila has watched this yet. Do you mind if we show her?”
He glances at my wife, “Leila, you have to see this. It’s so cool.”
She smiles wide, “Of course, I absolutely have to see it!” She sits beside Shane, and he leans into her subconsciously. She gently wraps an arm around him, looking over at me with the same wide smile. I throw her a wink, a confirmation that he’ll be okay. With time, he’ll be okay.