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I smiled. “Hi Andrew.”
“Jada,” he returned and looked away.
Based on his reaction, I didn’t ask any further questions.
Now, Shane is out of the hospital and on probation. He’s been assigned a probation officer in San Diego.
Adele connected Roger with Dr. Lexington and strings were pulled and Sienna is in a similar program to Shane in California.
Apparently she’s doing well in that program.
There were mixed feelings about helping her, but it’s what Austin’s mother wanted, so everyone agreed.
I donated most of Dad’s stuff. I got his furniture taken to the dump, but felt conflicted about that recliner of his. He loved that chair, but it was in rough shape.
All my father’s tools went to his classic car buddy Walter. His cigar humidor and a few of his models (he built model cars when my parents were still together) I dropped at the bar and Frank put them up on a shelf over the bar with a picture of my father. I saved a few models for Shane; in case he wants them.
We drive an hour and a half before stopping and I rent us adjoining motel rooms near the lake.
And after burgers and laughs, we hang out and talk. We talk a lot. And I feel like I’m getting to know a new version of my brother, a version that gives me a lot of hope for his future.
I wind up falling asleep in his room on one bed and he crashes on the other.
I’m woken up in the morning with my hand in warm water and my brother laughing as I make a mad dash for the bathroom.
He’s always loved waking me up in annoying ways.
After breakfast, we take our parents’ urns to a spot near a weeping willow right beside the water before things open up into a rocky beach.
Now that we’re here, I have a memory of tiptoeing through the rocks to swim as a little kid and cutting my foot on a shard of green glass. The memory becomes vivid as I stand under the tree, staring at the rocky shoreline. Dad got the glass out while Mom dried my tears and Shane made funny faces behind her, trying to get me to laugh so I wouldn’t cry.
It’s a windy day, so we sit and talk with the urn lids off. We talk about some of the positive things we remember about both our parents and it doesn’t take long for the wind to stir up dust from both urns.
We watch, quietly as the dust seems to come together and swirl into a faint cloud. Not a large one, not a very defined one, but for sure – it’s obvious some of their ashes mingle.
“Bye Dad. I love you. Bye Mom. Love you, too. Hope you’re in a happier place, that Lala Land is awesome, and that Dad likes it there, too,” I say softly.
Shane says nothing. His shoulders are slumped and his eyes are pointed to the urns.
He takes Mom’s urn and I take Dad’s and we quietly empty them into the water, watching some of the sand rise up with the wind and some of it settle to the rocks. I see a piece of broken green glass down in the rocks, too. The same piece of glass from so many years ago? Not likely. But it sure looks the same.
“You okay?” I ask my brother.
He nods and puts his arms around me.
“This still hurts,” I say. “But I’m glad I have you here.”
“I’m glad I’m here, too, Jayjay.”
A ladybug lands on my engagement ring then and I smile, looking at it.
“Look,” I say to Shane.
“Mom used to call you ladybug,” he says.
She did.
“Yeah. I always felt like they were lucky. I don’t think one has ever landed on me before.”
It flies from me to him, landing on his shoulder.
“Maybe I’ve got luck now, too,” Shane says and then he smiles before he asks me for my manicure kit. I pass it to him and he removes the nail file so he can carve our initials as well as Mom’s and Dad’s into the tree.
It takes a while before he rises and dusts his jeans off.
“Let’s go. I’m ready for that California life.” He takes the bug from his shoulder to his finger and puts it on the tree.
I rented Shane a furnished apartment twenty minutes from us. I told him I’ll pay his bills for a while with the money from Dad’s house while he gets on his feet. He doesn’t want any vast sums of money in his account, lest he get tempted. Austin got him a job interview for the mail room at Carmichael Consulting. He says he wants the job for now, that he’s interested in higher education and wants to consider night school after he gets settled.
We’re taking a road trip with Dad’s Mustang to California, where I’ll then be hitting publish on my first book. It’s the Austin Smut File, revised a little. I haven’t given it a new title yet, but I’ve been hoping a better title than The Austin Smut File comes to me on the trip.
