Captured Words and Deeds

  When Phil left for New York in early September 2001, it was for a short trip. His fourth album had spawned two top ten hits, and he was making the rounds; Good Morning America on Thursday the sixth, The David Letterman Show on Monday the tenth. He was flying home on the eleventh, a straight early morning shot from Newark to San Francisco. Crystal hadn’t been pleased for his departure, but the album had done so well, she hadn’t wished to deter him. He was heading into the studio in October, and this brief promotional tour would start the recording off with a bang.

  Phil didn’t like being away from his family and had left copious messages with everyone, even contacting Crystal’s brothers. On Sunday evening, he called his wife, needing to hear her voice. All he had to do was play one song and chat with David Letterman tomorrow. Then on Tuesday morning he would head west, not planning another long sojourn until the girls could accompany. JJ and Ingie were in school, eight and six years old. Marisa spent three days a week at playgroup, but Phil hated being away from them, and spent over an hour talking to all those females. Then he called Julia, speaking with her for a few minutes. By the time he got off his phone it was ten Eastern Time. Phil plugged in the cell to charge overnight. Then he undressed, got into bed, and fell right to sleep.

  At two a.m. he woke, needing to pee. Afterwards he wrote his wife an email, his laptop providing the only light in the room. As he had stumbled into the bathroom, family photos had flashed: his wife, his daughters, Julia, Liz, and Diane. All the kids over various holidays and birthdays, and as he lay back down, waiting for the screensaver to kick in, Phil considered how precious his existence was. Years ago it had seemed so bleak; at one point he had nearly taken his life. As he looked up, Crystal’s face filled the laptop’s screen, and Phil blinked away tears. He hated sleeping alone, the bed huge, cold, and lonely. In two days he would be in New Jersey, boarding a United Airlines jet, the whole of America zipping under his feet to return to the only woman who mattered. Phil would always love Julia, and he adored his daughters, but he ached over Crystal. All Phil wanted was to go home.

  Monday was a day full of taxis and some forced smiles. Taping the Letterman slot was actually enjoyable; using Stan’s old guitar, Phil performed his recent hit and one of his father’s classics. Unbeknownst to Phil, David Letterman was a huge Stan Gideon fan, and with unusual joy Phil sang his dad’s song. Now father and son could stand side by side, or tune by tune. As he left in yet another taxi, Phil grinned, more at ease than in ages.

  The last two years had been rough, what with Chuck on his last legs. Yet he had surprised everyone, still coughing, still breathing, and in the hospital for much of it. He seemed unwilling to die, spiting Claire and Arthur, Phil said to Julia when she brought it up. She hadn’t spoken to her grandparents, and Phil was so proud of her, as occasionally Claire left Julia a nasty message. Phil and Julia were never sure if Claire had checked her machine on New Year’s Eve 1999, but it didn’t matter anymore. Julia didn’t care what they said, had started writing in 2000. When Phil left for New York, she told him she had a surprise for his return. She had been cagey for weeks, then giggly, much like Phil’s daughters. JJ, Ingie, and Marisa were a tight trio and the boys had grown wary of those females, a pack that Abe, Carl, Flynn, and Jude couldn’t crack. Abe and JJ were still close, but Ingie now gravitated more to Flynn, having finally ceased biting him. Jude and Marisa often played together, leaving Carl somewhat on the edge. Lately Phil had felt that way with Julia, but he had an idea why, and in another day he would learn the reason. If she had actually finished her novel, better for her to announce the news.

  Phil ordered room service, then checked his flight; he would depart Newark at eight in the morning, reaching San Francisco around eleven a.m. Pacific Time. He would be turned around for a day, but it would be an easy adjustment; all he needed were moments alone with his wife, cuddles with his girls, and a few pertinent words from Julia. I finished the novel Gideon was what he expected, easier for her to use his last name for something so colossal. She would employ Phil later, when they spoke of how many years it had taken her, and maybe tears would follow after he read it. Phil had told her he wanted to read it, didn’t give a shit if she cared or not. He was going to savor every single word.

  But not until he had ravished Crystal. As he finished dinner, he picked up his phone. He wanted to hear her voice, wanted to listen to their children in the background, all clamoring for a minute of Daddy’s time. Phil would give them plenty of his attention, but on Tuesday evening, JJ, Ingie, and Marisa would be tucked into bed early, allowing Phil and Crystal all the minutes necessary to reconnect. Maybe some moves on the sofa, in case any of the girls needed to see Daddy before they fell asleep. Phil would prefer to fool around on the couch, then once steady breaths were noted, the deep breathing could begin. Phil had never been apart this long from his family, from his wife. All he wanted was to love her.

  “Hey honey, it’s me. Just wanted to call, say hi, tell you I love you. Hope you and the girls are having fun. I just ate dinner, a room service burger, pretty crappy. Gonna take you and the girls out every night this week! Baby, tomorrow, I’ll see you tomorrow Crystal. Give the girls lots of kisses!”

  That she wasn’t around didn’t surprise him; Crystal spent time with her parents, with Julia, or she was at the hospital visiting Chuck. Phil smiled, then looked at the room. His bag was packed, the cell phone was charging. All he had to do was wait for morning.

  Again at two he woke, but this time he had no desire to urinate. Phil was physically ill, and he ran to the bathroom, but couldn’t puke. He sat on the toilet, then put his hand on his brow. His forehead felt clammy, his stomach was in knots; the damned burger he railed, then he stood from the seat. He stuck a finger down his throat, trying to bring it up. Nothing happened, and he went back to bed, looking at the screensaver. Crystal flashed in three straight pictures. Then Phil stared at his phone.

  It was eleven there, too late to call her. His stomach rolled, then he felt dizzy. If this lasted, no way could he fly in six hours. For as much as Phil wanted to go home, there was no way in hell he could get on a plane feeling this awful.

  He inhaled slowly, trying to calm his stomach. Photos of the girl passed; JJ’s wide green eyes were like a field in summer, Ingie’s soft blue irises so much like her mother’s. Marisa’s green was subdued, but her wide grin gnawed at Phil’s heart. He inhaled, then felt hit by a bolt, but not in his gut. Three words flashed in his head, a message Phil couldn’t ignore. Exhaling, he felt no qualms in his belly, but that missive still pounded: Change your flight. Phil shook his head, but it remained: Change your flight.

  Then Julia stared at him, her carefree face maybe twenty-two or twenty-three years old, before she had met Ray, before Claire and Arthur’s damage had ruined a part of her, before Sunshine had done the same to Phil. Change your flight. Phil blinked, felt fine. He was fine, could fly home that day. Then a photo of Crystal appeared, and Phil gasped. She looked pensive; he wasn’t sure when that picture had been taken. She seemed even younger than Julia, like a teenager. At nineteen, Crystal had known suffering, also a voice. Phil sat up, crawling to the edge of the bed. Then he stood, going back to that image of his wife. Maybe the photo was before she’d had the abortion, or maybe right afterwards. But it was from a time when her life had been shitty, then altered. Change your flight. Phil didn’t want to; it was the very last thing he desired. Why spend another day in New York when everyone was waiting in California?

  Change your flight. Phil stared at his phone on the bedside table. If he called now, maybe. Probably. How hard would it be to move it forward one day? He needed just one more twenty-four-hour period in this damned city. Phil grabbed his cell, unplugged it, then he returned to the laptop. Gripping, then shaking, the mouse, he stopped the pictures. Opening a new tab, he searched for United Airlines. Phil would spend another day on the East Coast and while Julia would bitch and his daughters wouldn’t understand, all Phil would need to share with his wife was that
voice. Crystal wouldn’t say a thing.

  “Hey honey, Crystal? Wake up! Shit baby, please pick up! I changed my flight, I sent you an email, but honey, oh Christ Crystal, I’m not flying home today. Baby, there’s been a huge disaster here in New York, but I am not flying today. I’m still here, at the hotel. Crystal, baby, planes have hit the World Trade Center towers, one hit the Pentagon, and mine, oh Jesus Crystal, mine went down in a field in Pennsylvania. But baby, I’m not on it, I’m still here, in New York. Probably gonna be here a while, they’ve grounded all flights. Crystal, baby, I love you. Honey, I’m okay and I love you. I’ll explain everything, oh baby! I’ll tell you everything when we talk.”

  “Phil, fucking Jesus Christ! I just saw the pictures, God, I’m so glad the boys are at school. Ray and I are sitting here, we can’t fuckin’ believe it! Phil, I read your email, about changing your flight, and thought what an asshole. But now, oh my God, I can’t, I can’t, oh shit. Here Ray, you talk to him.”

  “Phil, they’re saying it’s gonna come down, the first tower’s not gonna stay upright. Shit Phil, we’ll talk to you soon. Call us, okay? Bye.”

  “Phil? It’s Lee. I just heard from Julia, I imagine you’re talking to Crystal right now. Phil, I, uh, I’ll tell Chuck, and we’ll see you when you get back honey. I love you Phil. Just, oh, thank God you changed your flight!”

  “Hey Julia, listen, I love you. It’s okay honey, I’m here and I’ll talk to you soon. Love you Penn!”

  “Phil? Listen, I, uh, finished it. Thought I better tell you now in case something else fucked-up happens. I finished the book Gideon, so you better get your ass home as soon as they let you. Phil, oh Jesus Phil…” Small sobs. “Please just come home, okay? I love you. I’ll, uh, see you soon. Bye.”

  “Hey Julia, oh baby, I knew it! Honey, that’s so good! I have no idea when they’ll be letting planes fly again, but as soon as I see you, expect a big fat hug! Listen, would you do something for me? When you see Crystal next, tell her how much I love her, tell I told you to tell her. She sounds, oh God, pretty screwed-up right now, not easy with the girls and everything, and I know Chuck’s, I mean, I heard from Lee. Just tell Crystal that I love her, okay? Julia, I’m so proud of you. Don’t let all that’s happening take anything away from that. You did it baby, you did it!”

  It took Phil over a week to get home, and when he arrived at the San Francisco International Airport, only his wife waited for him. Their daughters were in school, but even if they had been free, Phil and Crystal needed this moment, in which no others were necessary. Phil jogged from the gangway, searching the terminal, but when he saw her, he began to sprint, catching his small wife in his arms. Many groups huddled as families were reunited, a great toll underlining these gatherings. Days of separation had been difficult but Phil had dodged a bullet, and only by God’s grace did he and Crystal allow this togetherness. Phil should be dead alongside those who perished in Pennsylvania on Flight 93. Instead he again wrapped his wife close. Crystal kissed his face along his temples, Phil bent over her. As he pulled away, she touched the sides of his head, both in tears. “I love you,” she warbled.

  Phil nodded, wiping her face, then his. “You’re so beautiful.”

  “So are you.”

  He smiled, then kissed her. They were surrounded but Phil would have done the same no matter who was watching.

  They stood arm in arm waiting for his luggage, walking hand in hand reaching the BART terminal. Crystal hadn’t felt up to driving, and Phil didn’t mind how they got home. He wasn’t alone, she was with him. On the train they couldn’t talk openly, but better was the way he caressed her face, the manner in which she wouldn’t let him go. He wasn’t sure what she had told their daughters, what she might have said to Julia. All that mattered was that Phil had arrived in the Bay Area. As soon as they reached Berkeley, the couple could make love.

  That occurred practically as they stepped in the house; shades were drawn, the quiet a balm. Phil and Crystal stripped in the living room, groping nakedly as they reached their bedroom. She hadn’t made the bed, and they fell into it together, then Phil was inside her. Then they wept, coming over and over, Phil in her arms, Crystal atop him. Only after their third time did they finally speak any words more than names and moans.

  “I never want you to go away alone again.”

  “I never wanna leave you and the girls behind.”

  Crystal sat up, then kissed his nose. “What’d the voice sound like?”

  “Certain, very sure. Was it like that for you?”

  She nodded, then snuggled against him. “Phil, I’m so glad you listened.”

  “Me too baby. Me too.”

  While JJ and Abe grasped the destruction of the Towers, none of the kids comprehended what still stunned the adults. Grandparents accepted that Phil had been graced by providence. Crystal and Liz thought that Phil had heard a divine presence. The rest marveled that Phil had fallen ill on the eve of September eleventh. Phil didn’t say much other than he was a very lucky man.

  Then he smiled, toting Marisa, with Crystal stuck at his side. That night at the Gideon residence, all gave thanks in whatever manner they felt able, and by the end of the evening, Phil was talked out and ready to fall asleep next to his wife in their bed, under their roof, in Berkeley. At times over the last several days, Phil wasn’t sure he would ever see his home, these people, this city. It felt like a lasting treasure, his relatives the same.

  All year Chuck had been in the thoughts of most. He still was, even in his absence. After their marathon in bed, Phil and Crystal had collected Marisa from playgroup, then gone to see Julia’s father. Chuck had cried, Phil had too, and Phil would be there again tomorrow. Now that he was back on the West Coast, Phil had plans, some involving the daily routine of visiting Chuck. Some plans were being shuffled; the album he was ready to record would be postponed. Phil’s life had altered irrevocably, and nothing would ever be the same.

  He wanted to focus on Chuck, on Crystal, and their girls. He wanted to have another child, which Crystal had also considered. Instead of making music, Phil was going to see about reversing his vasectomy.

  He wanted to get Crystal pregnant, and he needed to read Julia’s book. Those two things would go hand in hand, Phil joked with his wife; he could read the manuscript while recovering. Then there was what he only spoke of with Crystal. He might or might not tell Julia; if she asked, he would talk. Eventually they would discuss what he thought about her novel, and of the reversal. That wouldn’t remain a secret, and maybe over time Phil’s assessment of why he had changed that flight would also fall under debate. But for now, he only wished to broach that revelation with the one who had experienced a similar notion. After all their guests were gone and the girls were in bed, Phil and Crystal sat in the living room. Phil didn’t want to close his eyes, wanted to imprint this place deep into his psyche. He had never felt so lost, then found, except for that day on the bridge. He laughed. “It’s like I was ready to jump all over again.”

  “I thought about that. I’ve never prayed so much as when I got your message. I mean, I knew the flight number, I’ll always know it. As soon as I got your message, it was like oh my God. You were so close, just like when you were gripping the railing.”

  He kissed her, then set his hands along her belly. “Baby, it was real, I swear to God it was real.”

  “I know Phil, I know.”

  Able to close his eyes, Phil relaxed as she settled against him. “Crystal, I, uh, where do I go from here?”

  “Wherever he leads you Phil.”

  “Is it always gonna be so spelled out?”

  She giggled. “No. But that’s okay. Mystery’s a good thing.”

  He nodded. “Baby, I love you. It feels like…”

  “What?”

  “Like I’ll always have you now. I mean, I knew I’d always be with you, here, on Earth.” He chuckled. “Two years ago Julia told me she wanted to believe in God because she wanted to meet my dad.” Phil inh
aled. “I thought that was sweet, you know, she can be so…”

  “Much like Chuck.”

  “Yeah, crusty but loveable.” Phil laughed, keeping his eyes closed. “Abe and Jude have softened both of them, but don’t tell her I said that.”

  “It’s true. I really wish she could’ve had her baby.”

  “Me too.” Phil opened his eyes. “But she’s got the boys, Ray, us.”

  “She believes Phil. She told me so while you were still in New York.”

  “Yeah?”

  “She said there had to be a God because you weren’t dead.”

  Crystal faltered with that last word. Phil gripped her, then kissed the back of her head. “Baby, life’s a funny thing.”

  “Yeah, it is. Phil?”

  “What?”

  “If it works, the reversal…”

  “Yeah?”

  “How many do you want?”

  Her tone was almost giddy, which made Phil smile. “I don’t know Crystal. How many do you want?”

  “We have the play room upstairs, could bunch the girls together up there, that’d open up lots of room down here.”

  Each of the girls had their own space, and Phil laughed. “Crystal, how many kids do you wanna have?”

  “I’m only thirty-seven.”

  “Thirty-eight in February.”

  “Don’t get nit-picky Phil.”

  “I want as many as…”

  “As many as I want?” she smiled.

  He reached for her temples, stroking her hairline, down to her cheeks. “As many as God wants to give us. Maybe none, maybe it won’t work.”

  “Maybe I’ll be nursing babies when I’m fifty.”

  “Maybe,” he laughed as she turned to face him. Phil was hard and Crystal kissed his mouth. Maybe another two, five, or ten, Phil considered as she moved over him, their clothes the only hindrance.

  In late September Marisa Gideon turned four. In early October Phil spent a morning under the knife. That afternoon he went home, walking slowly, sitting on the sofa with a printed copy of Julia’s manuscript. He would read her novel as his genitals recovered; Julia had worn a sly grin when he told her of why he wanted to wait for her book.

  “Are you shitting me?” she had said at Helen’s house. “You’re really gonna try to get it reversed?”

  This had occurred before Marisa’s party, but after Phil and Julia had spoken about their changes of heart. Julia was willing to gab all about finding God, but Phil was more circumspect, also how he was when telling her that he and Crystal were going to try for another baby.

  He consider those conversations as he read, trying to stay immobile. Ice packs eased the swelling, but the idea of sex made Phil wince. Yet, that desire would return, just as his mind had been changed. The idea of someone in complete control now seemed plausible, and it wasn’t even the memory of that voice in his head. Julia’s novel was spellbinding. It had taken her more than the twenty years Phil had known her, but Julia Penn had crafted a story worthy of her heritage.

  Phil read as Crystal changed ice packs and cared for the children. She didn’t complain, for this was temporary. After a week, Phil had finished Julia’s book and most of his convalescence. He now imagined sex with Crystal, but it was still another ten days before that could occur. They wouldn’t even think about making a baby until next spring, perhaps another year. Phil wouldn’t ponder that in detail, not with all that Julia had written spinning in his mind.

  “You need anything?” Crystal asked, sitting beside him on the sofa.

  He kissed her, then smiled. “She did it honey. She really did it.”

  “I knew she had it in her, just needed to get rid of the ghosts.”

  He nodded, then caressed his wife’s face. “Maybe just in time too.”

  Crystal’s eyes darted away. “I talked to Lee today.”

  “And?”

  “Chuck’s not going home this time.”

  “Oh Jesus!”

  Crystal looked up, tears falling. “Honey, maybe it was your flight, maybe he feels like he can leave, that we’re all gonna be okay.”

  Phil set his hand to where their daughters had rested. Then he moved to another place each of those girls had coveted; Crystal’s breasts were nondescript now, but maybe in another year, and Phil smiled. “Maybe honey, maybe you’re right.”

  “Phil, even if we don’t get pregnant, I can’t wait to try.”

  She giggled, would have normally reached for his groin. Instead she set her fingers along his temples. “Everything’s for some reason Phil, even the assholes.”

  “Even the assholes,” he whispered, hearing a bevy of footsteps descending the stairs. The girls shushed each other, unsure of just why Daddy had been laid low. Soon they would be quiet because their mama was sleeping. Phil knew few things for certain, but he held the proof of Julia’s handiwork, had to swallow the coming death of an ill man. And Phil chuckled, as his daughters surround the sofa, another baby, at least one. Maybe even a boy, Phil allowed, as three little girls grew giggly. Maybe now Phil could consider a son.

  “Hey Penn, we gotta talk. Call me, I’m sort of up and around these days. Loved the book by the way.”

  “Hey Gideon, I’ll ask Crystal just how up you are, ha ha. Yeah, gotta talk to you about, uh, novels. And reversals.” A small laugh. “Not that I’m getting my tubes untied, thank you very much. Only about certain considerations a rock and roller I know used to have about the man upstairs. And no, I don’t mean my obnoxious overhead neighbors. Call me back Gideon, if you dare.”

  “Hey Penn, I’ll be at Grandma’s this afternoon. If you’re feeling brave, stop by.”

  “Hey Crystal, it’s Julia. Is Phil there? I take it either he’s not there and you’re doing laundry alone, or he is there and the two of you are pretending to do laundry together. Talk to you later!”

  “Knock knock,” Julia said.

  “Come on in Poppy.”

  Phil sat on the sofa, no guitar near. “Where’s the instrument Gideon? What, playing hooky?”

  “Just needed some down time. How are you?”

  She sat beside him, pointing at his fly. “Down time huh? How long is it out of commission?”

  He laughed. “Another week, but God, it’s starting to get difficult.”

  “I’m just so glad you didn’t say hard.”

  “I knew you would,” he smiled.

  Julia giggled, looking around the room. “So, you’ll nail her in what, a week? When’s the baby due?”

  “Oh, we’re not counting that far ahead.” He squeezed her hand. “If we get lucky before JJ’s ten, I’ll be pleased.”

  Julia stared at him. “Shit Phil, that’s ages away.”

  “Some things take a long time Penn, good things at least.”

  “Oh yeah, uh-huh.” Julia nodded, then cleared her throat. “So Phil, what’d you think of the book?”

  He embraced her, needing to feel her as he spoke. “Julia Rose Penn, it’s one of the most gorgeous, indicative novels I have ever read.”

  “Indicative? Of what?”

  “Of you.”

  “How many books have you read Phil?”

  “Well, including yours, maybe five.”

  “Uh-huh. I knew I should’ve let Crystal read it first.”

  “Julia, do you know who wrote three of those novels?”

  “Who Phil?”

  “Your mother.”

  She trembled, why he had wanted to hold her. “Julia, it’s beautiful, witty, funny. It’s real Penn, you really did it.”

  “It’s for, it’s for my dad.”

  “I know. Are you gonna tell him?”

  “I dunno. Maybe if I wait long enough…”

  Phil let her pull away. Then he stroked her cheek. “He’ll never read it but I think you should tell him. Does he know about it?”

  Julia glared at him. “Everyone knows about it Phil.”

  “No, I mean, does he know it’s done?”

  “No.”

&
nbsp; “Why not?”

  “Because you nearly died Phil, shit!”

  “That was last month Penn.”

  “It’s every day to me.”

  Eternity filled the room the way Phil had watched his loved ones on the laptop. He could see Sunshine standing in the kitchen, slowly washing dishes. He could see Julia doing the same, then his grandmother. Now it was back to just Phil and Julia, and he gripped her. “Honey, I’m here. I’m not purposely going anywhere.”

  “Shit happens Phil. It happened to over three thousand people last month, it could happen to one of us today.”

  “All the more reason to tell him.”

  “Phil, I prayed for you.”

  “I, yeah. Crystal told me.”

  “When I read that you were coming home a day late, I was so pissed because I wanted to tell you about the book. Then I got your message, then I turned on the TV. Phil, it was like my life flashing, that could’ve been you. I could’ve been watching your life end. Plenty of others, oh Phil, I can’t, I can’t tell you…”

  “It’s okay honey, I’m right here.”

  “Phil, you and Crystal gotta have a lot of kids!”

  “We’re gonna try.”

  “No, I’m serious. People die all the time and…”

  “We’re not repopulating for everyone else.”

  “No, just for what didn’t happen. We’re both only children. My sisters are only having one kid each, and Ray’s siblings don’t have any. Crystal’s brothers are pretty apathetic in that department and…”

  “Julia, what?”

  “Our parents got cut down short. Well, not Dad, but Laura, Stan, and Jo-Jo. I know all that overpopulation shit, but Phil, I mean it. You and Crystal get knocked up again, have two, five, ten even.”

  Phil laughed. “We’ll do our best. God, I was thinking the same thing before I had it done.”

  She looked at him. “No way!”

  “Yeah, Crystal and I were lying on the couch and…”

  “Stop right there Gideon. I don’t wanna know.”

  He laughed. “No, it’s just that now, maybe a boy. Who knows Julia, who knows?”

  “You want a son Phil?”

  He swallowed. “On my honor, I want whatever God’ll give me.”

  She turned to him. “Really Phil?”

  He nodded. “Really. And I know before it gets better, it’s gonna get worse.”

  She snuggled against him. “I don’t think he’s gonna see 2002.”

  “Maybe not Poppy. Maybe not.”

  “Phil, if he dies and you guys have a son, are you gonna name him Chuck?”

  “I dunno. You want me to?”

  “Maybe. I never thought about it.”

  “Until now.”

  “You were outta commission until now Phil.”

  “I may still be.”

  “I bet not.”

  “Why Penn?”

  She took a breath, but didn’t move from him. “Because you came back. Because in all probability you should be buried or cremated, but you’re here, and I can pinch you if I want.”

  “Just don’t pinch my dick, okay?”

  She giggled. “Okay.” She squeezed his arm. “I can do that Phil, but in a normal world, you should be deader than shit.”

  “What’s normal Penn? We’re weird, remember?”

  “God, no joke.” She sat up, then stared at him. “Phil, I’m serious. What’re the odds of you just blithely changing your mind six hours before that flight took off, huh? That sort of shit just doesn’t happen.”

  “But it did.”

  “I know. That’s why I think if you have a son, you should name him…”

  “Charles to be called Chuck?”

  Her eyes looked bright to Phil, the deepest blue he had ever seen. Not even Crystal’s eyes were this flushed with color. “Name him Daniel. Daniel Stan Gideon.”

  “That’s nice Julia. I like that.”

  “Then, if you have another boy, name him Chuck.”

  Phil laughed. “Another huh?”

  “Then you can name the rest whatever the hell you and Crystal want. But Daniel first, then Chuck. Grandpa died before Dad did anyways.”

  She started to sniffle after she said that, turning into a full-blown wail as Phil cradled her. Daniel had gone first, but Chuck wasn’t far behind.

  On Thanksgiving, families shuttled between Chuck’s hospital room and Phil’s house. On the following Monday, Julia received a registered letter from a Tampa Bay law firm noting she had been removed as the executrix of her grandparents’ estate. She threw a small party to celebrate, the children told that it was a post-turkey gala. They were disappointed not to receive any gifts, but adults reminded that the real deal was only a few weeks away.

  Lee said little about where she would be on Christmas, perhaps in San Jose with Liz or Diane, maybe in San Francisco with Julia. Chuck made a point of refusing her presence with him; no way in hell did he want her missing at least some of the grandkids’ big morning.

  Ten days before Christmas Phil went to his doctor, to have his sperm count checked. He was at Helen’s working when Crystal called with the results. “Well, there’s something in there.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “I’m not,” she laughed. “They wanna do another test to double-check. Phil, I, I…”

  “Don’t move. I’m coming right home.”

  “I’m doing laundry Phil.”

  “All the better. Maybe we’ll make a baby in there.”

  “I think we made Marisa in here,” Crystal giggled.

  “At least Marisa. Probably Ingie too.”

  By the time Phil gave another sperm sample, he and Crystal had enjoyed several intimate moments in the laundry room. Julia had caught them once, hearing a strange knock against the washer. Assuming they had stepped out, leaving an unbalanced load, she had opened the door, closing it right away. Several messages were left between the households, a few on Phil’s cell phone; Julia asked if they needed to add any fabric softener to their machine.

  New Year’s Eve was on Monday, and Julia and Ray were hosting a sleepover. All seven kids were staying in the city that night, and a tent had been erected in the middle of the living room. Liz dropped off Carl and Flynn, then would be on her way to the hospital. Chuck’s condition had worsened, and Crystal and Phil had offered to sleep at Julia’s, in case she and Ray needed to leave.

  Lee and Diane were already with Chuck, and as Liz headed to the foyer, Julia stopped her. “Listen, when you get there, even if he’s not, you know, at death’s door, call me. Maybe I’ll come over for a while.”

  “He didn’t want you to,” Liz said. “But yeah sure. Not like he can do much about it now.”

  They smiled even if staring at their father’s impending demise. For two years Chuck had been threatening, but now he was facing the end.

  “Listen, why don’t you just go over there?” Ray joined them, grasping Julia’s hand. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

  Crystal and Phil approached. “Ray’s right, Penn. It could be any day.”

  Julia stared at the children, most of them huddled on the sofa. Ingie and Flynn could be heard fighting in the tent. “Yeah, maybe.”

  She caught Abe’s gaze, and he came running. “Poppy, are you going with Aunt Liz?”

  Julia didn’t need to kneel, as Abe nearly reached her chest. “I was going to, yeah honey.”

  He grabbed her, and she hugged him tightly. Julia could still pick up JJ, but this boy had always been a moose. She ruffled his hair, then kissed his head. “I’ll tell Grandpa you sent me. He can’t argue with that.”

  “Phil, you go too. Ray and I’ll be fine here.”

  “Crystal, no, it’s okay.”

  “Julia, you hush. Phil, be gone with you. Just stay in touch.”

  Phil nodded as Abe let go. “Yeah Uncle Phil, you take care of Poppy.”

  “Been my job Abe since I was twenty years old.”

  “Hey,” Julia bark
ed.

  “He’s right,” Liz smiled.

  Julia didn’t like the ominous sensation, but as Phil put on his jacket, then grabbed her hand, it dissipated. Her son’s extra squeeze assisted, then all the kids offered hugs. Julia left fortified for what she imagined could be her father’s last night.

  Phil drove Liz’s car; she wanted to spend most of the evening at the hospital. Her boyfriend Adam was with his family, his grandfather unwell. Chuck was seventy-one years old, but Liz’s longtime partner still had his parents, and three of his four grandparents. Julia had two of her grandparents, and she frowned.

  “What Penn?”

  “What what Gideon?” She sat in the back, hadn’t been aware Phil could see her.

  “You’re looking grumpy Julia.”

  “Just thinking how Adam’s grandparents are still alive. You hear anything from him?” she asked Liz.

  “Just that they’re spending tonight at O’Connor Hospital. Parties for everyone.”

  Julia nodded. Diane’s husband Wayne was with Chuck, and they had been at the hospital for most of the day. All lived close as the crow flew, but distances could be measured in bridges traversed, hours spent in traffic. Yet, Julia wouldn’t complain. Phil was driving, Chuck wasn’t dead, yet. Phil wasn’t dead at all, and she giggled. “So Phil…”

  “Yeah?”

  “How’s your washer?”

  Liz laughed.

  “Fine Penn. Next time you come over, I’ll show you.”

  “No thanks. I’ve got a partner.”

  She stared at the bay, feeling trapped what with the city-bound traffic over her head. Then they cleared the span, and she breathed with ease, something about going home. This side of the water was Julia’s home.

  Or maybe it was that Phil lived here. Phil and her parents both, but soon only her mother, and Julia wiped her face.

  “You okay Poppy?”

  “Fine Phil, just fine.”

  He parked, and they stood outside a building so familiar to Julia, like another home. Phil walked between the sisters and Julia felt better for his presence. She would have to thank Crystal tomorrow, or maybe later that night, depending on Chuck. Julia was glad Ray was with the kids; Daddy would break the news while Poppy wept on Uncle Phil’s shoulder. Reaching the elevator, Julia nodded to herself. This was the best way.

  The elevator ride felt so final, moving while standing still. The lurch announced their arrival and Julia gripped Phil’s hand. Then she sighed. “Well, here we go.”

  Liz left first, and Julia and Phil followed. Diane stood outside Chuck’s room, holding herself, and Liz ran, but Julia didn’t. They had missed it, but no one had called to tell them.

  Julia stopped twenty feet from where she watched Liz console their youngest sister. “Phil, oh my God.”

  He blocked her view, pulling her close. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry!”

  “No, no!” Her voice was strangled, then she inhaled, then sobbed. “Oh fucking shit Phil!”

  Perhaps it had just happened, but Phil’s phone hadn’t rung. Julia hated hers, never used it, even with her father so ill. She wasn’t sure about Liz’s cell phone; maybe Lee or Diane thought Liz was driving, and it was better not to disturb her.

  So much technology, yet, sometimes the old fashioned ways ruled. Then Julia looked at Phil. “He told you, God told you to change your flight. You’re here Phil, that’s a miracle.”

  “Yeah Julia, it sure as hell is.”

  They kissed full on the mouth, as if midnight was turning. Then he set pecks along her temples. Then they headed for Chuck’s room.

  Diane met them five feet from the door. She was in tears, actually looked as if she had been slapped. Red puffy eyes hammered into Julia, along with the way Diane shook. Julia reached for her. “It’s okay, he’s not suffering anymore.” She looked around. “Where’s Wayne?”

  “He’s in with Mom and Dad. He’s not dead yet,” Liz murmured.

  “He’s not? Well, what then? He have a heart attack?”

  “Something like that,” Diane warbled.

  “What? What is it?”

  “Julia, oh God, honey, Daddy’s, Daddy’s…”

  “What?” Julia looked around, felt bad for yelling. “Diane, just tell me. What’s wrong with Dad?”

  “Phil, hold her.”

  “Oh for God’s sake Liz, just tell me.”

  “Phil, please?”

  He encircled Julia’s waist. It nearly tickled and she fought a grin. “Okay, Phil’s got me. Now what is it?”

  Diane’s quivering fingers were cold against Julia’s skin and her gray eyes seemed far away. Julia glanced at Liz, who looked just as removed, as if Julia only had Phil to keep her steady. “Julia, honey, Daddy’s making a confession, to the police.”

  Julia laughed. “Daddy was the police. Diane, what?”

  “Tonight, to me, Mom, and Wayne, Dad said that he, he, he…”

  “He what Diane?”

  That was Phil, for Julia couldn’t speak. She couldn’t begin to form the words in her brain, but they had been waiting since she could remember. Claire and Arthur had implanted them from the time Julia was old enough to grasp what murder meant.

  “He said he had Laura killed, that he arranged her accident. He kept saying it, then he got on the phone, Wayne tried to stop him, but Dad called 911, oh my God, Julia, Julia? Julia!”

  She felt dizzy, vomiting on her shoes. Julia swayed in Phil’s arms, then her world went black.

  Chapter 17