Chapter 2
Shari got to the restaurant early. She had to park a ways away and walk so she wanted to give herself plenty of time. Walking slowly she could almost control the pain and the limp. She tried not to be prideful but she was very self-conscious of how dramatic her limp was when she was hurrying and how much pain it caused. She was standing next to the entrance, scanning the sidewalk when she saw her two boys saunter towards her. They were still a fair distance away so Shari smiled and waved and watched them walk. Mark was taller and leaner and his blond hair had turned darker as he aged but the dimple in his cheek kept him young, and his wall to wall smile could still light up the day. A person couldn't help but smile when Mark was around. He was an engineer for a pharmaceutical company and his family constantly teased him about finding the cure for cancer. He was married to Marci, a talented musician and singer and they were the extremely proud parents of a one year old terror named Eli.
Tyson lifted his hand in greeting and even from this distance she could see his wink. He was a charmer and he never failed to charm his mom. His love for a good workout left him broad and muscled, and his hair was longer, blonder and a little on the wild side. Tyson was finding a lot of success in real estate. He was married to Liz, a perky little spitfire who kept him on his toes and they had two kids that never quit moving, even in their sleep.
Shari watched them tease each other and walk towards her and her heart just smiled with joy inside her chest. She was crazy about those two and so incredibly proud of the men they had become.
Mark reached her first and he wrapped her in his long arms and whispered “Happy Birthday Mom.”
Tyson was always a little more demonstrative. He scooped her up in his big arms and spun her around singing “Happy Birthday To You.”
“Put me down, you lunatic. You'll break your back,” Shari punched his shoulder while she laughed.
“What are you talking about? You're as light as a feather. How's your day going?”
“It's absolutely perfect. Now let's go get something to eat before I starve to death.”
They were at the bottom floor of her all time favorite revolving restaurant. Twenty two floors up and the elevator opened up to a breathtaking 360 degree view of downtown Phoenix and the mountains in the distance.
“Phew, I'm thankful for elevators. I would hate to have to walk up those stairs,” Shari mused.
“Not a worry. I would just piggy back you and sprint for a little extra exercise,” Tyson offered.
Shari laughed. It wasn't the first time Tyson had offered to piggy back her over a distance rather than watch her limp painfully along.
Since it was Thursday at lunchtime there were very few people in the restaurant so they picked a table next to the ceiling-high windows and pulled out a menu. They were in no hurry so they sat looking at the scenery commenting on new structures and old landmarks. The restaurant slowly rotated around so the view changed continually.
“Tell me what my practically perfect grandchildren are up to,” Shari started.
Tyson volunteered first. “Kylee is helping with the baby so much she's about to drive her mother crazy. She's anxious for him to grow up so she is constantly trying to help him walk, feed him cheerios or hug the stuffing out of him. The other day, Kenny was sitting in the high chair just minding his own business while Liz was in the kitchen fixing something. She heard hysterical giggling, which can never mean anything good. When she got into the dining room Kylee was tossing soggy frosted flakes at Kenny and sticking them to his fat little face. He was covered in soggy cereal and they both thought it was a riot.”
“There is no question but that those are your children,” Shari laughed, “that sounds exactly like something you would have done.”
“Eli has learned how to crawl out of his crib,” Mark offered. “I often wake up to the sounds of his little padded pajama feet running down the hall. This morning I opened my eyes about dawn and found him 2 inches from my face staring at me, waiting for me to open my eyes.”
Shari laughed out loud. “I can't tell you two how thrilled I am to see you so happy and with such wonderful families. I can tell you both really enjoy this whole “daddy” role.
“Yeah, well you should have warned us how they wrap around your heart so fast” smiled Tyson, “I had no idea I could ever love a little munchkin this much. Sometimes it just about knocks me over it's so powerful.”
“I know what you mean,” countered Mark, “the other day as I came home from work; Marci and Eli were playing out on the grass waiting for me. As soon as he saw my truck he started jumping up and down and squealing. I can't remember the last time anything made me feel so good.”
Shari watched their animated smiles when they talked about their families and felt, as she had so many times before how grateful she was that her sons had found so much joy. She knew there would be trials ahead for both families, but with enough love they could weather any storms that might come.
Conversations lulled as they looked over the menu. Shari knew what she'd order but she perused the specials anyway. Eating out in such a nice restaurant should be an adventure to savor, not to rush through. On her birthday luncheon the boys always gave her all of the unlimited time she wanted with them. Tyson's phone vibrated several times, but he checked the number to make sure it wasn't an emergency and then ignored the call. His full attention was on his date for the afternoon.
“How's your hip mom?” Tyson asked.
“Oh, about the same. Maybe a little worse. I'm hopeful for the day when I can have a hip replacement. It's not a cure all, and I'm hesitant about the complications but it's my best bet. I'm trying to learn patience, but only marginally succeeding.”
“I don't mind admitting, I hope this particular gene is not hereditary. I'm not sure I'd be as good of sport as you have if I lost the ability to do the things I love,” Tyson finished.
“Yes, well, I'm hoping that I'll be able to run and play with them a little as my grand kids get older.”
“Your grand kids adore you whether you can run or not,” countered Mark. “Eli is barely learning to talk but he asks to go to grandma's every morning. You spoil him rotten and he throws a complete tantrum when we try to change the superman pajamas 'his grandma gave him'.”
“If we put one more project you and Kylee made together on the fridge, it's going to fall over,” Tyson added, “and she still won't let anyone eat the happy face pancake you two made 2 weeks ago.”
“Speaking of my grand kids, when are you and Marci going to leave Eli with me for a weekend so you can get away together?”
“We'd love to get away. We're trying to work it out with my schedule and her music lessons. Eli is fun, but I think Marci needs a full weekend of relaxation and romance, in that order. That reminds me mom, I can't tell you how much your note and gift meant to Marci. Not too many people recognize how hard she works at being a wife and mother and it's easy for her to feel unappreciated. I think your note came at just the right time. She's planning on using the $100 'performance bonus’ for a little pampering at the salon. If she didn't already love you enough, she does now.”
“Well, you know how I feel about mothering. I know both of your wives are WAY too good for you two and I have to take care of them so they'll continue to think they're the lucky ones.”
“Nice try mom, “laughed Tyson. “We know you think we're amazing. You may have given up on perfect, but we hear through the grapevine about your incessant bragging on our behalf. If you deny it, I'm pretty sure I still have a chest full of notes somewhere from you telling me just how much you think of me.”
“Me too,” added Mark, "and I'm pretty sure I'm even more amazing than Tyson.”
“What?” Tyson chimed in indignantly, “Everyone knows I'm the favorite. Isn't the oldest always the favorite?”
“Only if he isn't a spoiled, arrogant brat,” Shari added sweetly. “Besides, I've told you a million times. I don't have any favorites. I love you all equall
y. Now let's get to the food ordering.
Lunch was delicious. Shari had beef tenderloin with mushroom sauce and the boys had a steak. Just as they finished their main course the waitress appeared with an enormous chocolate fudge brownie concoction, with a candle and a “happy birthday” sign sticking out the top.
“Do we have a birthday at this table?” the waitress asked.
Shari rolled her eyes at her two boys across the table, but they just grinned those innocent ear to ear smiles and Tyson winked at her.
“Mom is turning 40 today.” Tyson offered.
Shari laughed, “Yes and I had you when I was 10.” The waitress smiled. Even though she didn't know them, she could feel the love and friendship between them.
When Shari blew out the candle, both boys got up from their chairs, came around the table, and simultaneously kissed her on the cheeks. “Love you mom,” Mark whispered.
The waitress blinked a few times when she handed them three spoons and watched them dig into the brownie mound together. She stood off to the side for a minute and watched the three of them with a smile on her face. When one of the boys quickly stole the cherry on the top of the sundae, the other two laughed. The mother had a playful, infectious giggle and her son had a head thrown back, booming laugh. Something about just watching them brightened the waitress' day and she wondered if she'd be that happy when she was gray and chubby and wrinkled.
About half way through the brownie, Shari and Tyson protested loudly that they shouldn't eat so much sugar and made a token effort to put their spoons down occasionally. Mark didn’t even slow down. He never made any pretense about eating healthy. With the metabolism of a hummingbird he could pack away unlimited sugar, carbs or fast food without a care.
“Someday that's going to catch up with you,” Tyson said, enviously.
“Yeah, but until it does, I'm making the most of it,” Mark smiled as he finished off the last chunk of fudge soaked brownie.
Tyson leaned backward and stuck out his normally washboard stomach. He made it protrude comically as he patted it. “Ahh, I'm stuffed.”
“It's been so nice to get away from work for a couple of hours on such a gorgeous day,” Mark mused as he gazed across the landscape from the window. “Things have been hectic and we're all under a lot of pressure. It makes me extra glad to go home at night to a waiting meal and a wiggling one year old. I gotta admit, it beats the heck out of going home to an empty place, fixing my own dinner and watching the latest NCIS. I'm liking the married life.”
“I always knew you would,” Shari teased, “even as a child you were most content to be home with family most of the time. Plus, you're kind of a spoiled baby and you love having someone pamper you.”
Mark laughed his loud, contagious laugh. “True, and she does spoil me something fierce.”
As they watched the restaurant revolve around for its second complete turn, the lunch crowd thinned out and there were only a few people left. When the waitress brought the check all three of them reached for it. Shari glared sternly at her two boys. “I'm the mom and I say it's my treat.”
Tyson leaned forward and whispered, "Yes, but if you don't let go of the check I'm going to pick you up, throw you over my shoulder and swing you around.”
With Tyson you could never tell if he was serious. There was nothing you could actually put past him. He would think nothing of doing exactly that and it wouldn't embarrass him in the slightest. Shari however would be mortified, especially when he injured his back hefting his chubby mom.
Shari relinquished the bill immediately. Mark just laughed and threw his hands up in surrender.
After Tyson took care of the bill he handed the waitress his camera phone and asked her to snap a picture of the group. He was a picture nut and he had documented something from almost every day of his life. A fact Shari was very grateful for. Almost daily she received little pictures in her email or on her phone of her grand kids. The three of them snuggled close together and smiled as the waitresses recorded the memory.
As Mark reached to pull his mother's chair out for her he stumbled slightly and caught himself. He lost his balance again before he realized that the building was moving.
“Get under the table quick!” Tyson yelled. They dived beneath the heavy oak just in time see an elaborate, ornate chandelier come crashing to the floor. A giant glass window shattered beside them and Tyson shielded his mother from the flying glass by covering her with his broad shoulders. The building groaned and shook, picture frames crashed to the ground along with china, utensils and goblets. Someone began to scream hysterically and panic erupted all around them. The shaking stopped suddenly and Tyson peeked out from beneath the table to survey the damage. “An earthquake in Phoenix? Who would ever believe it?”
Even as he said it people began running for the elevator. A red warning light on the doors started rotating and screaming loudly and the elevator doors remained closed. Suddenly a manager appeared to calm the frantic crowd. He held his hands up and yelled in a loud authoritarian voice, “Don't panic. The elevator is unsafe to use. We'll just have to use the staircase. Everyone calmly make your way to the stairs and exit the building as soon as possible.”
The few patrons left in the restaurant raced frantically for the staircase pushing and shoving, just as an aftershock rumbled the building a second time. Mark and Tyson, on their feet now, reached together to help their mother to stand. Shari was slow to stand, even as she hurried as fast as she could. “Sorry boys, sitting so long made my leg stiffen up and it doesn't seem to be working very well.”
The boys grabbed her elbows and hurried her towards the staircase just as the last of the waitresses, busboys, chefs and managers started down. A young manager glanced questioningly back at Tyson, Mark and Shari. “Go ahead,” Mark said “We're coming, we just move a little slower than the rest of you.” That was all the encouragement the manager needed. He took off at a dead run down the staircase.
As windows continued to shatter and a vase crashed down behind them, the threesome entered the staircase and began to descend 22 very long flights. Shari's hip joint, not good at its best, was screaming in agony with every step she took. About every third step it just gave out from under her and she staggered to catch her balance. The boys were always right there to keep her from falling and she leaned heavily on them. She cursed the morning hike and all the sitting that had weakened the joint even more than usual and determined to move faster. The harder she tried to move fast, the more often the hip joint gave out and slowed the trio down even more. Tears of frustration coursed down her cheeks as she clung to the strong arms of her boys. “I'm so sorry,” her voice broke on the words.
“Mom, we know you're trying. You're the toughest lady we know. We're gonna be fine, just keep moving,” Mark smiled, but it was a tense, strained smile and his eyebrows were knitted together.
They made it almost 3 flights before the next aftershock hit. This one was more powerful than the first. They clung to the rail as the building began to sway and rumble again. This time, huge chunks of concrete began to fall from somewhere above them. Suddenly, the situation became much more serious. “The building is coming down around us,” Tyson yelled, “Just as a piece of the stair beside them crumbled and fell several stories. “We've got to hurry.”
“You boys go on ahead, please,” Shari begged, “I don't want to slow you down. You could be out of here in a matter of minutes. I'll meet you at the bottom.”
“Nice try funny lady,” Tyson said, “We're not leaving you so get the lead out.” As more debris fell around them both boys simultaneously wrapped Shari's arms around their shoulders and began to run, dragging her hobbling behind them down the stairs. By now the tears were coming full force and Shari sobbed out her worst fears, “Please, please don’t let my boys die in this building, “she pleaded. It sounded like a prayer but the boys knew she was talking to them as well. They ignored her even as they continued down two more flights. It doesn't matte
r how strong you are, it takes a toll on your body to carry an overweight, middle aged woman down several flights of stairs. Tyson's shirt was dripping with sweat while Marks shoulders heaved in exhaustion.
“Boys, please listen to me,” Shari begged, above the rumble, “think of your families. They need you. They can't lose you. Just hurry down. I can't stand the idea that I'm keeping you from making it out of here. Don't do this. Please.” This time her grim faced boys were silent, focusing all their efforts on getting the trio down the eternally long stairwell.
Shari's mind raced frantically even as she heaved deep gulping breaths. Her heart couldn't fathom the idea that those precious families might lose their husbands and fathers because she couldn't move any faster. She redoubled her efforts to move quickly but her mind kept searching to find ways to convince her boys to make it out safely. She loved them so much it actually hurt.
With his free hand Mark answered his cell as Marci called. She'd been trying since the quake and was frantic with relief to hear his voice. He shouted the situation above the roar of the collapsing building. “We're on about the 18th floor,” he yelled, “We’re doing the best we can. I love you.” But his voice choked on the last few words as they all heard Marci sobbing when he hung up.
Tyson took his cue and speed dialed Liz with his outside hand. Either cell towers were down or just on overload as the city reeled from the earthquake. He couldn't get a signal. He knew she'd be frantic with worry and he desperately wished he could get through to assure her that he was alright. He said another silent prayer that they were all safe and reached deep inside for more strength than he had ever needed to get them out of the building.
On the 17th floor they lost valuable time as they navigated a huge hole in the floor. The boys could easily jump over it but they were fairly sure Shari wouldn't make it. They ended up grabbing the rail and “climbing” around the hole. Shari's heart sank as she looked down and saw several more holes, even larger, ahead of them as the stairwell began to crumble. She would slow the trio down to a crawl. She was getting desperate. She prayed for guidance as they hurried. Never in her life had she wanted to be manipulative as she did now.
“Tyson and Mark, listen to me. I KNOW how much you love me. I know you don't want to leave me. But I've lived a great life, an incredibly happy life. I could go anytime. I need you to do this for me. I don't know if we're all going to make it out of here, but you HAVE to. You can’t leave those children fatherless.” She paused for a moment and grabbed Tyson's face in her hands. “Please, please do this one thing for me. Run and get out of the building while you can.” By now tears ran down Tyson's face too. The pain and anguish he felt were written in his eyes. He pictured his sweet little daughter, growing up without a daddy and a son who would never know him and he wavered for the first time.
“Mark, please,” she begged as she leaned her forehead against his. “Don’t let this be the end of such a wonderful beginning for you.” Mark openly sobbed. His heart felt as if a razor blade was systematically slicing it to shreds. He loved this woman so much, but the love in Marci's frantic voice was pulling him just as strongly to make it back to her.
Shari sensed the moment they began to concede, and she pounced on it. “You know it's the right thing to do. If I make it out before the building collapses I promise I'll thank you for this every day for the rest of my life. Your father would understand. God would understand. Please go, while you still can.”
How can a person make such a life altering decision in a split second? Yet, that's all they had. With debris falling around them, their chests and shoulders heaving with exertion, and tears clouding their vision, they paused on the stairs and looked into each other's eyes. Was there a right answer? In their hearts they prayed for guidance, but in the end Shari made the choice for them. She sensed their hesitation, pushed them from behind and smiled a wobbly smile when they turned their torn grief stricken faces towards her. “Go, I'll be fine. No matter what happens. I love you way more than life itself.”
Dust from the collapse filled the air and blocked their vision as another block of concrete hurtled passed them. Tyson knew she was right. In his heart he felt it. He had a young family to care for. No one could ever raise them and love them like he could. He had to be there for them. Yet, turning away from the woman who had loved him so completely and unconditionally for his entire life made his stomach revolt in nausea and knots. He leaned down to embrace Shari and kiss her on the cheek, but the kiss tasted like salt from their tears. He didn't have to tell her how much he loved her, she knew.
Once the decision was made Tyson's powerful legs carried him down entire flights at a time. He was out of the building within minutes. Temporarily blinded by the smoke, dust and debris, he shouted above the tumult and turned to make sure Mark was behind him. There was no one there. The building rumbled and began to crumble as he stood, disbelieving. Where was Mark? He should be out by now. Wasn’t he right behind him?
On the stairwell, Mark knew Shari was right too. He kissed his mom and held onto her for a split second. He started to follow Tyson just as a huge metal railing tore from somewhere above them and crashed from the sky. He instinctively pulled Shari to him and covered her with his strong shoulders. The railing barely missed them, but as he protected the woman who had so often and so lovingly protected him, he found he couldn't leave. With great effort, he pushed thoughts of Marci and Eli from his mind and held on to his mother. Through the gut wrenching sobs that rocked her body, Shari pushed Mark and continued to plead with him to hurry down. He wrapped his arms tighter around her and held on as the world came down around them.