Tidal Zone
The two sisters plus Leah, Andrea, and Brooke Catherine, now seven months old, united at the cottage with the widow’s walk at the end of Bogue Beach on Easter weekend the following spring. The main purpose of the gathering was to fulfill Brooke’s explicit request that “the girls have fun with me at the beach then leave part of me behind in the water”—that is, part of her ashes scattered in the ocean. She’d left similar instructions for “the boys” to plant the other part of her in the rose garden behind the house.
Because Brooke was cremated two days after she died, there was no urgency to schedule the funeral promptly. Dave, in consultation with his children and Pastor Bob, put the funeral plans on hold until his granddaughter recovered sufficiently from her premature birth and open-heart surgery to be sent home. He then scheduled the funeral for three weeks later, on a Saturday morning in Advent, a time of year Brooke always loved with her myriad Christmas preparations in full swing.
Penni had her doubts about attending the funeral. She wasn’t sure Brooke Catherine was ready for such a long trip and refused to leave her, even for a day. But she was swayed by Randall, who suggested they drive rather than fly, so that they could stop as often as needed, and turn around if necessary. And she was convinced by Jodie, who said she’d stay till then and ride down with them, sharing responsibility for care of her niece with Penni.
Jodie had remained in Boston the whole time, sleeping on a temporary bed set up alongside the crib in the colorful nursery. In the first days following the surgery—when Penni was at the hospital almost round the clock, coming home for only a couple hours a day to shower and change while Randall or Jodie kept watch at Brooke Catherine’s neo-natal ICU crib-side—Jodie tended to household chores at the condo—cooking simple meals from her mom’s online cookbook to serve to Randall and take to Penni (though she rarely had to look at the recipe, recalling most of the ingredients for the familiar casseroles, much to her surprise and mild chagrin), doing the laundry, cleaning the impeccably clean rooms, collecting and sorting the mail. Later, once her niece stabilized and began strengthening and was moved through several stages of stepdown care, Jodie began spending more time at the hospital, allowing Randall to return to his rotations and Penni to sleep at home and catch up on her Morningcare business, which was managing but just barely in her absence. Then when Brooke Catherine came home, Jodie offered to return the rented bed and sleep on the couch; but Penni would not hear of it, insisted that her sister sleep in the room with her daughter as long as she didn’t mind twice nightly visits as Penni snuck in to check on her baby and nurse her in the rocker. Jodie had replied, “Can’t be any worse than sleeping with Andrea,” reminding both of them that she had a different life and its associate sleeping arrangements waiting for her somewhere beyond Boston. The comment, meant as no more than an idle joke, brought tears to Penni’s eyes and a long hug of otherwise inexpressible thanks. Jodie accepted the gift as affirmation of her choice and purpose.
Andrea had stayed with Leah throughout the day of Brooke’s death and for the four days following as they stayed on at her sister’s house and provided quiet support to Dave after his sons returned home—cooking meals, breaking down the sofa-bed in the study, throwing out (at Dave’s insistence) the sheets that had held Brooke those last days, doing the many loads of laundry for the small mountain of used towels and linens, attending with Dave and Davey the negotiations with the funeral home and the funeral planning with Pastor Bob. Andrea helped out where she could but mainly focused on sitting quietly with Leah whenever Leah was left alone and idle. Late in the week following a particularly tasty meal and three glasses of wine, Dave joked, “I’m glad Andrea is here as chaperone. Wouldn’t want the neighbors to spread any nasty rumors” to which Leah had replied “It’s probably time for me to head home to Whitfield” but accompanying the comment with a teasing smile.
Andrea had asked if she could ride with Leah back to her home, using the excuse, “The flights out of Atlanta are hundreds of dollars cheaper.” Leah answered “I’d be glad for the company.” Andrea stayed with Leah and Whitfield for over a week. “I’ve always wanted to check out Atlanta!” she claimed, though she rarely strayed far from Leah. They made several daytrips into the city—to restaurants, shopping districts, museums. Eight days into her stay, Andrea asked Leah between bites of her two-fisted “Bubba-bubba Burger” at a locally famous diner, “Will you be O.K.?”
“You mean if you aren’t here to watch over me?”
Andrea smiled. She talked to Jodie daily, and Jodie’s first question was always, “Is Leah O.K.?” One time she’d asked Jodie, “What about me?” And Jodie had replied, “I know you’re O.K. by the sound of your voice!” Andrea looked at Leah across the booth and said, “Yeah.”
Leah had said, “It’s enough to know that you and Jodie are watching over me whether you’re here or not, just like I know Brooke is watching.”
That was the best answer Andrea could hope to get. She told Jodie that night she’d be heading back to Seattle.
Jodie had asked, “Is it O.K. if I stay on with Penni a little longer?”
Andrea had answered, “I miss you every day, Sweet; but I’m used to missing you. Stay as long as you have to but not a day longer, please.”
Jodie answered, “Deal.”
Leah drove Andrea to the airport and at the curb presented her with a first-class ticket on the direct flight she was expecting to fly stand-by.
“This must have cost a fortune,” Andrea said.
Leah laughed from her place below the curb, her eyes now at Andrea’s level. “I could say the same to you.” She gave her niece’s partner a long hug. She wasn’t sure who it was she was hugging—Andrea, Jodie, or Brooke—and at that moment she could have cared less.
They all reconvened for the funeral a month later. The church was full, and the ushers had to set up chairs in the foyer. Everything passed in a blur of family, friends, community dignitaries, flowers filling the chancel, and finger food at the loud reception in the fellowship hall. Brooke Catherine handled the proceedings like a champ, didn’t even cry at her baptism in a private service the next morning, though everyone else in attendance did, including Pastor Bob. Then the girls went home—Penni and Brooke Catherine to Boston, Leah to Atlanta, Jodie and Andrea to Seattle, Brooke to her place in the urn on the mantle—to await the spring.