Mary and Alvin Ch. 27

"We don't have to hurry," Danni said in an unemotional voice.

"Well we don't want to be late..." he said, his voice tapering off.

"It's Saturday, Alvin."

He looked back at her, unclear what she was telling him.

"It's Shabbat," she said. She turned and stared out the window. "They won't do it until the sun goes down."

Mary was surprised by Providence. She had imagined it as a dreary place, a rundown industrial town, but it was a beautiful city of tree lined streets and well kept historical buildings. It would be nice to come down here for a visit sometime, she thought.

They stopped at the hotel just long enough to check in and drop off their luggage. When she saw that they had been given rooms across the hall, rather than adjacent to each other, Mary mused, well, that could have some advantages, but then felt guilty for the thought.

Alvin took the wheel for the short drive to Rhode Island Hospital, and it only took a few minutes for Danni to guide him there. He dropped the women at the front entrance, then found a parking space. By the time he caught up to them, they were waiting by the elevators.

"We're going to the fourth floor," Mary told him as they boarded. "They said we can't take a child into the unit, but there is a lounge down the hall. You and I can wait there with Bonita while the girls go in."

"Will that work for you?" Alvin asked Danni.

"I guess it will have to," she shrugged.

The elevator opened. Mary hugged Danni, then took Bonita's hand and led her toward the lounge. Alvin hesitated. "It's okay," Danni told him, "My turn to be the mighty oak."

"The stone wall," he replied.

She nodded, then took Jennifer's hand and pushed through the swinging doors to the ward.

They found the room, just a few steps down the hall. Jennifer squeezed Danni's hand and whispered. "I love you, baby. I've got your back."

"I know that like I know my own name," Danni said. They stepped into the room.

There was barely enough space for them. The bed was completely blocked from their view by the surrounding family members. Danni gently put her hand on the shoulder of the man in front of her. He turned and she saw that it was her oldest brother, Aldo. His eyes grew wide when he saw her. He took a step to his left, making room for her. As she stepped into the circle, everyone looked up at her, but she did not meet their gaze, her attention was fixated on the figure in the bed.

Her mother looked so small, so frail. Her eyes were closed and she might have appeared to be sleeping peacefully if not for the tubes extending from her mouth and nose. Danni felt her breathing quicken, and fought to maintain control. She was determined that she would not break down. She felt Jennifer's hands on her back and it calmed her. She looked up from her mother's face and made eye contact with her father, sitting next to the bed and holding his wife's hand. He stared at her with an emotionless expression for a moment, then dropped his head and began mumbling a Hebrew prayer.

Jennifer felt a touch on her arm. She turned and saw a young woman shyly smile at her. Her features were finer, but her resemblance to Danni was unmistakable. "You must be Jennifer," she whispered, leaning in close.

Jennifer nodded.

"I'm Irina. I'm so glad you are here."

Jennifer looked around the room, listening to the muffled sound of the family's prayers. She could see the resemblance in each face, and she found herself growing agitated. They were a family, they were Danni's family. They are Bonita's family, she thought with a flash of anger.

The praying faded to silence, and Jennifer realized that everyone was gazing out the window at the darkening sky. Danni's father picked up the call button from the bed, hesitated for a moment, then pressed it.

A nurse slipped into the room, and somehow managed to pass through the crowd to the side of the bed. She had thick blonde hair and wore pale green scrubs. Jennifer was reminded of a picture she had seen of her mother.

"Are you sure you are ready?" the nurse asked in a soft, sympathetic voice. Danni's father nodded. She patted his shoulder and turned towards the stand of medical equipment. One by one, the machines stopped beeping and the lines on the monitors went flat. Aldo reached forward and rested his hand on his mother's arm. The other brothers, Rafael and Tobias, followed his lead. Danni's older sisters, Natalia and Silvia, each laid a hand on one of their mother's legs. Irina wrapped her arm around Danni's, and together they stepped forward and laid their hands on their mother.

It was completely silent in the room. After a few minutes the nurse gently moved Silvia and Tobias aside and Danni watched her check her mother for a pulse and a heartbeat. When she finished she stepped back and said, "I will leave you alone. Stay as long as you wish."

The family stood silent vigil for several minutes, then their father wearily rose from his chair and said, "I must go call the rabbi and the shomer."

"Are you sure, Father?" Aldo asked, "I can do that."

"No," he responded, "I will perform the duties for my wife. And even now, physical needs must be met."

He squeezed his way around the bed, turning his back to Danni, but coming face to face with Jennifer. For years, this man had been a great villain in her imagination, but all she could feel now was sympathy for his profound loss. She stepped aside and touched his arm as he passed. If he noticed, he did not respond.

***

Mary dozed in a corner chair, but Alvin and Bonita were both restless. Alvin paced over to the window and looked out. Across the freeway, he could see a sliver of the moonlit harbor.

"Come here, sweetie," he said to Bonita. She came to him and he lifted her up, so that her feet were on the windowsill.

"Do you see the lights on the boats?" he asked her.

"I see them," she said, smiling and slapping the glass.

"That great big long one? That is called a freighter."

"Faiter," she responded.

"Close enough. And that's a tugboat. It's going out to help the freighter."

"Is faiter in trouble?"

"No, but you know how Papa holds your hand when we cross the street? That's what the tugboat does, it's like she makes sure the freighter gets where it has to go safely."

Alvin heard someone behind him and turned to look. An older man in a black suit stepped to the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee. He sat down, drooping in the chair, his head hanging low. He held the coffee between his knees and did not drink.

Alvin carried Bonita over and sat down across from the man. He set her in the chair next to him and softly asked, "You alright, Bub?"

The man looked up at him without lifting his head.

"I lost my wife today."

Alvin nodded. "I know that, Mr. Ortega. I am sorry for your loss."

"You must be the father. Father of the...the..."

"The wife," Alvin said emphatically.

Danni's father winced. He sat silently for a minute. Alvin was torn between his sympathy for the man and his anger toward him.

"Mr...it's Faulkner, is it not?"

"It is, sir. Alvin Faulkner."

"Bernardo Ortega. Mr. Faulkner, when you found out what your daughter is..."

"She's a farmer."

"Please, Mr. Faulkner, I mean no disrespect. When you learned of..."

"When I found out she was gay."

"Yes. What did you do?"

"I took her to get ice cream."

Mr. Ortega looked startled.

"Sir, she was a fourteen year old kid who had lost her mother a couple of years earlier. She's a bold one and she wouldn't show it, but I knew that she was terrified inside. And you know, it wasn't bullies at school that she was scared of, or some jackass politician. What she was afraid of was that her daddy wouldn't love her anymore."

Mr. Ortega sat silently for a minute, then he shook his head. "This...this issue...it is hard for me, Mr. Faulkner."

Alvin tried to keep his anger out of his voice. "Damn right it's hard. Being a father is hard. That's the friggin' job."

"You shame me, Mr. Faulkner."

"Sir, Your daughter is one of the finest people I have had the honor to know. She has been a blessing to me, to my daughter, to my whole family. To our community. You punish yourself by refusing to have her in your life. I came down here filled with anger toward you, but all I feel right now is sympathy. You've lost so much. Why not take back what is offered to you?"

"I did not know you had lost your wife."

Alvin leaned forward and put his hand on the old man's shoulder. "I did, Bernardo, and if you need someone to talk to, someone who has some notion of what you are going through, let me know."

Bernardo strightened and for the first time, made eye contact with Bonita.

"Hi," she said shyly.

"Hello..."

"Her name is Bonita."

"Hello Bonita." He looked at Alvin. "That means beautiful in Portuguese."

"Yes sir, I know that." Alvin stroked Bonita hair. "She's a delightful girl. And I do realize that there are concerns when a child is raised with two mothers and no father. So, I try to be that male figure in her life."

Bernardo nodded. "There is good sense in that."

"I could use some help with it, though. And she's got two grandfathers."

"I hear your words, Mr. Faulkner." Bernardo stood up. "I must be going, the shomer will be here soon, and I'd like some time alone with my wife before he arrives."

"The shomer?" Alvin asked as he rose to his feet.

"The watchman who sits with the deceased until the burial."

Alvin held out his hand. Bernardo shook it, then reached down and touched Bonita's head. "Goodbye, Beautiful."

"Bye, Mister," Bonita said, looking confused. Bernardo stared down at her for a moment, then left the lounge.

"Damn, I just love the hell out of you," Mary said from the corner.

Alvin turned to face her. "I thought you were still asleep. How long you been sitting there listening?"

"Since the tugboat helped mister freighter cross the street."

Danni and Jennifer came into the lounge a few minutes later. Bonita ran to them, and Jennifer scooped her up and kissed her. Mary held up her arms and Danni went to her.

"Are you okay?" Mary asked, holding her tight.

"I will be."

"We met a man named Ortega, like us," Bonita told Jennifer.

"What?" Danni said, looking at her, then at Alvin. "You met my father? How did that go?"

Alvin shrugged. "We share a lot of common ground, you know."

"I guess so," Danni shook her head. "He has a conversation with you, but walked by me like he didn't see me."

"I'm sorry, honey," Alvin said.

Danni shrugged. "It is what it is."

"I'm hungry," Bonita said.

"Me, too," Jennifer agreed. "What the hell time is it?"

"Almost ten," Mary said. "We ought to get something to eat, and go back to the hotel."

"We could have Chinese delivered," Danni suggested.

"Oh my god," Mary laughed, "Delivery? What will they think of next?"

"I want crab 'goons!" Bonita said.

"You can have all the crab 'goons you want, baby," Jennifer said. "Do you know a good place?" she asked Danni.

"I'm a Jew in my hometown," Danni shrugged, "Of course I know where to get good Chinese food."

***

Mary came out of the bathroom in a fluffy white hotel robe. She gathered the empty Chinese food containers from the table and dropped them in the waste basket, then sat cross legged in the middle of the bed. Alvin was leaning on the window staring out at the lights of the city.

"Honey," she said gently, "is everything okay?"

He turned to face her. "Yes. I'm worried about Danni, how she's holding everything in." He looked down at his hand and the knuckle that had always been a little out of place since he had slammed his fist into the side of the barn on the night that Mary had miscarried. "And I'm just feeling a little emotionally drained."

"I understand, love, but what about physically drained?" She nonchalantly flipped the belt of her robe to the side. "A night with no little ears listening is not something to waste."

Alvin chuckled but looked down at the floor.

"Mary, let me ask you about something."

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"We have never really talked about whether or not we want to have another one."

Mary nodded. "That's true. Why do you suppose that is?"

"I think we each made assumptions about how the other one felt. I think you assumed that I was afraid that if we had another child I might not be around long enough to see it grow up."

"That thought crossed my mind."

"I do worry about that. Hell, I worry about it with Hannah."

"And I think you assumed that because I lost the first baby, I would be afraid to push our luck and try again."

"I think I am afraid of that more than you are." He paused. "But we haven't talked about it since Hannah came along."

He crossed the room and sat on the bed. Mary appeared lost in thought.

"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" he asked her.

"I was just thinking, if the first baby had...had made it, we probably would have stopped then. And it would have been a wonderful baby and we would have loved it with all our hearts. But it would not be our Hannah."

Alvin rubbed his chin. "I never thought of if that way."

"This is sort of like an O Henry story, isn't it?"

Alvin chuckled. "We ought to have Rachel turn it into one of her stories."

"Oh, that reminds me," Mary said, rolling off the bed. She rummaged in her carry on bag and pulled out one of the packages that Joe had given her that morning. "Nope, that one is Jen's," she said. She reached back in and pulled out the other package, then sat down on the bed and opened it.

"What have you got there?" Alvin asked. Mary was staring at a hardcover book. After a minute she held it up to show him the cover.

"The Princess and The Sailor, a young adult novel by Rachel Faulkner Michaud," Alvin read aloud. "Jeezum Crow." He looked closely at the cover illustration. A beautiful young woman stood on the deck of a sailing ship, her long auburn hair flowing in the breeze. A tall handsome sailor stood behind her, one hand on her shoulder, the other grasping the rigging.

Mary opened the book. On the blank first page, in blue marker, the author had written a dedication. Mary read it and drew in a sharp breath.

"What does it say?" Alvin asked.

"To my dearest Alvin and Mary, thank you for all you taught me about the glorious and triumphant splendor of love. Rachel."

"Jeezum," Alvin muttered. He laughed and kissed Mary's cheek. "Did we do that?"

"I guess so," Mary said, turning to the first page and beginning to read.

Alvin ran his fingers up and down her thigh. "I thought we were going to take advantage of this opportunity..."

"We will," she replied, not looking up from the book, "Just hold your horses."

Alvin got up and went to the bathroom. When he came back, he moved the desk chair near the bed. He sat down and pulled Mary's feet into his lap and massaged them while she continued to read. After a few minutes, she looked up at him and frowned. Turning back to the beginning of the book, she said, "Alvin, let me read you a little bit, okay?"

"Sure," he said, sitting back. Mary began to read.

In the early years of the whelm, in the Golden Lands in the far west, there lived a beautiful princess. Her name was Marwyn, and her father was king of the city and all the lands between the desert and the tranquil sea.

She looked up at Alvin. "This is about us," she said.

Alvin laughed. "Get out of here," he scoffed.

"Princess Marwyn? Mary. Winslow."

"Well, she maybe used your name..."

"Yes, she used my name. For a princess from the golden land."

"You figure that's California?"

Mary nodded. "And she falls in love with a sailor. Named Alfond."

"Well, maybe..."

Mary flipped through the pages.

"Alvin, what is the etymology of the name Faulkner?"

"It's Old English for falconer. Why?"

" A Peregrine is a kind of falcon, right?"

"Yes, it is. What's your point?"

"The name of the sailor's ship is the Peregrine."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

Alvin raised Mary's leg and kissed the side of her calf. "Well you always been an inspiration to me," he said, running his other hand up her thigh.

"Is that right?" she giggled, setting the book aside.

"Very much so," he said, kissing the back of her knee.

"What do I inspire you to do?"

We took both her ankles in his hands and slid her towards the edge of the bed. Leaning forward, he kissed her, then lowered his head between her thighs.

Mary tangled her fingers in his hair. She leaned back and closed her eyes as she felt his lips and tongue touch her. It' s very good to be a princess, she told herself.

***

Mary was struck by the beauty of Temple Beth Sholom. Its massive doors and tall columns had a stately dignity that was formidable but at the same time welcoming.

"What does that mean, Beth Shalom?" Alvin asked as they mounted the wide steps.

"The House of Peace," Danni told him.

Please, God, let her find it here, Mary thought.

They entered the lobby and a small, pleasant looking man walked up to Alvin, extended his hand, and introduced himself as Rabbi Gold. He then turned to Danni.

"Danielle," he said, "I remember you as a girl. I understand that you are a police officer now?"

"A deputy in the sheriff's department", she replied. She introduced him to Mary, and then said "And this is my wife Jennifer and our daughter, Bonita."

He nodded and said "All are welcome here. Do you mind?" he asked, reaching into his pocket. He hid a peppermint candy in his palm. Showing it to Danni, he tilted his head toward Bonita.

"No, not at all, thank you, Rabbi."

He handed the candy to Bonita, who thanked him and began fumbling with the wrapper. He leaned down and took it from her, unwrapped it and handed it back. Standing up he said, "Danielle, let me show you to where your family is gathering. I am guessing that these folks are unfamiliar with some of our customs. Dorothy here is from the funeral committee, she will help them out."

He took Danni's hand between both of his own. "I was so sorry to hear about your mother. May her memory be a blessing." He put one hand on her back and ushered her away to join her family.

Dorothy shook hands with Alvin and Mary and Jennifer. "Welcome. It is a mitzvah for you to be here today. I am sure the family appreciates your presence very much."

I'm not so sure about that, Alvin thought.

"In our traditions, we make a distinction between what we call the avelim, that's the immediate family, and the other mourners. We ask that until the services are finished, you not interact with the family. I know that's not always easy to do. The family will sit separately, both here and at the graveside. We are grateful that you have joined us on this occasion, but we do not expect that you took a crash course in Hebrew overnight or that you are familiar with ritual. Don't feel uncomfortable to just observe." She shrugged her shoulders. "An amen now and then would be nice, but don't get carried away."

She gestured them towards the entrance to the sanctuary. From a table near the door she picked up a black yarmulke and handed it to Alvin. "Sir, if you would," she said.

Alvin placed the yarmulke on the top of his head. Mary reached up and adjusted it to a more fitting angle.

They entered the sanctuary and took seats in one of the back rows. Bonita stood up on the bench and began looking around.

"Sit down, sweetie," Jennifer told her. "You have to be very, very good and very quiet, okay?"

"Okay," she said, turning and sitting, "But where did Mama Danni go?"

"She's with her family," Jennifer said.

"But we are her family," Bonita pouted.

Mary leaned down. "Do you remember when Uncle Robby and Aunt Carmella came to visit us a little while ago?"

"I remember."

"Well, they are my family, right? And some of the people here are Mama Danni's family. Sometimes people have family that is far away."