20 July 2000 - Vernon Street, Medford, Massachusetts

Jeff hadn’t expected his mind to be as quiet as it was while he stood in the line at Roberts Funeral Home; he wasn’t being bombarded with images of Saturday’s events and that surprised him. He knew he wasn’t “better” but he was getting there. It was 6:32 p.m., an hour and a half before the evening portion of Liliana Sepulveda’s calling hours would end. The rest of Saturday’s crew, the ones who’d been at her apartment that horrible day, were in line behind him while they waited. He realized he hadn’t had the “what ifs” since he talked to Keiko.

Everyone from The Call met at Station Five for the ride to Malden in a Brophy Ambulance fifteen-passenger van; they’d decided they wanted to meet there and arrive as a group. Jeff expected he’d start having another reaction when Shawna turned onto the Mystic Valley Parkway. He did, just not as bad as he was expecting. There was a lump in his throat, sure, and the familiar tightness in his chest, but not the crippling pain he’d experienced after the call. He took deep breaths on the way past the apartment building.

Jeff glanced down at the front of his uniform shirt; the sight of a tie and his Army awards struck him as odd once again. Seamus and Sean told him he should wear his awards since Medford Police and Fire allowed prior-service members to wear them with their dress uniforms. The tie, ribbons and white gloves were the closest thing to a dress uniform he had; the fact that Brophy Ambulance did not issue dress uniforms was being addressed right away by the service’s owner.

He lost sight of the lead-gray sky when he stepped through the door of the funeral home; the funeral director donated his services to Jasmine as soon as he’d seen the story on the news. Though the air conditioning kept the inside temperature comfortable, Jeff still found himself pulling at his collar while they waited. Shawna put her hand on his shoulder for a moment in support.

“You okay, Jeff?” she whispered. He glanced back and nodded; he needed to be here, both for Lily’s family and for himself.

When they saw Liliana’s casket the pain returned, lancing through him and threatening to drive him to his knees again. Somehow the funeral home pulled off a miracle and she looked just like the pictures he’d seen of the happy little girl. There was no sign of the violence she’d endured in her last moments of life. Jeff purposely took slow, deep breaths. He slowly peeled his white gloves off, trying to focus on something to do, and because he’d been taught to remove his gloves before shaking hands.

Jasmine saw him and the uniformed personnel waiting in line when Jeff knelt at the casket. She’d been focused on the nearer mourners. Jeff didn’t see the tears fill her eyes or her hand fly up to her mouth, covering her gasp; his eyes were closed, his head bowed while he apologized to the little girl once again. Shawna placed a hand on his neck to signal it was time to rise from the kneeler. The mother and the paramedic acknowledged each other with tears in their eyes. Jasmine hugged him as hard as she could when he bent low to grieve with her. Jasmine brushed her tears away as she stepped back.

“I can’t believe you came,” she said.

“Jasmine...” Jeff swallowed the lump in his throat. “We’re so sorry. We ... we tried ... we tried so hard...” Another tear slipped down his cheek. Jasmine nodded in understanding and her tears flowed again. She kissed him on the cheek, then he silently left. If he’d paused to offer his condolences to the rest of the family, he couldn’t remember. He stopped, shaken, in the funeral home’s side parking lot with his back to the line of people waiting to enter. Nick put an arm around his shoulders while Jeff calmed himself.

“You sure you want to go Saturday, Jeff?” Shawna asked.

He straightened up, the steel of resolve returning to his spine. “Charlie Mike,” he whispered back.

“Huh?”

“Charlie Mike - Continue Mission. Warrior ethos, Shawna: the mission is more important than you are. Tonight was only half the task assigned, Saturday is the other.”

“We’re behind you, Jeff,” Glen McDaniel said to the agreement of the rest of the group.

Two days later Jasmine Ruiz didn’t care who saw her crying. She’d been the strong mother at Lily’s wake on Thursday; today she was saying goodbye to her first child. She knew she’d never forget Lily but today would mark the end of remembering the bad times. Her cousin tried to comfort her through the funeral, and her presence was welcome for it helped Jasmine hold herself together for her youngest, Ruby. The priest was finishing his remarks when he called someone up to the pulpit.

“Miss Ruiz, ladies and gentlemen, my name is Seamus Brophy. On behalf of the Medford Firefighters Local 1032, the Medford Police Patrolman’s Association and the Brophy Ambulance Group, we would like to announce the creation of a scholarship at Medford High School sponsored jointly by our three entities; the scholarship will be awarded annually to the student who best displays the qualities of moral courage, integrity and selflessness in their life. This scholarship will be known as the Liliana Sepulveda Memorial Scholarship.“

Jasmine burst into tears while the priest led the assembly in applause. Seamus continued when the applause faded away. “Lily is now considered a member of all of us - the police, the firefighters, and the ambulance crews - through her bravery and her heroism. When trouble began, she moved towards it to defend her sister, not away. The world would be a better place if we had more people like your Lily, Miss Ruiz.” Seamus nodded to the back of the church.

Jasmine’s head snapped up when she heard the mournful, shrill cry of bagpipes. She turned to see six pipers slow-marching up the sanctuary’s side aisles; a color guard slow-stepped up the center trailed by six escorts in dress uniform. Five of the pipers remained silent while a single piper played the haunting refrain of Amazing Grace, the mournful drones crying, echoing under the timeless hymn.

The color guard advanced to Lily’s casket; the six uniformed honor personnel advanced to its flanks. The six were members of the three professional units Seamus had named earlier; Brophy’s team wore dress uniforms that arrived in time for today. The pallbearers turned Lily’s casket so she would leave feet-first.

“Miss Ruiz? It is time. I will escort you, if you’ll allow?” someone in a green dress uniform asked gently; it was Jeff. Jasmine clasped Ruby’s hand while Jeff led them down the aisle behind Liliana. The five pipers rejoined the soloist after the hymn’s opening verse finished; all played while the guests filed out.

The color guard paused in the nave of the church. They replaced the pall on Lily’s casket with an American flag. The color guard stepped out with their flags first and a voice command echoed outside:

“DETAIL! AH-TEN-SHUN!” The pallbearers stepped out carrying Lily. The follow-on command came: “PRESENT! ARMS!” The bright sun outside blinded Jasmine’s eyes for a moment, but she gasped when she could see ordered ranks of firefighters, police officers and EMTs standing at attention on High Street behind the hearse. The pipes playing Amazing Grace faded away; the street was wrapped in silence. Everyone in uniform saluted while Lily was brought to the long black vehicle to be carried to the cemetery less than two miles away. Jeff guided Jasmine and Ruby to the back of the hearse; he saluted while Lily was placed inside. He guided them to their limousine, then he lined up behind the hearse.

The six pallbearers flanking the black vehicle were chosen from responders to The Call; those not chosen lined up with Jeff to complete Lily’s escort to her final rest. They stood at attention while the color guards, the pipers, and other uniformed personnel moved in front of the hearse. A voice ordered, “AT A SLOW CADENCE! FORWARD! MARCH!” Snare and bass drums marked time for the marchers. The pipes took up a slow-marching lament.

MPD Sergeant MacGilroy supervised the pallbearers while Jeff led Jasmine and Ruby to the graveside. The pipers played as guests joined the family. The priest’s remarks were brief. The pallbearers folded the flag on Lily’s casket when he’d finished; they handed it to Sergeant MacGilroy who turned and offered it to Jeff. After receiving the sergeant’s salute, Jeff carried the flag to Jasmine where he kneeled before her.

“Miss Ruiz, please accept this flag as a reminder of your daughter’s courage. We shall always remember our sister in service.” Jasmine’s tears flowed while she took the flag from Jeff; he stood, rendered a final salute, and moved away to rejoin his group from Saturday.

Back at the church, Jeff and his group thanked the other members of their departments, and all those from the nearby cities, for helping out; they’d decided not to intrude on the family at the after-funeral reception. The bands the pipes and drums came from would receive anonymous donations in the coming days.

“Did today help like you’d hoped it would, Jeff?” Stan Williams asked him once the core group was alone.

“Some, Stan, yes. I’ve still got a ways to go in dealing with it, but I don’t feel the crushing weight all the time, at least. I’m taking a vacation with my family starting tomorrow.”

“Where are you going?”

The Knox family was en route early the next morning to Stoneham, Maine, population two hundred sixty. Keiko had found a house for rent on the shores of Keewaydin Lake during the height of the tourist season; the owner told her she’d had a cancellation and Keiko jumped on it. She’d rented the house for two weeks.

His wife was awesome.

At just over three hours travel time it wasn’t a bad ride from Lancaster. Jeff and Keiko talked quietly while the kids slept through the early morning drive; they’d left the house at six to try and beat any weekend traffic. A voice from the back seat alerted them that someone was awake around eight.

“Dad, are we there yet?” Ryan asked when they turned off the Maine Turnpike in Gray. Neither parent could help their laughter.

“Well I guess that’s universal,” Jeff muttered to his wife. “We still have about an hour’s drive, Ryan,” he told his son while Keiko continued giggling. “Your Japanese is getting good, by the way.”

True to his word, Jeff pointed out the sign for Stoneham when they crossed the town line an hour later. Five minutes after that they pulled into a friendly-looking breakfast place along Maine Street; everyone was happy for the chance to stretch their legs. Most of the family used the rest rooms before taking an empty booth at the opposite end of the dining area.

“I’ll be right back, Keiko,” Jeff said once the boys were settled. “The boys are all set, but I’ll be right back. Would you order my usual if they have it?” Jeff walked back to the men’s room and the door swung shut behind him; as it thumped closed the door to the ladies room opened. The exiting waitress finished fixing her ponytail while stepping behind the counter; she washed her hands again before retying her apron and stepping over to the Knoxes’ table.

“Hi, folks! I’m Annie and I’ll be your waitress this morning. Just the four of you?”

“Five; my husband is in the rest room, but I will order for him.” Keiko gave Annie the meal orders for her family. “Agnes DeLeval said that we would be able to pick up a key to the house we are renting from her from a woman named ‘Annie’ who works here; are you the Annie she spoke of?”

“I am, yes. You must be Keiko.” Keiko nodded. “Let me get it for you; I’ll be right back.” She returned with the small, brass object on a keychain a moment later. “Here you are.”

“And here is the check for the rental fee. I neglected to place it in an envelope before we departed our residence this morning.”

“No problem, I can grab one from the office in the back.” Annie glanced down at the names printed on the check and froze.

“Is there a problem?” Keiko asked.

“No, Mrs. Knox, I apologize. Your husband’s name caught me by surprise, that’s all. I used to have a friend named Jeff Knox, years ago.” She put the check in her apron and withdrew her order pad and pencil.

“You still have a friend named Jeff Knox, Constance Ann,” came a voice from behind her, one she remembered from long ago. “There’s no ‘used to’ about it.”

Annie dropped her pad and pencil at the sound of Jeff’s voice, a look of shock on her face while she turned. As she turned she tried to tell herself there was no possible way she’d heard what she’d heard, but saw her suspicion was true.

“It’s been a long time, Connie,” he said with a gentle smile. “You look well.”

The shocked server covered her mouth as she tried to back away, eyes brimming with tears, but she backed into the Knox’s table instead. The cook saw Annie’s reaction and darted for the door to the dining room. Jeff backed up as well and held up his hands, palms out, trying to reassure the woman he meant her no harm.

“Jeff?” Annie squeaked. She received a nod in return. “Jeff!” She dove at him and grabbed him in a hug. Keiko saw a tear track down Jeff’s face while he hugged the woman back.

“You’re alive!” he whispered. “You’re alive and okay!”

The cook barged through the kitchen door holding a cleaver but he stopped in his tracks when he saw Annie hugging Jeff; her feet were dangling off the floor because Jeff had straightened up and was much taller than her. Annie wore a smile and happy tears.

“Jeffrey?” Keiko asked, confused. Jeff lowered the server back to the linoleum.

“Keiko, do you remember when we first started dating I told you about the friend who was living with me when my truck was set on fire?”

“Yes, Jeffrey, I remember.”

“Keiko, kids, I’d like you to meet my friend Constance Ann Willis; we called her Connie back in Springfield, though from her name tag I would guess she goes by Annie now. Annie, I’d like you to meet my wife, Keiko, and our children: Alex, Ryan and Sabrina.”

“Annie?” the cook asked.

“It’s okay, Dad,” she assured the older man, wiping away her tears. “Jeff’s a good friend, the one who gave me a place to live after the apartment fire. He’s not a threat.”

“I don’t know Connie, er, Annie, I could be here to sweep you off your feet and spirit you away.”

“Holy cow, I’ve missed your bad jokes,” Annie replied, hugging him again. She released him and stepped back. “You’re renting Aggie DeLeval’s place?” Jeff nodded. “How long will you be around?”

“We’re in town for two weeks.”

Annie nodded. “Let me get Dad back into the kitchen and started on your order. I’ll be right back, okay?” She shoo’ed the older man into the back again.

“Jeffrey, when Annie comes back with our coffee you should ask when she goes off-shift. Perhaps we can drive to the house, unload our things and you can come back?”

“Keiko, I should...”

“ ... listen to your wife? Jeffrey, you have not seen your friend in over seven years. The children and I will be fine at the house until you return.”

Jeff smiled at his wife; the longer they were together, the more he was amazed by her generosity. Annie told him she’d be on until two in the afternoon when the restaurant closed; he’d be back there by then.

Jeff climbed out of his family’s Suburban carrying a brown paper bag; he made his way across the “Over Easy” parking lot.

“They’re closing soon,” another gentleman commented when he passed Jeff going the other way.

“Yes, sir, I know, thanks. I’ve got business with the owners.” Annie met him at the door and locked it behind him.

“Come on through to the back,” she said. She led him into the kitchen where the man she’d called “Dad” was finishing cleaning up the grill for the day. “Dad, this is Jeff Knox, an old friend from my EMT days. Jeff, my Dad, Brian Dufault.”

“Mr. Dufault.”

“Call me Brian,” the older man said, extending his hand.

“Jeff.”

“Sorry about the cleaver earlier.”

“The way Annie reacted at first, I can’t blame you for wanting to protect your daughter.”

Brian nodded his thanks. “Honey, take your friend over to the deck and get caught up there. I’ll finish up here and drive over to the Sportsman’s Club for a bit.”

“You sure, Dad? I should stay and help you finish closing,” Annie protested.

“I’m almost done, sweetheart,” Brian smiled. “You go ahead.”

Behind the modest house next door to the restaurant Annie waved Jeff to a deck chair and explained she was going to change. Jeff pulled the six-pack from the bag he’d been carrying. He stretched out in the chair, extracted a bottle from the carrier and looked out over the Dufaults’ back yard.

Annie emerged from the house wearing a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Jeff stood and wrapped his friend in prolonged hug, glad to finally know that his friend was safe. Jeff pulled another bottle out of the six-pack’s carrier and extended it to Annie; she looked at the label and smiled.

“You remembered,” she said.

“You used to keep so much in the fridge at the apartment we didn’t have room for food sometimes!”

Annie smiled at the memory while they sat. She drank deeply from the bottle and sighed. “Still the best root beer around. Goddamn, Jeff, I’m so happy to see you! I thought I’d never see any of you guys again!”

“When I came home and found your note, I kept thinking ‘you didn’t have to leave’ over and over even though I understood why you did. I had some friends look for you for a while after you left, but they couldn’t look too hard without people asking questions. By the end of the spring I got caught in some stuff related to the night our cars got torched; CRVA self-destructed, and I wound up having to leave, too.” Jeff sighed and looked towards the forest again, reminded of his parents’ back yard. “I miss CRVA.”

“Me, too. What happened to the company? What drove you away?” Jeff told Annie about the attempted merger with WREMS and the events that led to his departure. Annie shook her head at the tale. “It’s hard to believe one person was responsible for all that.”

“Well, I think WREMS would have collapsed at some point down the road; the GM’s attitude would have doomed the company eventually even without his hatred of me.”

“I meant the crazy one, actually. What happened to everyone?”

“Most of the EMTs and paramedics found jobs with other EMS agencies; some left EMS. The office staff scattered; I didn’t know many of them very well and I’ve lost track of most of them. The crazy one’s got another twenty-five years on her sentence at the women’s prison in Framingham, though I’m sure the Commonwealth will parole her in ten.”

“What about our partners?”

“Neil got out; he’s working retail if you can believe that. Gene just got a job as a flight medic down in Connecticut. Bill Harris is the program manager for Western General’s EMS system. Stu...” Jeff sighed. “Stu’s serving a life sentence.”

Annie sat up. “Stu? A life sentence? What the hell happened?”

“He married my little sister.”

“Wha... ? Dammit, Jeff!” She threw her bottle cap at him, laughing. “Stu married Kara?”

“Yeah, the summer after you left, in ‘94. Matt’s gonna be fourteen this year and a freshman in high school; Jenni turned five last month.”

“Matty’s starting high school? Geez, I’m getting old. I’m guessing is Jenni their little girl?”

“Yep, named for Stu’s first wife.” Jeff saw that Annie was staring wistfully at the woods beyond the yard, smiling at something in her mind. “Annie?” he asked softly; she turned back to him. “I understand why you had to leave back in ‘93. How did you wind up in a little town in Maine?”

She turned back to the woods once more and sighed, no longer smiling. “That night, the night Dawn tried to lure us outside, that was the most scared I’ve ever been in my life; even when my family threw me out I felt more in control than I did that night. I didn’t know what to do other than start packing what little I had before going to bed. I barely slept that night; every time I would fall asleep I’d see Dawn coming after me with that bat or screaming at me in Bill’s office.”

“I knew there was that regional bus that ran to Gardner or I could go to a larger hub like Springfield; I chose Springfield. I finished packing while you were out the next morning. I waited for you to leave for work before opening the door to my room and I cleaned out my car, what little was in there. I took the plates off and mailed the keys and a notarized letter to your Dad; the letter explained that I was giving the car back to him and I asked him not to submit a transfer of title yet, so he could still own it. I closed my account at Valley Credit Union before I had to catch that bus, so I had a few thousand dollars in traveler’s checks in my pocket made out to me, plus some cash.”

“I took a cab from the bus station to the Amtrak station; there I bought an economy ticket to San Francisco. The seating area of a train sucks to sleep in, by the way. If you ever travel on a train overnight, pay for a compartment. I spent a whole day asleep after I arrived in San Francisco.”

“I’d hoped for a new start out there, but after a few months I felt that I didn’t fit. I’m East Coast born and bred and couldn’t adapt to the West Coast culture. It took me a couple of years to work my way back across the country; I’d take a bus to a small town, work in a diner for a little while and kept moving east until I landed in Fryeburg, Maine. I got pretty good at keeping bosses away from me along the way, too.”

“Before I’d move on from somewhere I’d buy more traveler’s checks; I cashed out two thousand dollars of those checks and bought a car in Fryeburg the morning after I got there. I hung around town for a couple of more days but the urge to keep moving came back. I left town after dinner one night and drove up Route 5. The car I bought in Fryeburg started make strange noises almost as soon as I drove out of town. By the time I entered Stoneham it was overheating; I was barely able to limp into the parking lot here.”

“It was already past dark and I knew I wouldn’t be able to do anything about the car that night. I pulled the car to the side of the building, as far off the road as I could get, and locked up the car. I hadn’t slept very well since the night before Dawn’s attack and I was constantly exhausted; there’d always be some dream or odd feeling waking me up. The night I parked here was a moonless night and I’d picked up a good sleeping bag, so I didn’t have to worry about being cold. I cracked the windows for some fresh air, climbed into the back seat and fell asleep.”

“I slept through the night, soundly, for the first time in a long time; I woke about nine the next morning. When I sat up there was a note under the wiper. The note told me to come inside for breakfast at no charge. I wasn’t sure the note was genuine but I knew I needed to at least use the bathroom before worrying about the car.”

“When I was done with my morning business I sat at the counter half expecting to be thrown out. Instead Dad came out of the kitchen and asked me what I wanted.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that,” Jeff said, interrupting her. “‘Dad?’”

“I’ll get to that. When I hesitated, he assured me I could have anything I wanted from the menu, and as much as I wanted, at no charge. It was unusually slow in the restaurant that morning; Dad stayed and talked as much as he could. When I was finished eating I asked if there was a mechanic in town and told him why. He told me he’d take a look at it after closing time and that I could wait in an empty booth.”

“It didn’t take him long to see what the problem was with my car. I’d let the engine overheat, blown the radiator and cracked the head; I hadn’t owned the car two weeks and I already needed a replacement. Dad scooped my things out of the junker and carried them here. He told me I could have a room for as long as I needed it, no strings attached. Whatever I was seeking I felt I’d already found it here; I knew that Dad wouldn’t be a threat, either. When I asked him why he would offer a stranger a room in his house he sat me down in this very chair and started explaining.”

“He’d once had a daughter my age, Jeanine. Her mother ran off when she was eleven and it was just the two of them. Jeanine fell in with a bad crowd at high school and was on the verge of failing out by her sixteenth birthday. When he called her on her behavior one night, they got into a terrible argument; she threw her ‘deviant’ sexual orientation, something no one knew about, in his face late in their argument and he’d walked away. Jeanine took off in their car after he’d gone to bed.”

“The police found her dead in Portland three days later, the burned-out husk of the car a week after that. Dad said he sat, staring into space in the front room, for days after the police broke the news to him. He pulled himself together two weeks after but he wasn’t really living, just existing.”

“This is a tight-knit community for as small as it is; it reminds me of Enfield, actually. People here understood and helped Dad through the first few months the best they could. Someone suggested remaking himself instead of just plodding through as he’d been doing. He’d worked construction his whole life, but always had a dream to open a breakfast place. He scraped together the money to build ‘Over Easy’ and opened a year after Jeanine was killed.”

“Dad prayed every night for forgiveness for turning his back on his daughter and for a second chance to do the right thing. He said it wasn’t six months after he opened before he found me in my car. He almost called the police to charge me with trespassing, but then he realized I might be the second chance he’d been asking for.”

“I knew I wanted to stay here if I could, so there was no rush on replacing the car. Dad offered to drive me anywhere I wanted to go, but in reality there was no place else for me but here. I was here a little less than a week when I started to go a bit stir crazy from sitting around doing nothing. I’d read the few books I had and everything Dad has lying around, so I walked over to the restaurant one morning to see if there was anything they needed help with.”

“The lot was packed and, when I walked inside, they were getting slammed. I jumped in and started doing everything else but the cooking: busing tables, cleaning, taking out trash, washing dishes. The people who’d viewed me as nothing but someone leaching off a heartbroken friend started to view me with a little less suspicion after that. It took a few more days like that one before they really accepted me, though.”

“Dad thanked me for my help that day, telling me that I’d helped keep their heads above water. I knew I had to come clean. I told him my story up to that point: I was gay, my family had thrown me out, all of it. That, and that I’d pack my things and leave again. He told me I’d do no such thing because of what I’d told him; if I wanted to leave, that was one thing, but I shouldn’t feel I had to leave because I was gay.”

“At some point in our conversation he mentioned wishing he could be a father again and just be proud of his daughter, regardless. It took a little while, but one day here in the house I just called him ‘Dad.’ You’ve seen him; can you imagine a tough-guy like that breaking down into a crying mess?”

“I can imagine it...” Jeff whispered, the darkness creeping closer again.

“What’s that?”

“Finish your story. I’ll tell you mine after.”

“There’s really not much more to tell. I’d been calling myself ‘Annie’ since I left Enfield that day but made it official when Dad adopted me; my last name’s ‘Dufault’ now also. The paperwork was finalized about two or three years ago. What about you? What’s happening with you these days? Obviously you’re married and have three kids.”

Jeff blew out a breath and stared off into the distance again. He gave Annie a condensed version of events since he’d run into Keiko again in ‘94. He closed his eyes and sighed before describing The Call and the previous week to her; she came over to give him another hug when he’d finished.

“I don’t miss that shit, that’s for sure,” she muttered.

“No urge to join the ambulance squad up here?”

“Nope.” Annie saw Jeff glance at his watch. “Do you need to go?”

“Keiko said she and the kids will be fine, but I should get back so I can start dinner. What are you up to tonight?”

“In the bustling metropolis of Stoneham, Maine? Same as most nights: not much. Dad’ll be at the Sportsman’s Club for a bit on a Sunday; it’s the only time he really takes off as a business owner.”

“Would he mind if you weren’t here making dinner?”

“Not at all. He’ll eat at the club; I usually fend for myself on Sundays.”

“Come on out to the lake then; have dinner with my family.”

Annie smiled. “I’d like that. Let me call the club and let Dad know.”

The two weeks at the lake were good for Jeff. There were no alarm clocks to set and there wasn’t anybody looking for him. The family ate breakfast at the diner every morning; the Dufaults came out for dinner almost every night. Jeff hit it off with Brian. The kids latched onto Annie in exchange. The Knoxes stopped at the diner for breakfast on their way out of town.

“Reconnecting with you has done wonders for Annie,” Brian said to Jeff as they shook hands after their meal.

“It’s done wonders for me too, Brian. Our family loved the house so we’ll be renting from Aggie again if she’s got the time available next year.”

“She’ll pencil you in as soon you can get ahold of her. We look forward to seeing you next summer.”

The kids and Keiko were finishing saying their goodbyes to Annie when Jeff walked over. Keiko herded them out to the car, waving goodbye to Brian on their way out the door.

“She’s a good match for you, Jeff, and your kids are terrific,” Annie said smiling while she watched the small group walk to the Suburban.

“I got lucky, that’s for sure.”

“I think Fate is rewarding you.” She turned her smile to her renewed friend. “I’m just glad it chose to include me in your reward; you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” She gave him a tight hug.

“If you and your Dad ever feel the burning need to visit Enfield or Central Mass, let us know; we have the room if you’d like to stay with us in Lancaster. Is it okay if I let the guys know where you are?”

“Please. It’s time to stop hiding.”

“I sense an uptick in tourism coming to Stoneham. I’ll repeat what I said after I read your card in ‘93, since it seems to have worked out for you: ‘Vaya con Dios, mi amiga.’”

“‘Adieu, mon amie’ would be more appropriate up here, don’t you think?”

Jeff held Keiko’s hand while he drove them home; she and the kids drifted off into a post-breakfast nap, lulled to sleep by the hum of the tires. He used the miles to sort through the events of the past month. While he felt he’d still need more time deal with and to talk about The Call with someone, running into Annie again and relaxing for the past few weeks had worked wonders. Recalling the events of that terrible Saturday were now like watching a movie in his mind, one he could hold at a distance.

The ride home took a little longer, about four hours total, due to the other folks heading home on a Sunday. The family pitched in together and emptied the car when they returned to Lancaster; they’d been able to do laundry at their rental so they avoided that hassle.

Jeff stayed in vacation mode that afternoon, not accomplishing much except watching baseball from the couch with Keiko curled up next to him. Dinner was a simple affair needing little clean-up. Once the kids were tucked into their beds he told Keiko he needed to make one phone call and he’d rejoin her on the couch.

He walked into the office and sat behind the desk. Putting his feet up he picked up the phone and dialed. The call connected moments later.

“Sean? It’s Jeff. I’m in.”