Lost (19 page)

Ben, ever the planner, had found us a driver
for the day, and he was waiting for us when we got to the bottom of the
mountain 30 minutes later. The walk down had been different than our time at
the top. It was lighter, filled with laughter. Ben and Anthony regaled the kids
with stories of their ‘Man Trips.’”

“No one wants
to hear about your fishing trips,” Bee teased.

“Yeah, we do!”
Ant told his mom.

“Funny, they
never seemed to catch anything,” Karie teased.

“That’s what
you think,” Anthony threw back.

There were some
oohh’s as the kids all laughed at Karie and her father.

When we finally
reached the bottom, the kids all got into the driver’s van. I stood at the base
of the mountain and looked up at it.

“You have no
idea how much I loved you—how much I still love you,” I said to my husband. “Good-bye,
my love.”

“You okay?”

I turned around
to find Bee and Amy behind me, concern etched on their faces.

“You know
what?” I asked them. “I think I am.”

I really
think I am.

We made it back to the ship that day in
one piece. I had asked to have some time alone, so everyone else went ahead to
dinner. I sat on the balcony of the room I shared with the girls and just
looked out over the ocean. For the first time in almost a year, I just enjoyed
the silence. The waves kicked up against the side of the ship, and the water
reminded me of Brian’s eyes.

I had wondered
if I’d feel like I was leaving a part of me behind, but I didn’t. I just
felt... at peace. I was more likely to bring up death than Brian had been. I
had always told him if something happened to me, he would remarry within a
year—he had gotten so used to having someone there. But he would gruffly tell
me to shut up. The one time he did say something else in response was after his
father died.

I adored
Brian’s father. Mark was larger than life and would fill the room with his
presence. He was the exact opposite of my father, and his death had crushed me.

“If something
happens to me, Julie, be happy,” Brian had said.

“Shut up!” I
snapped at Brian. “Don’t talk like that.”

He took my face
in his hands and kissed me. “Don’t mourn me for too long. Promise me you’ll be
happy again.”

I gave him
dirty looks, but he kept on until I promised.

Sitting on the
balcony without Brian by my side, I felt as if I broke that promise. The idea
of being happy, of ever finding someone else seemed like such a foreign
concept. I wasn’t one to wax poetic on soul mates, but what I had with Brian,
anyone else would be forever trying to live up to a memory. And yet, Brian had
never said being happy meant remarrying. I could find... I was finding my own
happiness. And for the time being, I was happy—with the kids, with our friends.
I would start to find a way to keep my promise to Brian.

The next day we went to St. Thomas, and
Ben promised us a beautiful beach. He said it was one of the most beautiful
beaches in the world - according to one of his magazines and the Internet.

The beach was
just okay—apparently the magazine was there during some other season. And the
sunburn I got kind of sucked. Nevertheless it was a wonderful afternoon.

The following
day Amy, Bee, and I got off in Nassau and hit the straw market. We bought
trinkets for the kids, and I found a great wooden mask that I would hang on my
wall—after I figured out how to hang something on a wall. We drank a bit too
much at one of the local bars and spent too much on locally made sarongs.

And on the
final day of the cruise, we hit the casino. Well, everyone over 18 did. Sam,
Ben, Anthony, and Amy all lost money. Karie, Bee, and I won a little something
to make us the ones with smiles on our faces.

And then,
sadly, it was back to the home port.

“Alright. Do we have all the bags?” I
asked, checking off my list.

“Nope, we’re
still missing the girls’ suitcase,” Sam said.

“There it is!”
Maggie ran over and tried to lift it off the moving belt, but it dragged her
instead. “Carey! Help me!”

He laughed and
easily lifted it off and placed it on our cart.

Customs had
been a breeze, though Ben had to pay taxes on some of the liquor he brought
home.

We all headed
out to our cars. Sam, Carey, and Jimmy loaded up the van while I got the girls
settled. I hugged our friends, and thanked them for joining us. And then it was
just the kids and I.

“We good?” I
asked, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Yep, let’s do
it!” Sam said, climbing in next to me.

“Everyone
buckled up?” I asked the kids.

“Yes.”

“Yep.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Sam, put your
seat belt on,” I told him.

Once we were
all buckled in, I started the car, and we headed out of the lot. We had left
out of Baltimore, so it took us about 4 hours to get home. The kids sang along
with the radio and talked about the highlights of their trip.

In my head, I
was planning the next few days, weeks, and months. A trip to the grocery store
would be a necessity when we got home. In a few weeks, we would need to start
shopping for school supplies. Jimmy and Carey would need sports physicals. And
I needed to get my eyes examined—it was about time for new glasses.

“Are we almost
home?” Jessie whined from the back seat.

I looked around
to see where we were—about 15 miles from Richmond. “Yep almost home. About 45
minutes or so.”

Being a Sunday
afternoon, traffic was light, and we were making good time. We had so much fun
on the cruise, but now that we were almost home, I just wanted to get there,
unpack, and lay down in my own bed.

“Shit,” I said
louder than I meant to. My low fuel light came on. Other cars might be able to
push 40 miles on fumes, but not the van.

“Oohh... Mommy
said a bad word.”

“Are you
serious? Carey be quiet,” I told him. “Got to stop and get gas guys. If you
need to go to the bathroom, might as well do it.”

We pulled off
at the next exit and stopped at a rather shady-looking Exxon.

“I am not going
potty here, Mommy,” Maggie said. I didn’t blame her.

“Do you need to
go?” Sam asked her.

She was doing
the potty dance and just nodded. He took her hand and told me they would run
across the street to the Burger King. I waved them on and decided to just fill
up. No sense stopping in another day or two, as I am sure I will be running
around with the kids.

“Mom, you okay?
Need any help?” Carey stuck his head out of the window. I looked up and caught
a glimpse of Jimmy asleep against the the window. I chuckled—he could sleep
anywhere just like his father.

“Nope. I’m
good.”

The pump
clicked off, and I took the nozzle out of my tank and put it up.

Sheesh,
almost $100 for gas.

Jessie was
looking at one of her magazines, and I turned to see Sam and Maggie running up
to the car.

“Thanks, Sam.”
Maggie looked up at her big brother adoringly. “All done, Mommy. Let’s go
home!”

“Okay. Everyone
in. Buckle up!”

And we were
off.

About an hour later, we pulled into the
driveway.
Home!

“We’re home!”
Sam yelled into the back seat.

Everyone had
dozed off except for Jessie, who threw her magazine aside and unbuckled her
seat belt.

Jimmy quickly
woke up and stretched. “Cool. Carey, get up.” He shoved his brother, who was in
the path of the exit.

Carey woke up
reluctantly and moved to open the door.

Sam and I were
already out, and I was walking toward the front door with my key at the ready.
It was good to be home.

Opening the
door, I didn’t notice anything off right away. I just knew that it was hot
inside, so I went over to the thermostat to turn up the air. And then I saw it.

Brian had taken
a picture of Sam and I at his kindergarten graduation. It was knocked off the
wall. I didn’t think anything of it—maybe it just fell down. But then I saw the
next picture. One of our wedding pictures was on the floor, the glass smashed.
I whirled around to look at the family room. All the family pictures I had
scattered around on the shelves, the end tables—all were on the floor. I ran to
the stairs.

My wall of
pictures, as Brian used to call it, was smashed on the stairs. I had
painstakingly gone through school pictures, vacation pictures—hundreds of
them—and lovingly put them in frames. There must have been over 50 on the wall.
And there they were, every single one of them was taken off and ruined.

I heard the
kids coming in.

“NO!” I yelled
to Carey, who was coming in the front door. “Stay outside.”

“What? Why?”
Carey peeked in, looking worried, but I motioned him out angrily.

Who would do
this?
I thought as I
moved carefully upstairs. More pictures lined the hallway, and every single one
of them was also knocked to the floor. Glass was everywhere.

Only one door
was open—Sam’s room. I picked up a heavy vase—not really sure what I would do
with it—and walked into his room slowly. Somewhere in the back of my mind I
realized that I was perhaps, maybe acting foolishly. I knew I should’ve gone
back outside with the kids and called the police, but I kept kept telling
myself this was
my
home.

Sam’s room
looked untouched, except for one thing. On his dresser had been two pictures.
Both were from Sam’s high school graduation. Brian and I had been so proud. We
had to have pictures with our graduate. One of the pictures was a shot I took
of Sam and Brian. The other was one Brian took of Sam and I.

The one with
Brian was fine, but the one of the two of us... The frame had been shattered against
the dresser. I could see the mark. And the picture had been ripped to shreds.
Tears filled my eyes.

I clutched the
vase tighter and walked down to the kitchen. I had another picture of Sam and I
in there. It was a bigger picture. I was in my wedding dress, and Sam was in a
little suit. Someone had snapped a picture of the two of us dancing, and Brian
had gotten it enlarged a few years ago. Again, the glass was shattered. Looking
closer, it looked like a knife, a tiger, Freddy Krueger, something had slashed
the picture.

What the
hell?

If the broken
glass and torn pictures were not enough, I noticed something even more strange.
Brian had chosen five pictures—me with each of the kids—and enlarged them to 11
by 14. He’d had each one beautifully framed, and they hung in the breakfast
nook. On each one my face had been removed.

And then I saw
the back door. It had been shattered. The screen door was torn off the hinges
and now lay on the patio, and the wood door looked like it had exploded.

Inescapably,
the fear was there, and I ran to the front of the house. The kids were all
standing by the van, and I called to Sam and Carey.

“Sam, call 911.
Someone broke into the house. Carey, you and Jimmy take the girls to Bee’s.”

They just stood
there and looked at me.

“MOVE!” I said
loudly.

Sam yanked his
cell phone out of his pocket, and Carey rounded up Jimmy and the girls. The
boys each took one of the girls by the hand, and they walked quickly down the
driveway. Carey looked back at me, fear on his face. I nodded at him and gave
him a tight smile.

“Mom, get away
from the front door,” Sam said to me. “The cops are on their way.”

Tears fell down
my face.
Who would do this?

He saw her slowly look out the back
door. She looked so scared, and yet, she was so beautiful.

He had also
seen another woman go into the house the night before. This woman registered
with him, but he wasn’t sure why. Her name escaped him, so, in his mind, she
was The Woman. The Woman was angry—so angry and so strong. She just ripped the
screen door off the hinges and kicked the wood door in. He knew he wasn’t
strong enough to stop her—not yet. So he had stood by and watched as The Woman
broke all the pictures.

In those
pictures, the beautiful woman—the one he had watched for so long—laughed with
children, happy children. She kissed their cheeks, and they hugged her back.

He watched as
she wiped the tears from her beautiful face. He guessed the kids were still
outside, as he hadn’t heard or seen them. He was grateful they hadn’t been home
the night before.

He was sure if
they had been, The Woman would have killed them.