Home From Within (29 page)

The rest of the evening was spent making phone calls to inform out-of-towners about the burial information. Jean could only attend the wake because Ray was having surgery on the day of the funeral. She apologized to Jessica ten times, even saying maybe they should reschedule the surgery so she could be with her all week. After a lot of placating, Jean finally agreed that Ray’s surgery was important and just being at the wake was the right dose of medicine Jessica needed. Matt’s family would also be at the wake, and Seth would arrive the following day to accompany Jessica to the funeral. Jessica called Matt again from her mother’s phone but got no answer. Seth also phoned, leaving messages at Aunt Mary’s and Cousin Liam’s, and tried to reassure Jessica that Matt would know soon enough.

C
hapter
23

He and Paulina were returning from a horseback ride when Jessica arrived home from work. He did not put his horse in the stall but instead asked if she would like to take a ride. It was cold, with only thirty more minutes of daylight and the snow was at least three feet high, but the paths had been worn down and the ride, through snowcapped trees, was breathtaking. Jessica reluctantly agreed. They rode for a few miles, her father talking about the weather, nature, sometimes mentioning things he used to do as a youngster on the farm where he grew up. Jessica had been learning more about his history with all his years of visiting and noticed he became more open in the exposed air of the woods. He had grown up with and owned horses . . . until something happened. Her father would always stop short, breathing heavy, a coarse look on his face. While Jessica still shied away from direct and exploratory questions, she embraced his words, storing them in her mind to ask Aunt Lodi about at a later time.

After a few hours of replaying past scenes with her father on the farm and fishing in the creek, she grabbed the handle and unlocked past memories of Paul. Jessica intertwined her hands together and clutched them close to her heart, trying to keep it from breaking apart. The last time she saw him—alive—he told her they would be together ‘now and forever,’ that he would be with her until she turned twenty-one, and could finally be introduced to her parents as her boyfriend. The image hurt so bad; loss was hard no matter what way it was delivered.

Around three-thirty in the morning, Jessica decided to drink some NyQuil, believing there was no way her mind or body would allow her to have a restful couple of hours of sleep.

When the alarm on Jessica’s cell phone rang, she could barely twist around to shut it off because her arms felt like sandbags. Gently, she placed her hands on her face, feeling around to see if she was in one piece. Opening her eyes to the brightness of the guest room made her feel upside down. Her mind and body were screaming for nighttime; daylight felt too hot on her raw emotions. Pulling herself up from the bed and resting on her elbows, she looked out the window. She felt annoyed with herself because she kept looking outside, expecting the beauty and peacefulness she would receive at her home in the UP. This window delivered only loneliness.

Paulina’s eyes were red rimmed as she slinked into Jessica’s room and crawled into her bed, clutching onto Kleenex and Chap Stick.

“Strange but putting this on my lips helps me stop crying,” she said.

Jessica smiled and pulled her in closer. “Whatever works, sweetheart.”

Paulina spoke up after a few minutes. “I miss Matt. I wish he were here. He needs to be with us.”

Jessica caressed her hair. “I know. I miss him too.”

“This hurts so much. I feel if he were here it would feel better.”

Jessica held in her tears. “Well, I’m sure wherever he is, he’s praying for us. I hope that gives you some comfort.”

“It does,” Paulina said quickly. “Yes, it does.”

The large house allowed for a lot of privacy, something Jessica was thankful for at the moment. When everyone met in the kitchen to eat before leaving, it was the first time anyone had set eyes on each other, all dressed in black, except for Aunt Lodi. She did not conform to the old law of black at wakes and funerals; instead, she wore turquoise and beads. Her mother’s eyes looked dull, but Jessica could see the disapproval behind them.

Aunt Lodi broke the silence. “I just want to say that I love you all and no matter what, we will
always
be together, as a family.”

Jessica thought the words were being directed toward her mother, but she could not be sure.

Her mother smiled weakly. “Yes. Family. Always.”

The stillness and stagnant air of the funeral home made Jessica uncomfortable. She had limited experience with death: Matt’s father, Herbert, and Paul. When she was younger, she attended wakes of former servicemen of her father’s, but she did not know them personally. They were just wax figures of hard-faced men.

Aunt Lodi and her mother brought framed pictures and placed them on a polished cherry wood table where the casket would normally sit. Some were random shots of them as a family before she was sent away and one of the only pictures they took together as a family, when Paulina graduated eighth grade. Jessica was surprised at one picture she had never seen. It was of her father, Aunt Lodi, and what looked like their parents. The picture was black-and-white, with a crease down the middle, but the faces were clear. Her father looked to be about six, Aunt Lodi ten, and they were sitting on fence posts, and behind them was a vast open range of crops, all neatly lined in rows. His mother stood next to him laughing but not looking at the camera, with her hand on top of his. His father stood next to Lodi looking content. Jessica picked up the picture to look deep at her father’s face; he looked free.

Jessica and her family stood next to the pictures while people Jessica did not know came and went. For a while, a long stream of bodies were waiting in line to pay their condolences as others milled around, sitting quietly on the chairs or looking at a few straggled pictures in the back. Most of the mourners were men, all of whom shared the same look of war shaded over their faces. Jessica recognized some of the men from past visits to her home and could pick out who was doing better than others, basing this observation on their teeth. She had learned from working in the pharmacy and small-town life that teeth were an indicator of how well one was getting along in life.

Jessica’s feet were not used to heels, and her legs were starting to show signs of fatigue even though she had three more hours to go. Paulina had gone upstairs to eat, and Jessica decided to take a rest on the blue couch in front, not to stray too far from her family.

“Jessica?” a voice beckoned from the side.

Jessica turned her head, looking at a woman with short black hair and beautiful cornflower eyes. Her heart leaped forward as she slowly stood up, shaking from the shock.

“Marilee . . . oh, God . . .” she said, as Marilee reached out and grabbed her. They cried in each other’s arms like babies, Marilee pushing her out to look at her, then pulling her back in.

“I can’t believe it’s you, after all these years, it’s you,” Marilee cried.

The two made their way to the back of the room holding hands and sat down on a love seat set off from the rest. Marilee said how sorry she was for her loss first, then dove into fifty million questions. Before Jessica could field them all, Paulina came back from eating upstairs. Jessica introduced her with pride and watched Marilee’s eyes as she figured out the math. Marilee squeezed Jessica’s hand tight and with a small smile acknowledged what did not need to be said.

After Paulina left Jessica’s side, Marilee asked if Paul knew.

“No,” Jessica said. “He never got a chance to know.”

Marilee looked at her cautiously, but before she could utter another word, the other Ripps arrived. Jessica was embraced by her past: Eddie, now married with four kids of his own, was a policeman and lived in the same neighborhood they grew up in. In fact, his twins were currently freshman at Heritage. Julie was a nurse at a local hospital, married to a firefighter, with three children, also living a few blocks from her parents’ home. Barbara married a lawyer; they lived downtown and had two children. According to Marilee, Tommie lived in Georgia, moving up the ranks of the Army with his wife and four children, and Kathy was the woman’s volleyball coach at Ohio State. She had two kids and was the only one divorced, something Marilee did not want to expand on. Marilee was a drama teacher and was married to a Humanities teacher; they both taught at Heritage and had three children: Sophia, Curtis, and Michael.

Marilee’s mom, Sue, grabbed Jessica up in a Ripp hug. “I hope you will never leave us—Marilee—again.”

Sue and Bob were doing great—lost 150 pounds between them both, walked every day to keep in shape, and ate a low-carb, sometimes gluten-free diet. Jessica smiled when Marilee rolled her eyes after her mother said that. Looking at the Ripps gathered in a loving circle around her brought joyfulness beyond words; Marilee’s family made her feel complete, just like Matt’s.

Jessica spent the next three hours introducing and talking with the two family systems that helped shape the woman she became. Jean arrived just in time to join the reunion, hitting it off with Marilee the minute each opened their mouths.

At the end of the night, Aunt Lodi stood up and thanked everyone for coming to celebrate the life of James Lars Turner. She shared the history of a small-town farm boy who loved nature and jumping from the top of the barn loft to the bottom haystack. A boy who ran for hours in the woods, pretending he was Tom Sawyer or a Comanche warrior. A boy who picked wildflowers for his mother and made sure his father had enough snuff to make it through a day. And someone who loved his country so much that he enlisted in the Army right out of high school. Who became a member of an elite force, a Green Beret, and served his country in Vietnam for three tours. Meeting his best friend, Bob, and moving to Chicago where he would meet his eventual wife, Katherine.

“Jim was a man who made sure those around him were protected.” Aunt Lodi’s tender voice cracked. “My brother was someone I came to rely on too. Even though I was oldest, and I bossed him around sometimes.” Jessica heard people chuckle. “Jim kept me safe, and for that, I owe much of myself to him and his family.”

Jessica’s mother stood up next to Aunt Lodi, Kleenex in hand, and gave her ten-second version of thanking people for coming. The funeral director announced that the service would be held tomorrow at Priest Woods, by the pavilion closest to the river at ten thirty with lunch at Jim’s favorite restaurant, The Freilassen.