Jenny knelt in front of the small headstone, reaching out with one finger to lightly trace the inscription —Michael Jasik 1996 – 2014 – Beloved Son. It had been two years since the funeral, but there were times she forgot it wasn’t just yesterday. Those were days when the grief snuck up behind her and then slammed her in the gut like a battering ram. Those were the days when she was a total wreck. Unable to work. Unable to do much of anything except maybe breathe.
And even that was a challenge.
She didn’t know why she kept coming here. She knew Michael wasn’t here. At least not in spirit. According to the preachers of her childhood, Michael was either in heaven or hell. There was no in between with those men who spoke of a God who would rain fire and brimstone down upon the sinners of this world. Jenny always had a hard time relating to a God like that. Perhaps that’s why she stopped going to church as soon as she could move away from home and escape the mandate that “you will go to church as long as you live in my house.”
Even though she never acknowledged it, a small part of her did know exactly why she came here so often. Besides the officers at the Little Oak police department, Michael was the only one who knew that Jenny had shot a man two years ago.
Her grief was split between the loss of a son and the loss of a piece of herself.
She could share that with Michael.
She had also been able to share that with Steve. Warm, wonderful, wise Steve who had been the first man since Ralph that she had even considered as someone who could be a permanent fixture in her life. The chemistry was there. They both recognized it as they worked together on that drug task force. Then, it had been professional boundaries that kept them on either side of a distinct line. Afterward, they had tried to build something, but they both just found it too hard to try to be normal, when nothing was normal in either of their lives.
So, she had gone back to being a single woman without a relationship.
Most days, that was tolerable. She had her kids. And her friends. And her work. And her wonderful business partner. But it had been a long time since she had a companion, in bed and otherwise. That one person you would call first with good news, or bad, who was not your girlfriend. And someone to snuggle against in bed on cold winter nights.
