That weekend I put a message on my answering machine saying I was out of town then turned the ringer on the phone off. I closed my blinds and locked my doors and claimed the weekend for my thoughts and myself. For two days I got enough sleep and enough to eat to live.
I poured myself over photo albums, staring at pictures of my family, my friends, every person I had ever loved. I relived memories both old and new and thought about all the things that had ever made me happy in my life.
I stared at Manny's face as he aged. A baby, a boy, a man. He would never be so many things. He would never be a husband, a father, a grandfather. My kids would never know his laugh or his sense of humor. They would never have him to turn to when they were upset with me. He was my single greatest gift and he would never be a gift to my children. The thought hurt, it made my heart ache just a little more. Then I would smile at a memory, a joke, a time in my life when my big brother could soothe the troubles of a woman who needed him most.
There were pictures of my father and Jake and Eric and Quin. Pictures of Lindsay and Trey and Josh. Ashton and Ashley as well as Julie had places in my album. Family photos, individual photos, photos taken in a moment to capture a time of pure joy. Even a single solitary photo of my father, Jake, Eric, Quin, Manny, me and my mother I knew had been taken just months before her death. I went through pictures of my mother, trying to imagine a single memory I had of her. I came up empty. She was a picture, a name, a woman the people I loved remember but to me she was as real as any other picture of someone I have never known.
Would I have been a stronger woman if I had known this woman? Or would I have been weaker, unable to go on after losing Manny? Was it possible to miss a woman I had never known? I suppose so since my heart seemed to ache endlessly for the love of a woman who I never got the chance to love.
"Is there a reason I loose the people I need the most in my life?" I asked, the silence of an apartment that seemed filled with pain and guilt and heartache.
Something deep down inside of me spoke up then. Something that ached to be heard and something I had silenced for far too long. My soul, my heart, my mother's voice, my brother's love. Whatever it was it would no longer be ignored. The quiet strength of it demanded to be heard and my heart no longer had the strength not to listen. It was the answer to my question. It was an answer that I finally understood with my entire being.
Monday morning I walked straight to Denise's office and knocked on the doorframe as I pecked in. It was comforting the way she never closed her door to the rest of us.
"Hey, Jack. Come on in," she greeted, waving me in.
"Morning, Denise. How was your weekend?" I asked, taking a seat in front of her.
"Good. Alex called and I went and saw Annie and the kids. How was yours? You feeling better, honey?" she asked, A.J.'s kind brown eyes looking at me from her gentle face. She was the closest I had even known to a mother and she loved me like I was her daughter. I would always love her as one.
"A little. It's still hard but it's gotten a little easier. Especially with so many people who love me including that wonderful son of yours. He had a few choice words for me that I needed to hear," I said, smiling.
"Alex has that way about him. He's a good man," she answered, smiling at the thought of her only biological child. She may have borne only A.J. but she was the real Backstreet mother to us all.
"One of the best," I agreed. "He's the perfect little brother that I never had. He loves me and he pisses me off and he usually does it all in the same breath," I teased. "That's my Alex," Denise laughed. "Denise, I need to take a week off," I blurted out.
"Jack, is everything ok? You never take time off," she said, looking at me, her eyes even more concerned.
"I'm fine. In fact, I think aside from Manny I've never been better. There's just something I need to take care of. Would it be all right? I wouldn't ask, but this is something I've needed to do for a long time," I explained, a smile slowly spreading across my face.
"Of course. It's fine. Go, do what you need to. We'll be fine for a week," she assured me, returning my smile.
"Thank you so much, Denise. I'll see you in a week," I said, standing and moving toward the door.
"Jack," she called out and I stopped.
"Yes?"
"Give the guys my love," she said, a wide grin on her face.
"Sure thing," I answered, grinning and disappearing out the door.
Three hours later I was on a flight to Paris where I knew the Boys would be for the next two days. I had never done anything like that before, but for the first time in my life I was following my heart and it was leading me to France. I was scared and excited, nervous and thrilled at what lay ahead of me. In a week I could return to Orlando on top of the world or I could come back with it crumbled in the palm of my hands. My life was standing on a cliff. Would I soar or fall? One answer led me to that question and one man held that answer.
The scariest thing in the world is to do something that could change your
world. Sitting on that plane I wondered if I was crazy. Was I flying
thousands of miles to do something when my brain kept telling me I would
probably chicken out? If I was it was too late to back out. I was hundreds
of miles above the ocean.
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