Chapter 7
March 12, 2006
Kristin's memorial service was over. The family was back at the house for dinner. Jerry's wife, Ellen had come to the house that morning, to help Rachel prepare for the crowd. Rachel had accompanied the children to the service. She had felt horribly out of place at first, but since Kevin had shown no interest in keeping Jemma and Aaron with him, she had decided that she had better go. And, in hindsight, it had been fine. She knew practically everyone in the family, and they all understood exactly why she was there.
In addition to the food that she and Ellen had prepared, almost everyone had brought a dish with them. Dinner was buffet-style and people were scattered throughout the house. The afternoon had begun on a somber note, but as time passed natural family affection and shared memories were beginning to brighten the mood.
Rachel had decided that she could be most helpful by keeping the children occupied, and accordingly had gathered everyone between the ages of one and ten and moved them into what Jerry referred to as 'the back parlor.' She set the older children to helping the little ones with coloring and reading to them, while she entertained Jerry and Ellen's toddler and Brian and Leighanne's thirteen-month-old, Ashley.
From time to time, the mothers attached to the various kids would look in and usually stop to chat. Finally, Tim appeared at the doorway.
"Hi, Rachel," he grinned. "Didn't bargain on this I'll bet."
"No," she chuckled. "But it's just fine. Your family has an incredible track record on well-behaved kids. They're a pleasure."
"Don't let that get out, Rachel," he laughed. "Every mother in this house will think you're completely crazy." He smiled down at her. "The fact that I know you're crazy is a secret that I promise to guard with my life. Anyone who can do what you've done for Jemma and Aaron-especially Aaron-in the last seven weeks, deserves to have her secrets kept."
"It's just love and discipline," she said quietly. "Same things you use."
"I know, honey." He lowered his voice so that only she could hear him. "But I use 'em on my own kids. You're going out of your way for kids that aren't even yours. I can't tell you how special that is."
"Thank you, Tim."
He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I've got to get home," he said. "Tracy's mom is at the house with the thundering herd, and Tracy's probably had just about all she can handle of them for today." He paused and grinned. "Though you'd never hear her say that. I swear, you'd think those boys were angels from heaven to hear her talk about them now. But wait until the baby's born and they're back home for a month-she'll be ready to tether them in the barn with the cows."
"Tim! I'm going to tell her you said that!" Rachel grinned.
Tim smiled and waved good-bye from the doorway. Neither he nor Rachel noticed Aaron watching them from the corner.
"Jemma," he whispered. "Does Uncle Tim love Rachel?"
"No, silly," Jemma retorted. "Uncle Tim loves Aunt Tracy!"
"Then why did he kiss Rachel?"
"Because he likes her, Ri." Jemma was getting impatient with this, Aaron could tell.
"Does Daddy like Rachel?"
"I guess so-why?"
"Daddy didn't kiss Rachel," he pointed out.
"Well-Daddy's only been here since yesterday. Uncle Tim's been here for always." Jemma got up and walked away. Aaron thought about it and decided that he didn't like Uncle Tim 'liking' Rachel.
Eventually, Brian and Leighanne reappeared to collect Ashley and three-year-old Harrison. Rachel smiled as Brian picked up the wiggling little bundle and Leighanne got her into her coat.
"She's a charmer," Rachel grinned. "Got her Daddy wrapped around her little finger, I'll bet."
"You have no idea," Leighanne sighed. "She's probably already beyond hope of redemption from the spoiling that's been going on since she was born."
Brian grinned. "Nah. Can't spoil 'em when they're this little. And speaking of spoiled, where are your two adorable charges?"
Rachel laughed. "Over there, minding their own business." She looked up at Brian. "Do you really think I'm spoiling them?"
"No," he said with sudden seriousness. "Not one bit more than they deserve to be. Tim and Harry have told me-you're obviously just what they need."
"I haven't seen Kevin this afternoon," Rachel said hesitantly. "How's he doing?"
"He disappeared into his room as soon as we got back from the service," Brian sighed. "I tried to get him to come down for something to eat, but he-um-he just wanted to be by himself."
"It's just my opinion," Rachel said quietly. "But wouldn't it help him more to be around the people who knew her and who could be supportive of his grief?"
Leighanne gave Brian a sharp look, but said nothing. "I guess each of us has to handle it in our own way, Rachel," he said. "Kevin's always dealt with it by being alone."
* * *
It was nearly eight in the evening when the last of the family said good night. Rachel, Ellen and Jerry finally shut the door and began the clean up. Rachel excused herself and got Jemma and Aaron ready for bed. After they had said good night to Uncle Jerry and Aunt Ellen and their cousins, Rachel shooed them upstairs and into bed.
As she came back to the kitchen, she overheard Jerry grumbling to Ellen. She stopped in the hallway, not wanting to intrude.
"El, I tried. If it had been just me, I'd have kicked the damn door down and yanked him out of there by the collar. But Tim and Brian both said 'Leave him alone', and Harry backed them up. I'm not going to fight all three of them-even if I know they're dead wrong."
"You think they're wrong, Jerry," Ellen said quietly.
"No, Ellen. I know they're wrong. This has been going on for three years now. And when Mom passed away, it just got worse. He's killing himself by inches. Maybe not physically, but emotionally he's heading over the edge." Rachel heard a sob. "If something doesn't happen soon, they can just lock him away. Shit!"
"Shhh, honey." Ellen's voice was soft and soothing. "God won't let him go that far."
"God's going to need all the help he can get on this one," Jerry sighed.
* * *
At ten-thirty, Rachel said thank you and good night to Ellen and Jerry and helped them get their kids into the car for the ride home. She locked the door and began to turn out the downstairs lights. She glanced into the den as she reached for the wall switch. The scrapbook was sitting on the desk. Curiosity got the best of her and she sat down to look at it.
On the inside of the cover was a picture of Kevin and Kristin taken at their wedding reception. They looked happy and very much in love. Under the picture was lettered 'Kevin and Kristin-first dance'. Pasted onto the first page was their wedding announcement from the local newspaper, along with a wedding invitation. The next couple of pages contained articles from various magazines and newspapers that talked about the wedding and Kevin and Kristin in general.
Then Rachel turned a page and there was another local newspaper announcement, dated August 6, 2001. 'Richardson-Born August 3rd, to Kevin and Kristin Richardson, a daughter, Jemma Ann, at Lexington Children's Hospital.' It was accompanied by a number of snapshots of Jemma in her hospital crib, and with Kevin, Kristin and her Grandma Ann, all of them carefully labeled. There were also a few articles from magazines, which told the world that Kevin 'Backstreet' was a Daddy. There followed more pages of pictures of Jemma and her family at home, tracking Jemma's growth from infant to toddler.
A separate page held pictures of Jemma with people identified as her maternal grandparents. That page also contained a newspaper death notice for Kristin's mother, dated January 26, 2003.
The next page was split. The top half was devoted to Aaron's birth announcement, proclaiming his birth date to be March 9th, 2003, and a couple of pictures in the same vein as those with Jemma's birth announcement. The bottom half of the page was bordered in deep purple. Centered in that section was the newspaper article that eulogized Kristin Willits Richardson. Rachel shuddered. The fact that the eulogy occupied the same page as Aaron's birth announcement raised the hairs on the back of her neck. She turned the page quickly. The succeeding pages held more photos of both children, now noticeably minus both parents. And then came the artwork that she had seen Kevin looking at the night before.
Rachel shook her head as she gently closed the book. If Kevin was brooding over this every time he came home, then she could understand why he was drinking so heavily. She couldn't condone it, but she understood it. She sighed. It had been an exhausting day, and she was glad it was over. She flipped off the last downstairs light and went up the stairs. As she reached the top, she saw Aaron, standing in the middle of the hallway.
"Aaron? Honey, why are you up?" she asked gently. "Come on. Back to bed now."
He looked up at her with anguished eyes. "Rachel-my Daddy's crying," he whispered.
"What sweetie?" she asked.
"My Daddy's crying. Listen." And then she heard it. Unmistakable sobbing from the master bedroom. "Will you go help him, Rachel?"
"Oh, Aaron, I don't think I can-."
"Yes, you can. Please Rachel," he pleaded. "You always help me. And Jemma when she has bad dreams." He was nearly in tears, and Rachel could only focus on keeping him calm. It dawned on her then, just how much Aaron depended on her. And she suddenly wondered how much Kevin had depended on his mother. Maybe he hadn't always handled everything by being alone.
"All right, sweetheart, I'll try," Rachel said. "But you've got to promise me that you'll go back to bed and go to sleep. Okay?"
Aaron wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "I promise, Rachel. Just please help my Daddy so he doesn't have to cry any more."
She settled Aaron back into bed, and came out into the hallway again. She could still hear the sobbing as she approached the door. She tapped lightly.
"Kevin?" she called softly. "Can I come in?" The crying stopped. She heard him moving around. Finally, the door opened but she only caught a fleeting glimpse of his face before he turned away and let the door swing open.
She stepped into the room and nearly tripped over something on the floor. There were no lights on, and the moonlight coming in the windows wasn't strong enough to make up for it. She could see that he was sitting on the bed, but couldn't tell much more.
"Whaddya want?" he slurred. "I don' 'magine anyone wans ta say G'night ta me, now do they? It was jus' my wife that the service was for."
There was no way to respond to that. "Kevin-can I turn on a light?"
"Sure-why not. You're gonna get ta clean it up in the mornin' anyway. What the hell, I'll even turn it on for ya." There was click and the lamp on the bedside table blazed on. Rachel gasped.
Chapter 8
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