Three years later, after another move, I sat on my deck in Ohio. Justin stepped out. “Dad, wrestling is cool. I love it.”
Vanessa, now sixteen, joined him, “Dad, they made me second in clarinet!”
I hugged them both. “Way to go, guys!”
The kids went to their rooms. Steaks sizzled on the grill. I pulled the bookmark from my book, placed it on the patio table, and read. Life was good.
*********************************
“Hun, I’ll get home when I can.” I said to Georgia. My job in Ohio was gone. I took an offer in New Jersey. We decided she would stay in Ohio, so Vanessa could finish her senior year of high school. Georgia and Justin would join me in Jersey in ten months. I stood on the New Jersey side of the Hudson River. Manhattan sparkled in front of me. Miles of buildings, windows full of light, stretched out in both directions – a dazzling display.
Back in my apartment, I settled into bed, picked up my book, and thought about the day my family could join me and see the view. I pulled my bookmark from my book and placed it on the covers beside me. It was worn after years of use. I spoke to it.
“We’ve been through a lot. We can get through more.”
I dozed off in my new surroundings. The book rested on my chest, rising and falling with each breath I took. My bookmark lay beside me. I turned in my sleep. The bookmark slid to the floor.
*********************************
Eleven months later, I sat in a chair reading. Georgia lay on the sofa. She’d been in New Jersey for three weeks. My son slept upstairs in his new bedroom. My daughter stayed in Ohio to attend college. Georgia stirred and moaned – her organs failing. While I was away, her liver failed and then her kidneys. I feared her end was near.
Her eyes opened. “Michael?”
“I’m here, Hun.”
“I’m thirsty. Can you get me a drink?”
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