Chapter Thirty-One

The funeral was the following Saturday.

Dozens of people filled the small church on Staten Island where Samantha and James had grown up: family, friends, co-workers of James, neighbors, and of course, Samantha, Carol, and Richie. Samantha was surprised by the turnout of people, many of whom she had never met. Her brother had been loved by so many.

The casket was, in accordance with James’ wishes, simple and hardly ornate, but a blossoming bouquet of white carnations and baby blue forget-me-nots adorned the top at Carol and Samantha’s request.

The longtime pastor of the church did the eulogy and spoke of James beautifully: he had known the West family since before the twins were born, and had done their father’s funeral when he passed. He knew what to say and when, and honored James’ memory better than anyone Samantha and Carol could have asked for.

The handful of pews were filled, and Carol, Samantha, and Richie sat in the front. Carol sat on one side of Samantha, crying silently as the pastor talked. Tears streamed down her face freely, and she held several bunched tissues in her hands, but didn’t bother to wipe her eyes: the tears wouldn’t stop.

Richie sat on Samantha’s other side, a hand resting protectively on her knee. He had been so good throughout the last week and a half – he was quiet but supportive, knowing exactly what Samantha needed and when, and sat up with her on several occasions as she cried through the night.

Katie sat in the row right behind them, crying softly and constantly wiping her eyes. She wore a thin black veil over her face, a possession of her mother’s: Katie came from an old-fashioned family, and her parents had flown out from Chicago to be there today. They had adored James.

Samantha sat silently between her mother and boyfriend, saying nothing. She held nothing in her hands, didn’t wipe away any tears, didn’t make a sound. Her eyes were remarkably dry, but they were emotionless and blank. The golden light had gone out of them, as if they had died with her brother. Like everyone else, she was dressed in black, and around her neck she wore a silver chain necklace with three tiny intertwining hoops that James had given her when they turned twenty-one. “For unity,” he had said. “Like the rings of Camelot. We’ll always be each other’s strength.”

Samantha fingered her necklace gingerly. Now, quite literally, her strength was gone.

Her world had been turned upside down – nothing was as it had been. Nothing felt right without James. She still felt as though she were in a horrible dream – a disturbing nightmare that just wouldn’t end – and she felt eerily disconnected from the outside world. Even as she sat next to her sobbing mother, she couldn’t shake the feeling that everything around her was just created out of her own nightmares, and emotions were not to be wasted on imagination.

But at the same time, she knew it was real. She had seen James the night he died, had seen his bandaged head and his lifeless body, the instrument that had once held a happy, loving, spirited young man full of life and ambition…but was now just an empty shell. Any perceptions of life that she had once held were shattered; the world as she knew it was gone.

What more could she deal with? She had withstood the test of an unfaithful relationship. She’d found the strength to keep going. She’d moved on from the pain and suffering Shane had caused her, gotten through a decade of heartache and immaturity, and eventually let go of him completely. She’d broken another man’s heart and wounded herself in the process, then summoned the strength and courage to overcome that and fall in love again.

But this…now she was being asked to deal with the loss of her brother – her twin, her best friend, her life support – and continue on living and experiencing the gifts of life while he was deprived of those privileges. It wasn’t fair.

None of it was fair.


Later that evening, after the eulogy and graveside memorial, after the guests had gone home and Richie took Samantha and the dogs to Carol’s house, after Carol had gone upstairs to bed – if only because she was too exhausted and emotionally drained to do anything other than crawl beneath the covers – Samantha sat up and watched the moon.

As she steadied her gaze on its bright milky glow, a thousand memories came unbidden to her mind, and she found herself unable to hold back the tears. They fell freely down her face as she ached for her brother, for their past and history, and for the future they no longer had.

Several hours later, she curled up on the couch with a blanket and fell into a fitful and restless sleep.

____________________________________

The next few weeks passed slowly as the world continued on recklessly, oblivious to how life had crashed into a barrier for Samantha and her family. Richie and the rest of the band left for the next slew of show dates on the tour, but not before he promised her that if she needed anything, he’d be by her side in a heartbeat.

Alex visited frequently, bringing Samantha things she needed and trying to keep her entertained so she wouldn’t be home alone, which was when she struggled the most. With Richie out of town, she needed all the companionship she could get. They’d go out for casual dinners or caught a comedic movie, always keeping things fun and light-hearted, though they never stopped at Red’s. Samantha’s heart twisted every time she passed the diner, filled with so many memories she wasn’t sure if she could ever step foot inside again.

If Samantha needed the company, Carol needed it more. Samantha began visiting her mom every weekend after the funeral, bringing the dogs and staying Friday night to Sunday night so they could be together. When she couldn’t be there during the week, other family members stopped by and did the same as Alex did for Samantha, keeping her company in that big, lonely house.

Samantha felt awful for her mother – she knew it was in some ways even harder on her, losing her son. She worried about her constantly, remembering the way things had been after their father had passed away, and keeping a close watch on her in case she fell into another depression.

Carol handled it fairly well, all things considered. She was broken-hearted and a grieving mother, naturally, but at the same time she summoned the strength to continue on with her life. She and Samantha both understood that they were all each other had now, mother and daughter who had lost a husband, father, brother, and son. They had to look out for one another more than ever now, and they both had to be strong not just for themselves, but for the other.

Samantha returned to the office and did her best to focus on her work so as not to sacrifice the quality of Dream. Michael was sympathetic about her situation and spoke with her privately, assuring her that she could take whatever time she needed if and whenever she needed it, and Samantha was grateful.

The piece on Shane’s company’s work had been a success, a four-page spread that chronicled the progress of the construction site and highlighted the efforts of Habitat For Humanity in the tri-state area, and the magazine had the promise of several follow-ups. The governor of New York traveled down to observe the construction and to talk to and thank the charity and contracting company personally, and Dream was right on it when he arrived, thereby becoming the first magazine to print a story about his visit. Their circulation and sales increased that month, which made Michael extremely happy, and despite everything she was dealing with, Samantha was quietly proud as well.

When the band got a small break in touring, Richie came home one weekend to stay with Samantha at Carol’s house. It was comforting for Samantha to have him there to talk to and confide in, and she appreciated his constant support.

“It’s funny,” she said thoughtfully, as they sat together on the couch late that Saturday night. “When you and I were apart, James was my confidante and my support. Now, he’s gone and I’m turning to you. It’s just ironic.”

Richie smiled gently. “Maybe that means something.”

Samantha considered that.

“I’m going to bed, sweetheart,” Richie kissed her on the forehead. “You know where I am if you need me.”

Samantha nodded and Richie headed upstairs. Samantha sat alone on the couch for a moment, then got up and wandered into the den, her father’s old office.

Though her father had passed away five years ago, she, along with James and Carol, had decided to preserve his office the way it had been for thirty years, to keep his memory alive. Now, Samantha quietly looked around at the pictures on the mantel and missed him more than ever.

Joe had been a wonderful father – loving, supportive, and kind – and despite his stressful job and the countless times he missed dinner, holed up in his office working, he was a devoted family man. Samantha’s favorite photo showed herself and James when they were five, matching brown mops on their heads, kicking a soccer ball with him in the back yard behind that very house. All three of them were laughing in the late morning sunshine, and Sam knew from her mother’s stories that it was early summer.

Samantha glanced over at a large portrait of Joe in the center of the mantel. The twins had inherited his looks – James always looked remarkably like him – and she studied the picture’s golden eyes for a while.

“I miss you Daddy,” she finally whispered. The picture’s eyes gazed back at her, smiling in her father’s signature way.

“James is there with you now,” her voice cracked as she swallowed the lump in her throat. “As I’m sure you know. Mom and I miss you both so much. But we’re taking care of each other – please take care of yourselves too.”

She touched the picture gently, as if hoping to hear his answer, his promise that he would take care of himself and her brother. “I love you, Dad. Tell James I love him too.”

She left her father’s office and slowly made her way down the hall, passing more photographs in frames – frozen memories in time of her and James’ childhood, a visual timeline of their family and everything they had been.

Time had a funny way of changing everything, she realized. It had the uncanny ability to be there in abundance when people didn’t want it and had nothing to do with it, yet slip right by when they needed it most. It had the power to bring people together and drive them away, the gift of allowing them to change and grow, or the curse of making them change and fall apart. It was silent, always present but oftentimes completely taken for granted as people rushed through life with no regard for the significant effects it had on them.

It had given Samantha the opportunity to be with her brother, a wonderful person who had grown from a happy, playful boy into a free-spirited, kind and loving, generous man. It had gone by fast when she was becoming an adult, creating the illusion of a simple, absolute ‘forever’, and influencing her decision to marry someone when they were both still just kids. It had slowed down and made life painful for her when that marriage was destroyed. But then it brought her someone else, a person worth the long wait and struggle in the past. It gave her the chance to overcome that past and move on with the future. It was the single, defining factor in all life had to offer, providing the only way for events to fall into place and change to occur.

As Samantha came upon the living room, she saw the soft milky light falling upon the furniture, and noticed that the moon was full again. As she gazed up at it, for some reason, though she normally wasn’t one to do so, she said a small prayer.

It wasn’t a long prayer and it didn’t last long; it didn’t noticeably solve anything and it didn’t work any miracles. She was facing another one of time’s monsters that she’d have to deal with, and she’d have to figure out a way to get through it. She knew deep down that she had the power to do so, though it would take a lot of time and a lot of strength. But this time, she wouldn’t have to do it alone. Now, she had the help of someone else – someone who loved her with all his heart and would do anything for her. Someone who had been meant to cross her path and grab hold of her heart and never let it go – someone who had helped her start her life over in more ways than one, and would do so again.

Perhaps Richie was right – maybe James had been meant to help her along the path to finding that special someone, to be there while she sorted everything out and to guide her on the way. That almost didn’t seem fair – to only exist to help someone else – but Samantha believed that every person’s purpose on Earth was different. Maybe this was his purpose, and now that he’d taught her and given her everything he had, Samantha had to continue on her own. Now that she and Richie were together, James’ job was done.

And suddenly somehow, as she gazed up at the moon and whispered a saved prayer, Samantha knew everything was going to be okay.