“Yes, with a little help from the pandemic.”
“Sounds like a perfect storm,” Brian said. “A storm I’m caught in as well. My wife and I started a personal security company just as the pandemic was starting in Wuhan, China. There’s been almost no work for us since it arrived here in the US.”
“You’ll notice on the card that the office landline phone number is crossed out,” Jeanne remarked. “But the mobile number is still operative. So please call if you decide you’d like to get ahold of me for some professional advice regarding your daughter. Or yourself, for that matter. Having recently lost my spouse, I can imagine what you are going through.”
“Do you live in Inwood?”
“I do. On Seaman Avenue. My unit overlooks Emerson Playground.”
“That’s one of my daughter’s favorite spots,” Brian said, managing a smile.
“I can understand why,” Jeanne responded. “Where do you live?”
“West 217th Street.”
“Nice! I’m familiar with the neighborhood. Do you by any chance live in one of those darling single-family homes?”
“I do, and I’d like to keep it from MMH Inwood’s predatory hands,” he said, his mood going dark and anxious again.
“Amen,” Jeanne responded, giving him a sympathetic look.
Chapter 20
September 1
As Brian came in through the front door of his house, he had no idea what to expect. No one had texted him for the two-plus hours he’d been away. The first thing he noticed was the soundtrack from a PBS cartoon coming from the kitchen; it sounded like Curious George. Thankfully there was no arguing or crying. The second thing he heard was Aimée and Hannah talking in the living room. Aimée waved and beckoned him to come in.
“Did you have any luck?” she questioned.
“It depends on what you mean by luck,” he said. “I did retain a lawyer. His name is Patrick McCarthy, he was in Erin’s class in elementary school, and he seems competent enough although he looks younger than I expected.”
“I’m sure he’ll be good,” Aimée reassured him. “It’s a fine family. And his father is a lawyer, too.”
“I also retained a medical billing advocate. It’s Megan Doyle, the one you mentioned helped a neighbor. I have to say she seems very professional although she looks even younger than the lawyer. The important thing is that she’s confident she can lower Emma’s hospital bill significantly. It crossed my mind that she might even be a bit overconfident, but we’ll see.”
“I’m pleased to hear you’ve taken my advice. She certainly aided Alana Jenkins. But we want to warn you about Juliette. She’s not doing so well.”
“What’s wrong?” After taking the sound of the cartoon coming from the kitchen as a modicum of promising news, this was not what he wanted to hear.
“She refuses to talk to either one of us.”
Brian nodded while replaying in his mind Jeanne’s warning about regression.
“And she won’t eat,” Aimée continued. “Camila has really risen to the task and bent over backward, even making her favorite breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast strips with sugar. To give Camila a break, I sat with Juliette for a time, trying to get her to interact with me, but I had no luck. It’s such a change from yesterday afternoon when we took her to the Church of the Good Shepherd, and she was acting herself. Now all she wants to do is watch cartoons, and she cries if anyone tries to interfere.”
“That’s not good,” he said. “All right, I’ll go in and see if I can turn things around.”
“Before you do, how are you doing?” Aimée asked, catching Brian off guard.
As if his mindset were poised on a knife blade, as soon as Aimée asked her question, he felt a wave of emotion wash over him. She saw it and responded by standing up, coming over to him, and giving him a long hug. Brian didn’t resist. When she finally let go, he wiped the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand. “Sorry,” he managed.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” Aimée insisted. She pulled him toward the couch where she’d been sitting. “Before you see to Juliette, join us for a moment. Hannah has some news she needs to share with you.”
Lacking the strength to resist, Brian sat and sighed, sounding like a balloon losing its air. Hannah spoke up immediately. “I’m happy to say I’ve made a lot of progress,” she began. She moved forward where she was sitting on the opposing couch. “I’ve been in touch with Riverside Funeral Home, and they have been most helpful. As soon as Emma is prepared, which I’ve been told will be in a few hours, they will bring her to our home for a proper wake, which will start this afternoon and continue overnight. Some family members and even neighbors have offered to help with food, drink, and other preparations like candles and flowers and arranging the house. How does all this sound to you?”
Hannah paused in her monologue and looked at him for some kind of response. Brian didn’t know how he felt about all this traditional rigmarole but was unwilling to openly object even if he did. It was so apparent to him that Hannah was trying to come to terms with her daughter’s death by attending to all the details. Once again, he wished he and Emma had discussed death in some form or fashion so he’d have some idea of what she would have wanted. If he had to guess, he thought she’d want her mother to decide if that could somehow be a help. With that in mind, all he did was nod.
“Okay,” Hannah said, as if relieved by Brian’s tacit agreement. “For tomorrow, I have arranged a funeral mass at the Church of the Good Shepherd, followed by interment at Woodlawn Cemetery. I hope you don’t mind, but we have gone ahead and covered the expenses.”
“That’s very generous of you,” he managed to say. He wasn’t one who expected or generally accepted handouts, but this was an exceptional time, and he was grateful, considering the state of his finances.
“We’re happy to help, knowing your security business is struggling,” Hannah said, offering him a sympathetic look. “The one thing I’d like to ask you to do is to alert some of Emma’s NYPD friends and colleagues about her passing even though attendance will be limited at both the wake and the funeral mass because of the pandemic.”
“I can do that,” Brian said. It also occurred to him that at the same time it might be an opportunity to at least float the idea of his returning to the NYPD with the ESU commander, Deputy Chief Michael Comstock. With Emma gone, he truly had no idea how much enthusiasm he still had about Personal Protection LLC, especially with the ongoing pandemic.
“Good!” Hannah voiced, slapping her knees with the palms of her hands before getting to her feet. “I’m sorry to have to leave you two to handle Juliette for the time being, but I have to get home to make sure everything goes smoothly. There’s so much to do.”
“We understand,” Aimée said. “We’ll see to Juliette, and thank you for bearing the burden of the wake and the funeral.”
“It’s the least I can do,” Hannah said with a wave of dismissal. She turned around, hurried into the foyer for her shoes, and disappeared out the front door.
For a moment mother and son eyed each other.
“She’s a whirlwind,” he offered at last.
Aimée nodded. “She needs to be, and you are generous to allow it.”
“I don’t have the energy to interfere. Besides, I don’t know what Emma would have wanted other than not wanting her mother to suffer.”
“Je comprends,” Aimée said. “Besides, your worry at the moment really has to be Juliette. My mothering instinct tells me she is going to need a lot of your attention. I’m more than willing to help, but I’m afraid the major burden will fall on you.”