“How about you, Camila?” he said when Juliette was completely ready. “I apologize for not asking earlier whether you’d like to come with us, but you are welcome.”
“No, thank you. I think a wake is for immediate family,” Camila said, echoing Jeanne.
“You feel like family to me,” Brian observed.
“Thank you for that, but others might not feel the same. I prefer to stay here.” She then pulled Brian to the side and said in a lowered voice, “With Jeanne gone, Juliette seems to be reverting back to her silent mode. She’s hardly talking again.”
“Oh, no,” he said. “Good grief! That’s not encouraging. What’s your opinion? Should I rethink taking her to the wake?”
“No, I’m convinced she wants to go,” Camila said. “She wouldn’t have been so involved in picking out a dress and her hairstyle if she didn’t. Just keep it in mind that the whole situation is extremely stressful for her.”
“That’s understandable,” Brian said, thinking of his own ambivalence. “All right, let’s get it over with.”
As they exited the house, he complimented Juliette on how lovely she looked but got no response. Nor did she speak as they descended the steps in the front yard when he asked how she felt about going to the wake now that they were on their way. The only response he got was when he asked her if she had enjoyed meeting Jeanne. The answer was a simple yes without any elaboration.
The trip only took a few minutes, and the only minor problem was Juliette navigating the roughly striated street in her patent-leather shoes when they needed to cross to the other side. As they got closer to the O’Briens’, which was also one of the very few single-family homes in Inwood, they could see about a dozen people standing in the small front yard and a few more on the front porch, all engaged in small group conversations and mostly maintaining a reasonable amount of social distancing. All were wearing masks, including the handful of children who were present. Many of the adults were holding cut-crystal glassware, which Brian assumed contained Jameson whiskey. Despite the masks, he recognized most people although there were a few he couldn’t place. Over the years he’d met almost all of Emma’s many relatives at various holiday gatherings. Emma had three older brothers with families, and Emma’s mother and father had a total of five siblings altogether. Brian also recognized a few of his relatives on his father’s side, including an uncle who was a retired NYPD officer. He didn’t see any of his siblings, but assumed they’d merely not yet arrived. None of them were currently living in Inwood.
After coming through the front gate of the proverbial white picket fence and heading for the steps up to the front porch, Brian nodded to a number of people and he also thanked those who were close enough to voice their condolences, but he didn’t stop. As he and Juliette gained the porch, Hannah appeared from within the house as if she had been watching for them.
“Welcome, you two,” Hannah said with a kind of nervous energy. Then, taking Juliette’s hand, she added: “Come, Juliette. Come and say a proper goodbye to your beautiful mother.” She then scooped Juliette up in her arms and headed indoors. Brian was mildly taken aback by her fervor, but realized it made sense given that Emma had been the beloved baby as well as the only girl with three older brothers.
Suddenly bereft of his daughter, he was besieged by well-wishers. Brian thanked all and touched elbows with a number of others, all the while wondering what was happening with Juliette inside the house. As soon as he could, he excused himself and went inside.
In the foyer Brian noticed the mirror above the console table had been turned around. It was a tradition he’d seen before at Irish wakes he’d attended. Pausing, he glanced around the interior of the O’Briens’ large house. In the background he could hear Celtic music playing softly, and a dozen-plus people were standing in small groups in the living and dining rooms conversing quietly.
In the dining room the table was heaped with food, mostly sandwiches. Brian’s father-in-law, Ryan O’Brien, a large and considerably overweight man in his early sixties, was in the living room manning a makeshift bar on a bureau. To the right in a leaded-glass windowed alcove was the bier with a large, expensive-looking open coffin and a cascade of white flowers, mostly roses, which were emitting a pleasant aroma. From where he was standing he could see Emma’s body outfitted in a white dress with her head and striking red hair resting against a white satin pillow. The image gave Brian a physical and emotional jolt, but he was distracted by the sight of Hannah standing next to the coffin, holding Juliette in her arms. It was obvious Hannah was talking but because of the distance compounded by the background music, he couldn’t hear what was being said. Regardless, Juliette appeared frozen, staring at her mother with one hand around Hannah’s neck and the other still clutching Bunny.
Moving closer in hopes of hearing what Hannah was saying, Brian’s effort was thwarted by laughter coming from several male relatives grouped around Ryan. Just as he was getting close enough to hear, someone behind him called out his name. Turning, he saw his mother coming in his direction. She’d emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray of additional sandwiches even though the dining table was already heaped with them.
Momentarily torn between his daughter and his mother, he turned toward his mother as she rapidly approached.
“Great to see you two,” Aimée said. “How are you holding up, mon chéri?”
“Reasonably well,” Brian answered. “I’m just concerned about Juliette.”
“Have either of you eaten anything? We’ve got lots of food, with more coming.”
“I’m not hungry,” he said. The last thing he wanted to do was eat or drink.
“I’m glad you brought Juliette. I sensed you were reluctant. What changed your mind?”
“Jeanne Juliette-Shaw,” Brian said. “The woman I told you about from Megan Doyle’s office. She suggested I ask Juliette if she wanted to come, which I did, and Juliette agreed. It surprised me but maybe it shouldn’t. Jeanne seems to really understand children.”
“Well, I know how pleased Hannah is,” Aimée said. “She’s been beside herself waiting for you and Juliette to arrive.”
At that moment Brian and Aimée watched as Hannah leaned forward, allowing Juliette to tuck Bunny in alongside Emma’s right side at chest level. Then Juliette tentatively reached out with an extended index finger and touched Emma’s firm and lifeless cheek. Almost immediately Juliette pulled her hand back as if she’d touched something scorchingly hot and let out a whimper loud enough for both Brian and Aimée to hear.
His heart skipped a beat, and he stepped forward just as Hannah turned around and faced into the room. Seeing her father, Juliette reached out with both hands. Feeling instantly protective, Brian gladly took hold of his daughter, who quickly buried her head in the crook of his neck and wrapped her arms tightly around his head.
“Juliette was very good and said goodbye to her mother,” Hannah said. “And she gave her Bunny to keep her company. I’m very proud of her.”
Feeling Juliette holding on to him with surprising force, Brian was immediately concerned that the experience hadn’t been without some psychological pain, making him wonder if he’d made the wrong decision to bring her. It was yet another reminder that his life’s work had totally devolved to her needs.