Chapter Thirty Six

One week later

Jon sat with a pencil in his mouth strumming his well worn acoustic guitar, his brow furrowed in concentration. Stopping every few seconds to scribble a few lyrics under chords on a sheet, he resumed fingering the melody until he struck the right combination. Since getting back from Ireland, for whatever reason the creative juices were flowing and he’d spent everyday in the studio. Richie had flown back west to visit with Ava for a few days and naturally was now cursing Jon for finally finding his muse the minute Richie had stepped on the tarmac at LAX. He’d promised to be back for the weekend so in the meantime Jon was forging ahead on his own, tossing about harmonies and choruses in his head.

　

A sound outside made him crane his neck to look out the window to see what had distracted him. He just caught sight of the tail end of Dot’s SUV rolling over the gravel up the main driveway to the house. Kicking back on his swivel chair to roll closer, he watched as she got out, pulling a few shopping bags from the car after her. While Dorothea had full residence of the main house, with his purpose built studio on the grounds it made sense for him to keep it and the guest house for the band’s use. As she disappeared from his view, he continued staring at his former home, chewing pensively on the stub of pencil. That day when he’d left for Ireland, he’d left her a short voice mail telling her about Jenn’s parents and that he was going out there for a few days. She had never returned the call.

That in itself hadn’t been so surprising. It was obvious Dot had known there was something between himself and Jenn from that day on the farm. He was pretty sure it was what gave her the final push to give him the divorce papers. The date she’d had them drawn up though had been three weeks earlier, for some reason she’d waited……..perhaps in hope of a reconciliation?

Spitting a bit of lead out that had fallen away from the now sodden pencil, he tore his gaze away from the window and swivelled back to face the mixing room he had been working in. Apart from the odd goofy picture and newspaper clipping tacked to the walls here and there, they were otherwise bare of decoration. He always liked to remind the boys that they’d started their first record with no bullshit awards or sales hype and they didn’t need no ego boosting crap around them when they started working on a new record. After a few moments of listening to the silence around him, he flicked the pencil across the table and put his guitar back on it’s stand. Snagging his jacket off the chair where he’d flung it earlier he breezed out the door headed for the main house. He needed to talk things out with Dorothea for everyone’s sake.

The kitchen was empty and silent as he wandered in, the counter tops neat and tidy as ever. Picking up a stack of mail, he leafed through it quickly, sliding out the few that were addressed to him. Stuffing the envelopes in the back pocket of his jeans, he walked through to the main entrance hallway and stopped at the foot of the imposing staircase.

“Hey Dot? You up there?”

Hearing more shuffled noises, he climbed the three levels of stairs to the landing. Finding all the kids bedrooms empty he moved noiselessly along the deep carpeted hall down to the huge bedroom he had once shared with his wife. Leaning on the doorframe, he knocked lightly as he finally found her. Faced away from him, she was busily shaking clothes out from paper bags on the bed.

“Hey…”

Spinning around, she clutched at her heart in shock and swore.“Jesus Jon! You scared the hell out of me! Christ!”

Jon caught the brief flash of anger across her face as she turned away from him and continued to stiffly fold the clothes.

“How was your trip?” was her next icy response. She made it sound like he’d been away on vacation.

Shoving his hands in his jean pockets, Jon wandered across the room to look out across the lawns to the river. Searching for the right answer he paused before replying softly, “Emotional.”

“I’m sure.” was her curt response.

Jon bit his lip and forced himself to remain calm as he watched the dark waters flow smoothly by the river bank. The leaves on the tall trees nestled here and there along the edges were starting to turn amber and crimson in the low October sun.

“We need to tell the kids about our latest ….development.” He turned to face her, watching as she moved into the walk in closet.

“What development?”, the casual reply came floating back to him across the room. “That you’re screwing our daughter’s trainer?”

His fists clenched by his sides as he felt the heat flush his cheeks at her callous words. Striding over to the door of the closet, he glared defiantly at her. “You know damn well what development! At least you should do considering you were the one to get the damn papers drawn up!”

Dorothea looked up at him from where she was kneeling on the floor, sorting through drawers. Her face was contorted with fury as she spat back at him. “Get over yourself Jon, I wasted too many of my years sitting silently in the corner while you…” she gestured with her hands “….entertained yourself with whatever bimbo took your fancy.”

Getting to her feet, she pushed past him and strode into the bedroom defiantly. Jon stayed rooted to the spot, his jaw set like steel until her next words landed a punch to his guts.

“The kids know, I told them when you flew off to your latest conquest.” Her small laugh carried no humour. “As usual it’s left to me to be the actual PARENT around here!”

He stared at her in disbelief, his eyes widening with incredulity. “You told them we were getting divorced WITHOUT me being there? What the fuck Dot?” His heart pounded in his eardrums. “You had no fucking right!”

“NO JON! YOU had no fucking right to fly off to your God damn damsel in distress when your FAMILY needed you here!” Her eyes swirled in a dark storm of animosity as she wheeled around to yell at him. “Did you want them to read about it in the fucking paper? Or maybe have their friends tell them about it?”

She shook her head at him, “And do know what the really sad thing about it all was Jon? Steph and Jesse weren’t even surprised!” The bed creaked as she sat down heavily on it, leaning forward to bury her head in her hands.

Jon dropped his gaze to the floor, his shoulders slumped as he swallowed with some degree of difficulty. The weight of her words hit him like a sledgehammer mostly because he knew a lot of it was true. He should have been here.

Chapter Thirty Five

Jenn smiled as she gazed out the window, watching Jon grapple with the finer arts of the Gaelic game of ‘hurling’ that most Irish people were fanatical about. Mark had offered to give him a little lesson out in the garden now that the rain had finally relented and Jon had jumped at the chance, not having the first idea of exactly how difficult it was to pick a ball up on a wooden stick and hit it with as much force and as far as humanely possible. Mark was enjoying showing off to his new ‘rock star friend’ and she could see the frustration mounting in Jon’s face as he repeatedly swung at the ball and failed miserably.

She reckoned it was about time he let off a little steam, he had been as solid as a rock for her all throughout the funeral. Shaking her head in wonder, she marvelled at how well he had adapted to the ‘Irish’ way of things, talk about being thrown in at the deep end! She was full sure he had met every one of her living relations, neighbours and friends. At all times he had been the absolute gentleman, easily chatting with people about possibly every topic that existed under the sun. Of course, he had caused a bit of a stir about the village himself, once news broke that a bona fide rock god was in their presence. Naturally everybody was quite respectful taking into consideration the sorrowful occasion but on a light note there had been a few instances of some of the younger members of the village ogling for an autograph. Jon had of course quietly obliged and they had gone on their way happily after throwing guilty looks in her direction. Jenn had been grateful for the distractions and had been amused at their devious ways of catching Jon’s eye on the quiet.

　

She laughed aloud as Jon finally admitted defeat and fired the hurley stick into a nearby bush, a stream of profanities gushing from his mouth. Mark was doubled over, no doubt tickled pink that he had something ‘over’ his new best friend. Jenn watched as he clapped a hand on Jon’s shoulder to console him and said something she couldn’t quite make out from watching his lips. She smirked, it was obviously typically smart ass as Jon shrugged him off giving him the two fingered salute.

It was a wonder the two of them got on so well, they were practically the polar opposites of one another. Mark was a drinks rep for one of the big corporate beer names and spent his life in a suit that was always slightly too small for him, sweet talking all the pub owners into buying his wares. Jon on the other hand, well he spent his life behind a guitar and a mic stand travelling the globe in a private jet and entertaining thousands upon thousands of people night after night. Either way, both men had hit it off and for that she was glad.

Turning her attention to the sheet of paper she had been scribbling on she sighed heavily as she ticked off another item on the list. It had been Karen’s idea to write down everything that needed sorting after the funeral, bills to be paid, legal stuff to be taken care of etc. When she’d started the sheer volume of it all had threatened to engulf her but finally two days after the burial, most things had been addressed. Earlier today, she had gone for a walk on the beach with Jon, the bite of the wind off the Irish Sea clearing both their heads. They had talked long and hard about a lot of things but when Jon had quietly slipped in that Dorothea had started divorce proceedings she had stopped walking in the sand to stare in horror at him. Right there and then, Jenn had realised exactly how unbelievably unselfish he was. The guy had signed his divorce papers and then jumped on a plane to career across the Atlantic straight into her nightmare. Watching him stare hard out to sea as he spoke about the pending divorce, she had felt an incredible sadness for him. Ending a marriage no matter how long, must be one of the most difficult things in the world to endure.

They had walked on in silence for a time after that, fingers entwined, the crashing of the waves breaking on the shore providing the only background noise. Scrambling up on rocks under the cliff face at the far end of the beach, they had both gasped as the salty spray from a breaking wave stung their faces. Turning Jenn to face him as they balanced on the uneven boulders, Jon had tipped her face and stroked her cheek softly.

“You’re coming back with me right?”, he had softly asked.

She had simply smiled as she cupped her hands around his neck. “From the moment you showed up here, that deal was signed…”

A wave of relief had visibly washed over him, as his features relaxed and a broad grin broke out on his face, melting her heart all over again in an instant. In the first days after she’d arrived home in such turmoil, she honestly hadn’t known where her future had lain but from the minute she’d felt his arms around her and seen those piercing blue eyes melt in solidarity with her, she’d known. She’d loved and lost before - there was no way she was letting it escape her this time.

9/11

9/11 We will always remember

Go n-éirí an bóthar leat

Go raibh an ghaoth go brách ag do chúl

Go lonraí an ghrian go te ar d'aghaidh

Go dtite an bháisteach go mín ar do pháirceanna

Agus go mbuailimid le chéile arís,

Go gcoinní Dia i mbos A láimhe thú.

 May the road rise to meet you
May the wind be always at your back
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your fields
And until we meet again
May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.

Chapter Thirty Four

“Come on baby, you need to get some sleep.” Jon murmured softly into Jenn’s ear as he felt her sway in the seat beside him. It was just after midnight and the house was quiet again for the most part.

Family friends and neighbours were taking it in turns to sit with her parents throughout the night and Mark had just taken Karen home for the night despite her protestations. “But what if she needs me?” she had worriedly whispered to him when he had announced it was time to go. Mark had simply smiled and nudged her to look at the corner where Jenn sat with her head resting against Jon’s shoulder, his arm wrapped firmly around her. “I think she’s in safe hands for tonight honey.”

Karen had worried whether she had done the right thing in calling Jon, but her fears had been put firmly to rest once she saw how Jenn had melted against him outside in the rain. If Mark hadn’t have showed up with him when he did, she didn’t know what she would have done. Jon hadn’t left her side since, supporting her as she made small talk with the neighbours and most importantly when she had finally gone back to the room where her parents were laid out, simply holding her tight as she had released her pent up sorrow.

Jenn eventually let him lead her to bed, exhaustion finally overcoming her after he had helped her undress. Sliding between the blankets, her eyes closed as he lay down beside her softly stroking her hair. Feeling his heart beat soundly beneath her ear as she curled into his chest, soothed her beyond comprehension. A million questions had swirled in her head when he arrived but right now those answers could wait, all that mattered was that he was here, right when she’d needed him the most without even realising it.

A little while later, when he was quite sure she was sound asleep, Jon quietly eased himself off the bed and wandered to the kitchen in search of a drink. It had been a hell of a day since Mark had picked him up from the airport. He had wrestled with nerves throughout the nearly two hour drive it took to get down to Jenn’s childhood home. Mark had stayed quiet once he had brought him up to date on the funeral plans and they had travelled down in silence, apart from the odd comment on the passing countryside. He’d had no idea what to expect, but the antiquated yet solid stone bungalow that greeted them as they pulled into the driveway had instantly charmed him. Even in the driving wind and rain, the simplicity of the home warmed his heart. He could already envision a young Jenn growing up here amongst the crumbling stone walls and climbing roses. Mark had sworn quietly when they had passed the empty funeral hearses on the road up to the house. When he told Jon this meant Jenn’s parents had arrived at the house, his stomach lurched a little. He was lucky he knew, in that both of his parents were alive and well and he couldn’t fathom how it must feel to see both your parents coming home in caskets.

When they had gotten inside, Karen had been standing in the little hallway, pale and panic-stricken. Upon setting eyes on Jon she had frantically pointed out the window to the back, rushing into Mark’s arms at the same time. He was full sure a little piece of his heart had broken when he first saw her out in the rain, gasping for air. Without a moments hesitation he had yanked open the back door and was by her side in less than three strides. She had felt like a little rag doll in his arms, weak and shaking like a sick kitten, soaked to the bone by the incessant waves of rain.

Making his way to the kitchen, he paused at the door of the room where the coffins were. The candle light flickered softly on the walls and the air was still heavy with the musky smell of incense from the earlier prayers. Two elderly ladies sat along the back wall, eyes closed and hands clasped in silent prayer. Moving quietly into the kitchen, the sound of murmured conversation turned his attention to the large fireplace where two men sat hunched beside the embers of a small fire. Jon at a guess reckoned them both to be in their early seventies, the grey mop of hair on one and the shiny bald patch on the other giving their ages away. As he entered their chat ceased and they acknowledged him with smiles and nods.

“How’re ye…?” The man sitting to the right of the fireplace, raised a glass to him, the instantly recognisable copper liquid glinting from the glow of the fire. “Will ye join us, young fella?”

Jon grinned, anybody who called him a ‘young fella’ these days was alright by him! Pulling up a small stool, he gratefully accepted the whiskey that was passed to him.

“You’ll be the American then is it?” Feeling the liquid slowly burn down the back of his throat, Jon nodded and extended his hand. “That’s me - Jon - nice to meet you both.”

The two men shook gnarled hands with him in turn and introduced themselves as Jimmy and Séan from ‘down the road’ as they put it.

 “Tis a bad business alright, God rest their souls”, Jimmy shook his head sadly into his glass. “Decent folk were Mary and Paddy.”

“Aye, that they surely were…”, Sean nodded at Jon “Did ye get to meet them ever Jon?”

Jon shook his head grimly, his fingers cradling the heavy crystal glass. “No, I’m sorry to say I didn’t.” He took another sip of the liquid fire, feeling it’s warmth seep down to his toes. “Jenn told me great things about them though.”

Both men nodded their heads in approval as Jimmy tutted under his breath, “Ah sure poor Jennifer, a grand girl. She’ll be lost without them now.”

The three of them sat in easy silence, gazing at the small flames flickering every now and then from the few remaining coals in the hearth. Séan started to chuckle quietly and nudged Jon’s foot with his own.

“Sure I remember when Jennifer was only a young one, I had a cow calving late one evening and she was mad to stay and see the calf come out, do ye see?”, he hunched forward in his chair smiling at the memory, “Well sure it was nearly ten o clock at night be now, and there was no sign of this feckin calf coming and Paddy turned up lookin for Jennifer, cause it was a school night you know?” He looked questionably at Jon to make sure he was following his story.

When Jon smiled to indicate he was still listening, the older man licked his lips and carried on, “Sure she begged silly to stay but Paddy wasn’t havin’ any of it, said Mary’d have his guts for garters if he didn’t bring the child home, so….off they went,” he threw his arm up in the air, enjoying telling his story now he had such an avid audience in Jon.

“Young Jennifer was feckin raging, like a bull she was, but sure she had to go along with him. So anyways I carried on a bit more with the auld cow and no! - nothing was stirring in her.” Taking a long sip from his whiskey, he winked at Jon, “So I said to meself - ‘I’ll go in and get a sup of tea sure and I’ll look in on her in a bit’, but sure honest to God!” he slapped his hand down on his leg, making both Jon and Jimmy jump, “Didn’t I only go and fall asleep be the fire, must have been snoring me head off for a few hours anyway - thought to meself that the feckin cow was surely dead by now!”

Pausing for dramatic effect he lowered his voice to almost a whisper, “And do ye know what I found back out in that shed? Sure only herself, young Jennifer out there rubbing down a grand bull calf, and she only delighted with herself! The wee scallywag had snuck out of the bed and come down across the fields to me!”

He looked at Jon and Jimmy incredulously and exclaimed, “And in the middle of the night no less! Sure I had to get her back up home before Mary and Paddy - God rest them, found out - they’d have skinned her alive no doubt…..and me too I daresay!”

Jon smiled widely and laughed along with the two of them, imagining Jenn sneaking out to help a cow give birth. He had no doubt about the story at all, it sounded like her all over. He sat for a while longer with them, enjoying listening to them regale more stories of Jenn’s parents and of her growing up. Eventually his eyes grew heavy with tiredness and he thanked the two men for their company. Leaving them by the fireplace, he slipped quietly back to Jenn’s bedroom relieved to see she was still fast asleep. Peeling off his clothes in the semi-darkness, he eased himself back in beside her, grimacing as the mattress squeaked noisily. Jenn merely rolled towards him and nestled her head back against his chest, folding her body like a child around him. Sighing softly, he burrowed further down between the heavy blankets, grateful for the extra warmth of her skin. Just before he drifted off he stared up at the ceiling and offered up a quick prayer of his own. If God wasn’t with the people in this house tonight, then he sure as hell wasn’t anywhere.

Chapter Thirty Three

The view from the oval window offered no more than a black ink that stretched infinitely into the darkness. Blowing out an impatient breath Jon restlessly drummed his fingers on the smooth rim of the window as he stared out at the empty sky. He had jumped on the first flight from Newark direct to Dublin that he could get but with the time difference it would be close to 6am in Ireland before he landed. Working out that was less than an hour away, he stretched back in his seat and tried to make some sort of sense of everything he’d heard in the past few hours.

Karen had told him that Jenn’s parents had been driving home together from a day out somewhere when they’d been involved in a head on collision with an articulated freight truck. They’d both been rushed to hospital and had still been in surgery by the time Paul had managed to get Jenn on a flight home. She didn’t make it in time, her father had succumbed to his injuries first and her mother, although making it through the surgery went into cardiac arrest shortly after. The doctors had been unable to save her and Jenn had arrived at the hospital not ten minutes after. Jon bit his thumbnail hard trying to get his head around what she must be going through. Sweet Jesus! It was all like a bad movie script, surely to God this much crap couldn’t happen to one person in real life?

He’d rung Paul back while he was waiting to board the flight. Poor guy had sounded as shell shocked as he felt himself. He’d also sounded somewhat relieved when Jon had told him he was flying out there, no questions asked, no answers needed. Paul had assured him he would take over Steph and the horses until Jenn came back and not to worry about anything. When Jon had asked him did he really think she would come back, he had been silent for a time before eventually saying he honestly didn’t know but he hoped so.

Sinking his head back into the cushion, he closed his eyes and tried to focus on how he was going to help her get through this. He had no idea of the torment she must be going through. He also had no idea about how she was going to react when she saw him. He hadn’t stopped to think about that, they hadn’t exactly parted on the best terms on Friday. A tapping on his shoulder jolted him out of his musings as the air steward asked him to prepare for landing. A nervous knot lodged itself in his stomach as he buckled his seat belt and gazed out at the slowly brightening sky.

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Jenn stared at herself in the mirror as she slowly finished dressing in her childhood bedroom. Dark shadows ran under her dry eyelids in stark contrast to her pale and drawn face. The house was still mercifully quiet, Karen had gone into town to get some supplies and Mark had gone back up to Dublin for the night. Ever since the news of her parent’s accident had gotten round, people had been calling to the house in a steady trickle of condolences and sympathetic faces. Today was going to be busier still, the funeral director was bringing her parents home to the house this morning to be waked until the funeral mass tomorrow. Tradition was still strong in most rural areas of Ireland and there was an unspoken protocol when it came to funerals. The coffins would be set up side by side in their bedroom and from the moment they entered the house to the time they left for the church they would not be left unattended. Jenn had never been big into mass or praying for that matter but her parents had instilled in her a strong sense of religion and she was honouring their wishes as best she knew how.

As she looked around at her old bedroom, her eyes travelled over the photographs her mother had so proudly had framed and hung on the wall. There were many of Jenn back in her competition days, each one had a faded ribbon hanging beside it proclaiming the year and the placing she’d received. There were some really old ones of her out hunting when she’d still been at school, the grainy images standing the test of time on the wall. Her parents had always stood fast behind her, supporting her no matter what direction she had decided to go in and they had taken every opportunity to proclaim her successes to anybody who cared to listen.

The rain pounded on the window as she closed her eyes and willed the nightmare that was surrounding her to simply go away. The past few days were a blur, minutes had merged into hours, hours into days. Airports, hospitals, doctors, nurses, priests, neighbours, it was if she was watching it all from the outside, like at the movies. Only there was no popcorn here, just a mountain of homemade sandwiches, cakes and never ending pots of tea. If there was one thing the Irish were good at, it was funerals. The amount of food brought to the house so far by friends and neighbours would rival the biggest of food fairs.

A noise from the kitchen told her Karen was back, no doubt cooking yet more food to cater for the crowds that would arrive later. Jenn was blessed to have her, Karen had quite simply organised everything, she didn’t know how she would have gotten this far without her and of course Mark. That man was one in a million, the pair of them had quite literally dropped everything to be with her. On her way to the kitchen, she paused by her parent’s bedroom and took a quick glance inside. Mark had dismantled their bed yesterday to make way for the coffins and as was custom the mirror was covered with a black sheet and the curtains drawn tight. Chairs lined the walls waiting for people to come pay their respects and a picture of the Virgin Mary adorned the far wall. Jenn was pretty sure her parents would have approved and that everything was being done the proper way.

Karen was standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands on her hips gazing around her when Jenn walked in. Close to a hundred clean cups and mugs were lined up neatly on a sideboard, plates and cutlery piled on another. Heaps of sandwiches were covered in trays on the kitchen counters and a big pot of what smelled suspiciously like Irish Stew was bubbling on the stove.

“Jesus Karen - I feel awful I haven’t helped you with any of this - you must be exhausted!”

Karen spun around hearing her voice and smiled worriedly at her. “Hi sweetie, not at all!” she waved her arms dismissively, “I had lots of help from everyone.” Pulling her into a hug, she rubbed Jenn’s back soothingly, “Did you get any sleep?”

Hugging her back, Jenn smiled and lied unconvincingly, “Yeah, a few hours thanks. What do you need me to do?”

“Not a thing, here come and have something to eat,” she pulled a chair out for her, “You need to keep your strength up, it’s going to be another long day.”

Jenn shook her head, “I’m not hungry thanks, I’ll just get a coffee.”

Ignoring her friend’s look of disapproval she busied herself with the kettle. “How long till……Mum and Dad get here?” The words sounded so surreal, like she was just waiting for them to come back from shopping.

“Shortly I think…”

Karen sounded distracted and as Jenn looked up she saw her hastily check her phone and then stuff it back in her pocket. “Everything ok?”

“What? Yeah sure!” she smiled brightly, twisting her hands in knot, “Just checking I’ve everything covered, now are you sure you won’t eat something, even just a bit of toast? Please?”

The sound of the doorbell gave Jenn an excuse to avoid her latest plea, “I better get that, back in a min.”

Opening the door, she welcomed Fr. Flanagan, the parish priest. In his early seventies, he had been her parent’s priest for as long as Jenn could remember and had been invaluable in helping to organise everything. His presence today though meant the arrival of her parent’s bodies was imminent and even as she looked out at the rain beyond him, she could see between the trees the outline of the two hearses slowing on the road. Feeling herself start to shake she allowed herself to be guided by the elderly man into the living room while the funeral directors moved the coffins to the bedroom. Karen came and sat with her, quietly holding her hand until Fr. Flanagan came to let them know that everything was ready.

Thick candles on two mantles cast a soft light through the shadows as Jenn slowly entered the room. Karen followed close behind gently squeezing her hand in support as the priest stood silently at a respectful distance in the corner. As she took in the sight of the two simple wooden caskets side by side, her chest tightened and she fought to catch a breath.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this!” she gasped as she backed hastily out the door.

Leaving Karen and the priest looking worriedly at one another she flew from the room. Flinging open the back door, she ran out to the little garden her parents had so lovingly tended, her shoulders heaving in an effort to breathe. Panic raced through her body as she fought to regain control of her lungs. The wind and rain whipped mercilessly around her frail figure, instantly saturating the thin black sweater she had pulled on that morning. Black dots swirled in front of her eyes forcing her to grab a nearby fence support to stop her knees from buckling. Suddenly just as darkness threatened to engulf her, strong arms encircled her from behind and a familiar voice sounded soothingly in her ear.

“Easy baby, I got you, easy now…..”

Disbelievingly she twisted to look into those blue eyes that even now set her heart alight. Rain soaked hair flopped forward on his head dropping beads of moisture on his face as he held her close, swaying gently as the wind buffeted their bodies. Collapsing against him, she burrowed her face inside his coat, breathing in those familiar comforting spices as the tears that had refused to surface for so long finally began to fall freely.