Jaime was quiet and sullen for the next couple of days. He wasn't snarky or mean to anyone, but he was quieter than previously. He often stayed in his room, and I didn't like that. I didn't want him to be isolating himself when he was coming to terms with so much with regard to the fragility of life
Friday morning, I got up and checked in with Jaime. He was lying in bed, hands behind his head, earbuds in, staring at the ceiling.
"Hey," I said, sitting beside him on his bed. He took out his earbud.
"Hey," he said.
"What time should we leave? Quarter to eleven?"
"Never," he said. "I'm not going."
"Wait, why?" I asked. Jaime said he'd go to Emmanuel's funeral. For Mrs. Lopez. I couldn't fathom why he'd changed his mind.
"Frank and Justin will be there and I can't trust myself not to beat the shit out of Frank."
Ah. There was a reason.
"Jaime, I understand your sentiment and frustration, but don't you want the chance to say goodbye to your friend? To offer your condolences to Mrs. Lopez? She's been good to you, and I know this is going to sound like I'm trying to guilt you, but don't you think you owe her?"
Jaime sighed.
"Yeah. I guess,"
"So let's get up, get some breakfast, take your meds and we'll leave around ten forty-five."
He sighed again but didn't say anything. He sat up, put his earbuds away and got out of bed.
"Dad?" He said from his bathroom.
"Yeah?"
"Can you, I dunno, I guess, can you make sure I don't lose my cool on Frank? You know what I mean?"
"I think so. Yeah. I've got you."
Jaime wouldn't want to fight at Emmanuel's funeral, but I couldn't be so sure this Frank character could be trusted to leave Jaime alone.
"I'm going to go downstairs and get something for breakfast. Do you want anything specific?"
"Is Marvel awake?" He asked. I heard her giggling in her room as Meagan helped her get dressed.
"I would say that yes, she is," I smiled.
"Can we have pancakes?" He asked.
"With chocolate chips?"
"Obviously," he smiled a little as he poked his head out of his bathroom, a toothbrush in his mouth.
"Alright. See you in a few," I said. He nodded and went downstairs to start pancakes. I was just going to use a mix. It was faster.
"Daddy!" Marvel said as she bounced into the kitchen. "You makin' pamcakes?"
"Yes, yes I am," I grinned at her.
"Wif choko chips?"
"Of course. Your brother requested them special for you, I think."
"Why? Jaime has a sad?"
"He is sad, yes. He lost a friend."
"Why he no find his friend?"
"Because his friend got very hurt and isn't with us anymore."
"Oh," Marvel said. I wasn't sure she understood entirely, but I didn't want to explain it to her now.
She climbed onto a kitchen stool and watched me mix the pancake batter. I let her put some chocolate chips in.
"Jaime sad. We put extra in for him, okay, Daddy?" She asked. I smiled at my little daughter. The amount of love my baby has for my oldest child is genuinely heartwarming. And Jaime is just so good to her. They were so close. Jaime wouldn't do a thing to hurt Marvel, no matter how upset he was or how much he was hurting.
He was also getting along well with his brothers. I was proud to see my family was truly a family.
Jaime came downstairs in sweatpants and a T-shirt.
"You're changing before we go, right?" I asked him. He rolled his eyes at me.
"Obviously."
Marvel hopped off the kitchen stool and ran over to Jaime, taking his hand.
"Daddy's makin' pamcakes!" She said to her big brother. "Wif choko chips! He telled me you asked for 'em for me!"
"He's right. I did," Jaime said. He smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. He just didn't want to upset Marvel.
I cooked the pancakes and put them on a plate. I watched as Jaime, in a rotten mood, understandably, put a pancake on Marvel's plate and cut it up for her. He helped her pour syrup on them so she didn't overflow the plate. Despite how he was feeling right now, I was impressed that he was being so attentive to Marvel. I suspected though I knew how much he loved his little sister, that he was trying to distract himself from the rest of the day.
Jaime carried Marvel the rest of the way into the kitchen and placed her on a breakfast bar stool. He took out three plates, forks and knives and placed them in front of Marvel, his seat and the end, where, presumably, I'd sit. The island was big enough for the three of us to sit comfortably. We didn't use it when all of us were together - that's what a table is for - but mornings often found the younger boys eating their breakfast before school, a quick snack or when Jamie and Marvel got up.
With Jaime still having the school semester off, he tended to sleep in some, then get up and hang out with Marvel while he did some schoolwork. He'd even gone to Mommy and Me with Meagan and Marvel a couple of times, and Marvel absolutely loved showing off her big brother to her friends there.
Jaime sat and ate his pancakes mostly silently. Marvel kept up her adorable chatter and ate her pancakes with glee. Jaime would smile if she said something to him, but otherwise, he was mostly quiet.
When we were all done eating, Jaime stayed downstairs and helped me clean up, wiping Marvel's face and hands from the syrup toddlers seem to find ways of getting all over themselves.
Once Marvel was all cleaned up, Jaime helped her off the stool, and she ran off to look for Meagan.
"Dad?" Jaime said as soon as Marvel was out of earshot.
"Yeah, son?" I said.
"What do I say to Mrs. Lopez? I mean, 'sorry' doesn't seem to cut it."
I looked at my son. In my wildest dreams, I had never imagined that I would have to advise my fifteen-year-old son how to express his condolences to his friend's mother. I never imagined any of my kids would deal with the things we were all dealing with now. I realized how sheltered my kids really were from some of the things that happen in our city. I don't think it's all entirely bad that there are things Bronx, Saint and Marvel may never experience first-hand, but they were getting a second-hand experience through Jaime, and that was more than enough for me.
I sighed.
"Honestly, Jaime, I don't know. Nothing seems appropriate and everything feels trite. I think you might know what to say when you see her. You know what not to say, I'm sure. I'm confident you'll figure out the right thing to say. And sometimes, nothing is the right thing. Give her a hug. That might be all she needs or wants."
Jaime nodded to what I'd said.
"Yeah. I guess that makes sense," he said, sighing. "I'm gonna go take a shower and change."
"Okay, son. I'm here if you need anything. Be ready for ten forty-five?"
"Okay," he said. I watched as he walked towards the stairs, looking like the world's weight was on his shoulders.
Meagan came down a few minutes later with a slightly troubled look.
"Everything okay?" I asked her.
"Jaime's crying in his room, and I don't know what to say to him to make him feel even slightly better."
"Well, neither do I. How does one help their fifteen-year-old through not only the death of his mother, which I know he's still dealing with, but also the death - and a violent one at that - of his childhood friend?"
"I feel so badly for him," Meagan said. "Between him losing his mom, getting and beating cancer, and now this? No kid should have to deal with all this at one time. In just the short time since we got to know him, he's dealt with so much more than is fair for anyone."
I nodded.
"There are a few pancakes left on the plate by the stove if you want. I'm going to go change and get ready to take Jaime to Emmanuel's funeral," I said.
"Do you want me to take him? Keep the focus on Jaime and Emmanuel, in case anyone gets word you're there?"
"No, thank you, honey. I'll take him. It'll be okay."
Meagan nodded and pulled a plate out for herself.
"Where's Marvel?"
"Playing in her room. She said she needs to have a meeting with her dolls so they can make Jaime 'have a happy' when he gets home," Meagan smiled. "The way those two have bonded."
Meagan stopped and, smiling, shook her head.
"To think we were worried about how he was going to be with the kids, and he's blended into this family so seamlessly," she finished.
"I can't lie, I was worried the day I picked him up, but I'm really proud of who he's become and how much he's allowed us into his life and us into his. It may have been a rocky start, but dammit, I love that kid," I said. Meagan gave me a kiss - it tasted like chocolate chips and syrup - and implored me to go get ready and not push Jaime too hard today.
I went upstairs, got into an appropriate outfit for a stranger's funeral, and went to check in on Jaime. I knocked on his door and opened it. He was just getting out of the shower and came out of his bathroom with a towel around his waist. I hadn't noticed how much weight he'd lost throughout his battle with cancer. I could see his ribs still, but I could also see he was starting to gain weight back, now that he could eat properly again.
"Yeah?" Jaime said as I stared at him. I watched as he crossed his arms across his chest. "Take a picture, it'll last longer."
"Sorry. I just wanted to see how you were doing. Meagan said she heard you were crying."
Jaime rolled his eyes and looked away.
"Is that a problem?" he challenged.
"No. Of course not. But if you need to, or want to talk. I'm here."
"I'm fine. Can I borrow your suit again?" he asked.
"Isn't it still in your closet?" I asked, smirking.
"Oh. Yeah. I kind of forgot after Mom - Tanya's funeral."
"No worries. Take your time. We still have some time before we have to go. I'm going to check in on your sister, and I'll be back in a few, okay?"
Jaime nodded as he turned away from me. The ridges of his spine sent shivers down mine and reminded me how close I'd come to losing my own son from a spectre even more evil than gun violence.