I'll See You Again Part 25

Is there a heaven? I wondered.

Who really knows? Maybe the girls were just in the cemetery, in the dirt.

Regardless, my hope that I would-and could-see the girls again persisted.

My childhood friend Cortney was the only one who was completely understanding. We'd known each other since we were four years old, and she loved me so much that she couldn't bear the thought of my suffering.

"Okay, I get it," she said. "If that's what you need to do, you should."

"You don't think I'm crazy?" I asked.

"No. You can't live in this pain. I know that."

Her affirmation had an oddly calming effect on me. I could be with the girls whenever I wanted-the timing just wasn't right yet. I always had something to get to first. I had to make it through Alyson's Communion. I could never let people's kindness go unnoticed, so I had to write thank-you notes to everyone who had given gifts and donations. And it wouldn't be fair to leave before I had celebrated Katie's birthday. I had to be here for Family Fun Day, of course. And then write more thank-you notes to all the volunteers. I might be suicidal, but I wasn't rude.

"I can't kill myself until after May," I told Dr. O'Brien during couples therapy one day.

"Why is that?" he asked calmly.

"I have to be here for Family Fun Day. It wouldn't be right for everyone who's working so hard if I weren't here."

"I think that's a good decision," he said.

"But after that ... I don't know."

"Then just focus on May," he said. "After that, we can make another plan."

"I can't listen to her talk this way anymore!" Warren shouted, exploding in anger. "Every time I go out, I wonder if she'll still be here when I get home."

"She's here," Dr. O'Brien said, trying to provide some perspective.

"But she talks about killing herself all the time. You have to make her stop."

"Jackie needs that coin in her pocket, Warren. Don't take it away from her."

"I can't stand it," Warren persisted.

"You have to understand that it's helpful to Jackie to know she has a way out," Dr. O'Brien said reasonably. "But she hasn't taken it yet. And Jackie's a planner. If she has a date set in her mind that she has to get to, she'll get there."

But we all knew that May and Family Fun Day were still far away.

"Plan a trip together," Dr. O'Brien advised. "You both need something closer to look forward to."

This time, Warren jumped in to help. He talked to Brad and Mark about where we could all go for a grown-up vacation. The guys settled on a long weekend in Key West-figuring there wouldn't be many children there. A nonfamily location was important. This would be a getaway for all of us.

"We have the tickets," I told Dr. O'Brien at the next therapy session. "We're going to Key West."

"That's great!" Dr. O'Brien said with huge enthusiasm.

"Why are you so happy?" I asked grumpily.

"The trip is another stepping-stone for you. You need those. We'll just keep jumping from one to the next."

"And when we get to the end I can kill myself," I said.

"But not until after Key West, right?" he asked. He knew how to make a deal.

"Well, we have the tickets. You know I can't kill myself now," I said.

The trip turned out to be ridiculously fun. With beautiful weather and delicious food to keep us going, we laughed for four days and left reality behind. At one point, the six of us walked into a shop in town filled with typical tourist paraphernalia. I started exclaiming over a little ceramic rooster that said "Key West" on it.

"I love this," I said. "I want it for my kitchen."

"Buy it," said Melissa.

I picked it up just as Brad spotted a huge light in the awkward (and ugly) shape of an octopus.

"Look at this!" he exclaimed, flicking it on and off. "An octopus light! Isn't it great? We've got to get it."

"Ugh," said Melissa. "Where would you possibly put it?"

"My man cave," he said with a wink. Given Melissa's household perfectionism, Brad's "man cave" was the one room in the house that he was allowed to decorate as he liked. Melissa didn't get any say over it. But she tried a practical argument.

"We'd never be able to get that, uh, thing home on the plane," she pointed out.

"We ship anywhere," the shopkeeper chimed in helpfully.

"You do? That's great. We'll take it," said Brad. Then, turning to the rest of us, he said, "While we're shipping, we might as well get a lot of other stuff, too!"

"Oooh, good!" Melissa and I said.

On a vacation-induced high, we strolled around the store, picking out all the Key West crafts that we absolutely had to have-from wooden signs with silly sayings to a Santa on a surfboard.

"I'll get these," said Melissa, picking up salt and pepper shakers in the shape of Key West's most dreaded tourists-a heavyset man and woman in bathing suits.

We giggled and kept adding more items to our shipment. It reminded me of the shopping trips with Karen-just getting out of the house and indulging myself a little turned off the serious part of my brain.

Later, we wandered back into the sunshine, ate wonderful food, and sat by the ocean. Sitting in a lounge chair the next day with the sun beating on my face, I closed my eyes and thought about how sad I was. But as I tried to concentrate on my misery, I heard the gentle sounds of the waves on the sh.o.r.e and felt the warm breeze against my skin; bright sunshine hit my eyelids, making my interior life lighter.

I sighed and opened my eyes again.

"Here's a lesson," I said to whoever wanted to listen. "You can't be depressed on a beach. It just doesn't work."

Melissa laughed. "Well, then, maybe we should all move permanently to the beach."

If only. When the glorious getaway ended, my sun-induced high spirits fell.