282(A/N: This is it: the final chapter. I started this story in 2010 and now it's 2020. I think I waited so long to update with this chapter because I didn't want the story to be over. I've loved writing it. I'll wait until the ending of the chapter to say my final thank you and goodbye, but for now, please enjoy this epilogue. For the last time, happy reading!)
TWO YEARS LATER – 1972
JULI'S POV
"Bryce, are you sure we have everything?" I ask as I walk around the empty apartment, carrying a notepad in my hand with my specialized "to-do" list. I check each closet and cabinet door.
"You would know better than me!" he calls from the apartment door.
Smiling, I shake my head. Thanks for the help. When it seems like I've checked every possible room, I walk to the entryway. Bryce stands, waiting with a few stuffed boxes in his arms.
"Are we ready?" he asks.
I nod my head and he walks out of the apartment. I quickly grab his shoulder. "Wait!"
He turns back to me, raising his eyebrow. "What?"
"Look at this place. This was our first home. The first place we lived together. For the past two years, we lived here and studied together. We made so many memories here. It's a little sad to leave," I say, wiping away a tear.
Bryce sets the boxes down and wraps me in his arms. He gazes into the empty apartment and nods his head. "I know what you mean. This little apartment will always be special to us."
He tips my head upward to look into his eyes. "But, we're going to an even better place."
I smile and allow him to pick up the moving boxes. I gaze at the apartment one last time before closing the door.
He's right. We're moving to Rochester, Minnesota. I was accepted to medical school at the Mayo Clinic School of Medicine and Bryce is pursuing a Doctorate degree in Counseling Psychology at the University of St. Thomas in Minneapolis. At first, I questioned the hour-long drive he'll have to make every day, but he said I shouldn't worry about it. The Mayo Clinic was my first choice for med school and when I was accepted, Bryce said that's all that matters.
I'm the luckiest wife in the world.
We pack our bags into the backseat of our little Pontiac. Once seated in the front seat, I turn and place my hand on his leg. "I want to thank you."
He raises his eyebrows. "What for?"
"For always supporting me, no matter what," I tell him.
He smiles and leans over to kiss me. The kiss deepens with passion, but I pull back. We have a five-hour drive in front of us. We need to get to Rochester because nighttime.
"Let's go to our new home," I say.
Bryce leans back in his seat and grins. "Yeah, let's go home."
FIVE YEARS LATER – 1977
BRYCE'S POV
"Come on, baby, you can do it," I coax my wife. She groans through a contraction. "Push!"
"Come on, Mrs. Loski," Dr. Martin says.
"I'm trying!" Juli cries. She groans and follows the doctor's instructions.
"One final push, Mrs. Loski," Dr. Martin tells us. Juli groans as she pushes, gripping my hand. She finally sighs and a moment later, a loud shriek fills the hospital room.
"Congratulations, it's a boy!" Dr. Martin announces.
I look down at the bundle in the doctor's arms. He's here. He's perfect. Juli sighs with happiness while she gazes down at the beautiful baby boy below her. Dr. Martin glances up at me.
"Would you like to do the honor, Dad?" he asks me.
Grinning, I nod my head. Following the nurse's instruction, I cut the umbilical cord. The nurse takes our son and leads him away from us to clean him up. I gaze down at Juli, who looks tired but elated at the miracle that happened before our very eyes. Our son is here and he's healthy. What more could you want?
"Alright, Mom and Dad, here's your beautiful baby boy," the nurse says, placing him in Juli's arms. "Born July 27, 1977 at 9:21 p.m."
I stare down at our little boy with light brown hair and blue eyes. I gaze at him—our son. This little boy is my responsibility. I have to raise him to be a good person with strong morals. It's a little daunting, considering my own father wasn't really a "father." But all I can do is hope and pray I'll do a good job.
"Bryce, he's perfect," Juli whispers, interrupting my thoughts.
"He is," I whisper, kissing her forehead. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For making me a dad," I answer, gazing down at our son, who is now asleep.
"You didn't mind waiting?" she asks.
"Waiting?"
"Yeah, for me to finish med school and start my residency. And for you to have your doctorate."
I lean my head against hers as I stare at our sleeping son. To some people, waiting seven years to have a child is a long time, but it's what worked for us. We enjoyed the first seven years of our marriage just us two. We have the rest of our lives to be parents.
"Trust me, he was well worth the wait," I say. But now, here's the important question. "What should we name him?"
Juli stares at him in deep thought. I watch her, knowing that whatever she comes up with will be the perfect name for him.
"What about Gabriel Chet?" she asks.
Gabriel Chet Loski...Perfect.
"I love it. Grandpa would love him so much."
She looks up at me, grinning. "I love you."
"I love you, too," I say before I kiss her. And just like that, we became a family of three.
FIVE YEARS LATER – 1982
JULI'S POV
"Gabriel Chet, you get back here right now!" I call to my son as he runs from the living room, giggling in that perfect five-year-old way that makes it hard to stay frustrated.
I rush to the spilled glass of milk and begin to wipe up the mess. In the next room, our one-year-old son, Benjamin Michael, begins to cry from being woken up from his nap. Sighing, I run my tired hands through my tangled hair.
"I'll be right there, sweetie!"
I finish cleaning up the mess and run to the next room, picking up Ben from his crib. He cries against my chest and I rock him back and forth.
"Mommy, are you mad at me?" Gabriel asks behind me.
I turn to him and observe his blue puppy-dog blue eyes. "No, I'm not mad at you. But you need to be more careful when you're drinking your milk, okay?"
He nods his head. "I will. I'm sorry, Mommy."
I walk past him and brush my hands through his hair. Just like that, everything is forgiven. All is well in the Loski household.
I walk into the kitchen, still holding Ben against my hip.
"Is Benny done crying?" Gabriel asks, using his special nickname for his baby brother.
"I don't know. Why don't you ask him?" I respond, continuing to rock the crying baby in my arms.
"Honey, I'm home!" Bryce calls from the front door.
"Daddy!"
Gabriel runs into the entryway of our two-story brick home and I hear them wrestle together. They giggle and the sound is comforting. The sound is my "home."
"Hey, honey," Bryce says as he walks into the room, crossing over to kiss me on the cheek. He leans down and kisses Ben's forehead. "Is he okay?"
"Yeah, he just woke up and was a little cranky," I say. When Ben is finally asleep, I walk him back into his nursery and place him in his crib. I turn back to Bryce. "You're home early."
"We have that dinner tonight with my coworkers, remember?" he reminds me.
I turn to him and shake my head. "You never told me about a dinner."
"I'm sure I did. It's with everyone at the office."
Sighing, I glance down at my wristwatch. "But I'm working tonight at the hospital."
"But I told you about this dinner," he argues.
"No, you didn't. I would've remembered," I say, walking out of Ben's nursery and into the kitchen.
"You forget a lot of things," Bryce mumbles under his breath.
I turn back to him and raise an eyebrow. "What'd you say?"
He rolls his eyes. "Nothing, I said nothing."
"No, Bryce, go ahead and say it. I forget things! You'd forget things, too, if you were a working mom with two boys. Gabriel starts school next month and I'm trying to keep this house from falling apart. So, I'm sorry if I forgot about your dinner tonight that I'm pretty sure you never even told me about."
I turn and walk across the hall to our bedroom. I begin to close the door when Bryce pushes it open.
"Don't start with me tonight," he says.
"I have to get ready for work."
"But what about the dinner? I'm just supposed to show up without my wife?" he asks.
"Yeah, I guess you are. It's not like I'll be missed much. Whenever we go to these dinners, I'm usually left sitting with a bunch of stuck-up women and you're off having a cocktail with your buddies. It's not how I want to spend my time."
Bryce sighs as he walks toward me. "But this is an important dinner. They're announcing who will be taking over as the chief clinical therapist and I think I have a pretty good chance of getting the job. I really need you to come with me tonight."
"And what about my patients?! I'm just supposed to not show up and perform surgeries and save lives?" I shout. I know I'm raising my voice, but he has to listen to me. My job is important, too.
"But you said you would go with me!" he fires back at me.
"You never even asked me!"
"Yes, I did! I told you about it last week, but I guess you don't care enough about it to remember!"
I raise my hands into the air and brush past him. "Oh, yes! I'm such an awful wife and don't care about my husband's job. Yes, yes, that's me! You got me, Bryce!"
I start to open the bedroom door when Bryce presses his hand against it. "Stop it!"
"No, you stop!"
"STOP!"
"Mommy? Daddy? Is everything okay?" Gabriel's voice interrupts our shouting. We turn to the closed door and in the silence, we hear Benjamin crying from his nursery. "Benny's sad again, Mommy."
Bryce steps away from the door and turns to me. Taking a deep breath, I open the door to find Gabriel standing in the hallway, biting his nails. He looks at me with his baby blue eyes. I walk to him and gently remove his hand from his mouth.
"Everything's okay, sweetie. Mommy and Daddy were just having a discussion about something, but we're okay," I tell him, hoping he can believe me and go back to playing. He looks at us and then points down the hall to Benjamin's nursery. "Benny needs you."
He turns and skips away to his bedroom. Sighing, I lean against the wall and look back at Bryce. He sits down on our bed and runs his hands through his hair.
"That…I'm sorry for that," he whispers.
"I'm going to take care of Ben and then we can talk," I tell him.
When I return to the bedroom, Bryce is still sitting on the bed. He glances up at me and shakes his head.
"We have to make this work," he says.
"I'm going to the hospital tonight. I already cut back enough hours," I say.
"I'm not talking about work anymore! We have to make this work," he says, pointing to us. I stand before him, waiting for him to continue. "We used to be able to handle busy schedules. What happened?"
"We had another kid," I joke.
Bryce chuckles and nods his head. "I can go to the dinner by myself, but I'd really want you to be there."
"I know, I know," I say. I walk towards him and run my fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry. But I have a surgery tonight that I just can't miss."
He nods his head. "I know. I understand," he whispers. He gazes at me and shakes his head. "I hate fighting with you. I hate it more than anything in the world."
"I know. It's not good for us."
"I love you too much to ever lose you," he whispers.
I run my hands through his hair and then rest my fingers on his chin. "You won't ever lose me. We will never get that bad."
"We won't be like my parents?" he asks. He gazes into my eyes and I see the fear in them. I see his guilt and I recognize the tears. I lean down and kiss his trembling lips.
"We won't ever be like them. I promise. It was just a fight. I'm sorry," I tell him.
He grins and stands up from the bed. He closes the bedroom door and turns back to me. "Luckily, though, we're always really good at making up."
He runs his hands down my arms and grasps my waist. Smiling, I lean up and kiss him on the lips. He sits on the bed and pulls me down to his lap, my legs straddling his waist. He groans and smiles as he kisses me again.
"What about your fancy work party?" I whisper.
"So I'm a little late," he jokes. He leans us down on the bed and he slips off my shorts and underwear. He unzips his pants. "After all, all we ever do is just drink cocktails and the stuck-up women talk. I think I can miss the first round of cocktails."
He leans over me and I wrap my legs around his body, bringing us closer together. "Let's never, ever fight again."
He grins down at me. "Oh, we'll fight again and you know it."
I bring our bodies closer together and he groans, closing his eyes at the sensation. "Okay, so we'll fight, but let's never forget how much we love each other."
He opens his eyes and gazes at me with passion. He laces our fingers together. "I could never forget how much I love you. You are my whole world. I'm nothing without you."
And that's all we have to say. The rest was said with, well, action and love. Plenty of love.
TEN YEARS LATER – 1992
BRYCE'S POV
"Dad, can I ask you something?" Gabriel asks me.
I glance up from my newspaper. My 15-year-old son stands before me, obviously hiding something behind his back. I place the newspaper on the side table and cross my legs.
"Anything, Gabriel."
He removes a small bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolate from behind his back. He clears his throat. "Do you think, uh, do you think this is a nice gift?"
"For me? Of course. You know I love chocolate and roses," I joke with him.
He rolls his eyes and sits down in the chair across from me. "No, Dad, it's not for you."
I raise my hand in understanding. "I know, I know. I'm kidding. Is this for a girl?"
Gabriel blushes and nods his head. Smiling, I lean up to get a better look at the roses and chocolate. "What's her name?"
"Allie."
"Does she go to school with you?"
He shakes his head and looks down at his feet. "No, she's homeschooled. She's in the Christian Kids Theater program with me."
"Oh, yeah. Allie Wade? Did she play in Tom Sawyer with you?"
He nods his head. "Yeah, she was Becky Thatcher."
"Wow, she's very talented," I tell him. He blushes again. "And you have a crush on her."
When Gabriel blushes again, I lean forward and wrap my arm around his shoulder. "Okay, so, what's your master plan?"
"Well, we're in rehearsals for Annie. I thought I could give these to her after our rehearsal tonight. Maybe I could ask her if she wants to go see a movie with me this weekend?"
"Do you talk to her?" I ask.
"Yeah, I guess you could say we're friends. She's really nice," he says. He blushes again while thinking about her.
"Then, give her the presents and ask. You never know what will happen. You have to try," I tell him.
"What did you do with Mom?"
I chuckle and my mind goes back to those days in junior high when I tried everything to make things "right" with Juli. It eventually took that sycamore tree—that simple little tree—to convince her that I was serious with her. I've been serious with her ever since.
"As we've told you, your mom loved me first and I didn't. I couldn't stand her. I wanted nothing to do with her. She was not my friend. She was a pest, as some would say," I tell him.
"Kind of like how Ben and Eliza are?" he asks.
"Hey, your younger siblings aren't pests."
"They are to me," he mumbles under his breath.
I laugh, choosing to ignore that comment. I sit up in my seat to continue the story.
"Anyway, I hated your mom, but I was still...intrigued. I was still fascinated with her. She was perfect. She was a geek, but she was still perfect at everything she did. I wanted to know how she did that."
"Is Mom still perfect today?" he asks me.
"She's the chief of surgery at the Mayo Clinic. What do you think?" I ask with a grin.
He grins and nods his head. "Yeah, she's pretty perfect."
"But eventually, she grew tired of me. She got fed up with me ignoring her. She realized I didn't like her, so she stopped trying. She flipped her feelings, as some have said."
"She didn't like you anymore?" he asks.
"I wouldn't say that exactly. You'd have to ask her, but I think she gave up on the idea of us ever being a couple. I think she still had a crush on me, but she realized I wasn't the one for her. I was a jerk sometimes," I explain.
"You were a jerk? To Mom?" he asks in disbelief.
"I know, right? How could I be a jerk?" I joke with him. "But I wasn't trying to be a jerk. It just happened. I had a friend who didn't want me to be associated with her. I was a fool and listened to him for a while."
"What happened after that?"
"Well, when your mom couldn't stand me anymore, I realized that I had a crush on her. I, Bryce Loski, had a crush on Juli Baker. I spent my whole life avoiding her and suddenly, all I wanted to do was kiss her."
"And you eventually did at a picnic..."
I smile, glad to know that my son knows this story. "Yeah, it was a class picnic. Girls bid on boys and got to have lunch with them. It's a pretty insane idea now and I'm glad they got rid of that tradition."
"Me, too," Gabriel jokes.
"But during that picnic, I was jealous of the boy your mom was having lunch with. I couldn't take it anymore. She was laughing at his jokes. She seemed to be having a great time. She used to look at me that way. She used to smile at me that way."
"You were afraid you were going to lose her," he says.
"Exactly. I was afraid I screwed up and lost all of my chances," I say. I glance down at my hands. "So, I stood up from my seat, walked over to her and I started to kiss her. Right there in front of everyone else."
"But what happened?"
"She hated it. She ran away from me. She wouldn't talk to me for days. She ignored me. I tried everything to make it better. I eventually had to plant a sycamore tree in her front yard to demonstrate how I felt for her."
"That's what it took? A sycamore tree?" Gabriel asks.
"Yeah, she loved sycamore trees. It was symbolic, Gabe."
"So, you made a big gesture," he says.
"Yeah, and it must have worked because here we are, so many years later...still happy as ever," I tell him.
Gabriel stands up from his chair and walks to the front door. "I'm going to give the present to her."
"Right now?"
"Yeah, she hangs out at the park before rehearsal. I'm not going to give it to her in front of everyone else. I'm not going to be like you," he says with a grin.
Laughing, I watch my oldest son walk out of the house. To be young and in love...
EIGHT YEARS LATER – 2000
JULI'S POV
The familiar orchestral music begins, and I stand next to Bryce, who clutches my hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her walking down the aisle. Miss Allie Haynes. She's a vision in white with a wide grin stretched across her face. She's beaming at someone standing at the end of the aisle. When I turn to look at him, I no longer see my firstborn son, but a grown man.
He was once my little boy. My Gabriel Chet. The little boy who spilled milk and ran away giggling. He would call me "Mommy" and ask me in his sweet, innocent voice if I was okay or if he was in trouble.
Now he's 23 years old and he's marrying his high school sweetheart, Allie. Together, they starred in the same musicals. They played opposite each other both in school productions and the Christian Kids Theater productions in town. I watched them grow up together, fall in love, test their relationship, and come back together stronger than ever.
Just like it was with Bryce.
As I watch Gabriel and Allie exchange wedding rings and declare their love and devotion to each other, a knot forms in the base of my throat. I swallow and try to force the knot away, but it just bubbles up and I realize that I'm holding in my tears.
My tears for the little boy I used to have, and for the young man I now have to give away to his beautiful bride.
Bryce pats my hand. He knows I'm hurting. He knows I'm emotional and that I'm not ready to watch my son become devoted to another woman—for him to listen to her and follow her wherever she goes. Just like he used to act with me.
Bryce nudges my elbow and I turn to him. He smiles and winks. Just wait, Bryce. Your turn is coming when our daughter eventually gets married. It won't be anytime soon, but your turn is coming to be emotional when you have to give her away, Pops.
"You may now kiss your bride," the preacher declares.
I turn my attention back to the wedding. Gabriel leans down, rests his hands against Allie's cheeks and grins at her like she is his entire world. He presses a gentle kiss against her lips and the guests begin to applaud for the happy couple. I have to join in—because even though I'm emotional, I'm far more happy and thrilled.
I'm thrilled my son found his life partner. I'm proud he has found someone who makes him happy, who is devoted to him, and who truly loves him—for better or for worse. He found his soulmate, and I hope they will always be as happy as they are today.
I stand for my son and for my new daughter-in-law. I applaud for them and weep tears of joy. I'm happy for him. I truly am.
When Gabriel and Allie walk past us down the wedding aisle, Gabriel turns to look at me. He's beaming with excitement and he winks at me. He smiles just like he did when he was five years old. He looks at me just like he did after he performed his first solo singing recital.
And I know in that moment that I still have my son. I still have my little boy. That will never change—never.
I will remember this day for as long as I live.
ONE YEAR LATER – 2001
JULI'S POV
My pager beeps inside the pocket of my lab coat as I walk the halls of the Mayo Clinic. I step outside a patient's room and write down their information, beginning with the date: September 11, 2001.
I reach inside my pocket and look at the message on my pager. It's from Bryce: "Turn on TV. Call me. Call Gabriel."
What? What's going on?
Down the hall, I hear a commotion of noise and sobbing. Fearing a patient has collapsed or an emergency is happening, I race down the hall. I only stop when I see the medical staff crowded around the television set. On the screen, there's a video of the World Trade Center. A plane flew into the North Tower a little while ago and now, a second plane hit the South Tower.
Clutching the collar of my whitecoat, I frantically turn to the direction of my office. I rush into the room and reach for the telephone. I dial Bryce's office phone number. He answers on the first ring.
"Juli," he shouts.
"Bryce! What's going on?!"
"They're saying it's a terrorist attack," he tells me.
"Have you…What about Gabriel and Allie? Are they…Are they okay?!"
Shortly after they got married last year, Gabriel and Allie moved to New York City to begin their first jobs. Gabriel was working on his law degree in entertainment law and he had an internship—and the office was located inside the World Trade Center. Allie worked part-time as a receptionist for the office and also as a music instructor.
"I haven't been able to reach either of them," Bryce whispers.
"Is he working today? Is he there?!"
"I don't know, honey. I don't know," he says. He's trying to remain calm. "Maybe we should get off the phone in case he's trying to call us."
"I wish you were with me," I whisper.
I hear him choke back a sob. "Me too."
"I'll talk to you later."
"Yeah, I'll see you later."
We hang up the phone and I wait for it to ring again—this time from my oldest son, who I'm pretty sure he's at work. He always works on Tuesdays. It was his favorite day at the office. Why? Because it was the same day Allie worked in the office.
"Please, God, please. Please."
Across the hall, I hear more shouting. I step outside my office and stare at the television screen. The North Tower has just collapsed.
And a part of me knows. A part of me feels it.
Gabriel and Allie were at work today.
FIVE YEARS LATER – 2006
BRYCE'S POV
"Pass the orange juice, please," I tell Juli, who sits across from me at the kitchen table. She sighs and passes the carton towards me. I try to ignore that the sigh could mean something more. I've been ignoring what her sighs mean for the past five years.
"Everything okay?" I ask, pouring the juice into my glass. She shakes her head and rubs her eyes.
"I'm fine. I'm just tired."
"You sure that's all that's troubling you?" I ask again, raising an eyebrow. I try not to notice when she rolls her eyes. "Juli."
"I said I'm fine, Bryce," she says as she stands up to place the plates in the kitchen sink. She leans against the counter, resting her hands on the edge while staring out the window.
"Juli, I've been married to you long enough to know that when you say, 'I'm fine,' it usually means you aren't fine," I tell her. When she doesn't say anything, I stand up and walk towards her. I wrap my arms around her shoulders and gently squeeze them. I'm thankful she doesn't move away.
"Talk to me," I whisper into her ear.
"There's nothing I can say," she whispers, her voice shaking, and I notice her chin trembles as she tries to fight back the tears.
"You can talk to me."
She lowers her head and softly releases a sob. "I miss him so much."
"I know, I know," I say, running my hands up and down her arms. I kiss her hair. "Me too."
"It's been five years, but it feels like it was just yesterday," she cries.
"I know."
"How can we ever move on from this?" she moans. She turns around and buries her face against my chest. "I need my baby back."
As a therapist, I'm trained to guide my patients. I have all the training in the world to treat patients of all kinds. I know the human conscious and psyche better than most, but I don't have any answers for my wife. When it applies to our lives, I don't know what to do.
"I think it's time for you to consider my suggestion about attending therapy," I tell her.
"But I'm married to you."
"I can't help you. You—We need an outsider's perspective. And maybe we can join a grief group with families who also lost someone on 9/11," I suggest. When she nods her head, I tug her towards our bedroom. "Come on, let's get ready for work."
We take the first few steps together, and then she stops. "Bryce, I'm sorry. I don't want anything to happen to us."
I turn to her and lift her chin. Staring into her eyes, I shake my head. "Nothing could ever happen to us. We've been through everything—everything—together. You've loved me since we were in grade school. I love you. I love you, Juli Baker Loski. I mean it when I said we're going to spend the rest of our lives together, no matter how messy or heartbreaking it is. We are in this together."
She nods her head and blushes. "Yes."
"I love you so much," I whisper, leaning down to softly kiss her lips. When we break apart, she grins.
"I love you, too. Always and forever."
TWENTY YEARS LATER – 2026
BRYCE'S POV
It's a beautiful spring day. I rock back and forth on the front porch swing while gazing at the sycamore tree I planted for Juli years ago. She would have loved a day like this—clear skies, gentle wind, and sitting next to me on our favorite spot.
But that was back then.
"Dad?"
I turn my head to see Benjamin walk up the porch steps, holding onto his four-year-old son's hand. I grin and pat the spot next to me for Ethan to climb up and join me. Once he does, I give him a good pat on the knee.
"There's Grandpa's little boy," I say. I glance up at Ben, who does his best to seem happy and cheerful. He runs his hands through his curly brown hair while sighing. He turns and gazes at the front lawn.
"It's a pretty day," he tells me.
"It sure is," I answer.
A car door slams shut and Ben's wife, Megan, joins him on the front porch. Their eight-year-old daughter, Annette, stands awkwardly behind them. When I smile at her, she looks away, like she doesn't want to be here.
"What's going on?" I ask, turning my attention to Ben.
He shakes his head and glances over at Megan. "What makes you think something's wrong?"
"Because Annette always greets her grandpa," I say, looking back at Annette. She shifts her legs and glances at the front door. I turn back to Ben. "So, how's the writing coming?"
"The writing is slow and tedious, Dad, but that's life as a writer," he jokes.
A car horn honks and I, once again, turn to see our daughter, Eliza, pull into the driveway. She opens her door and helps her three children—Crystal, Albert, and Suzanne—climb out of the minivan. Her husband, Gilbert, opens the passenger door and waves to us. I raise my hand to wave back and turn to Ben.
"What's going on? Is this an intervention or something?" I ask.
Ben shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Hi, Dad," Eliza says as she walks toward us. She leans down and kisses my cheek.
"Hey, can someone please tell me what's going on? I'm happy to see all of you here and together, but it's a bit of a surprise and it's not our birthdays," I tell them.
Eliza and Ben share a look and silent conversation. She finally sighs and looks at the front door.
"We're here about Mom," she says.
Sighing, I stand up from the porch swing. "Kids, we've been over this."
"We just think if she sees all of us together that it'll maybe help," Eliza argues.
"Yeah, and maybe she—"
"Maybe, maybe, maybe. That's all we can say. Maybe. Maybe she'll see all of us together and maybe she'll remember who we are. I get it, kids," I say.
"We're just trying to help. We hate what's happening to Mom," Ben says.
"Me, too," I whisper.
I started noticing the change in Juli about six months ago. She celebrated her 75th birthday, but a few weeks later, she couldn't remember her age. Then, she couldn't remember where she left things in the house. Then, she couldn't remember when she was supposed to go to social events.
At first, we decided it was simply "old age" that was causing this. We're not young anymore, so it makes sense that her memory wouldn't be as good as it used to be. As much as we hate to admit it, we're in our 70s and old age is catching up to us.
Then, when she was at the store, she couldn't remember what she went there to pick up. She couldn't remember how to get home. Then, she would get a phone call from Eliza and she stared at the name on the iPhone screen, wondering who it could be. She didn't recognize her daughter's name anymore.
At Christmas, she looked at Eliza and Ben and it was like she was meeting them for the first time. She didn't recognize her grandchildren anymore. She grew quieter—more reserved. She stared off in the distance, lost in her own world.
All of this was upsetting enough as it was, but it didn't truly hit me that my wife has Alzheimer's disease until the morning when I greeted her in our kitchen and she looked at me—stared at me long and deep—and she asked, "Have we met?"
My own wife—the woman who has loved me since we were in elementary school—no longer knows who I am. She no longer knows I'm her husband. She no longer knows I'm her soulmate, her best friend, her…everything.
And every day since, it's like she has already died.
"Dad?" Ben interrupts my thoughts. He places a hand on my trembling shoulder. "We're sorry. We just thought it would help if she saw us together and we talked to her about things in the past."
I shake my head and try my best to grin. "You can try, kids, but her memory is gone. She doesn't even know me anymore."
Eliza rushes towards me and wraps me into a hug. "Oh, Daddy! I'm so sorry."
I run my hands through her blond hair, smiling at the familiarity of it—just like when she was a little girl and she needed her father's comfort. "It's okay. I've…accepted it, but it doesn't really make it any easier. Alzheimer's is a cruel disease. I've studied it in psychology, and it will only be worse if we keep trying to push her."
Eliza nods her head and turns to Ben. They share a silent conversation only siblings can have. Ben turns back to me, "Does she still…Does she…"
"Yes," I whisper, know what he's trying to ask. I stare past them to the front lawn. "She mumbles about Gabriel."
"How come she remembers him but not us?" Eliza asks.
I shrug my shoulders. "There's a lot we know about Alzheimer's, and then there are still so many questions about the human mind and memory. My only explanation is that she stored away so many years of memories with him and now…that's all she has left."
I turn back to them and shake my head. "She remembers her little boy. I think if we brought in Albert or Ethan, she'll think they're Gabriel and it'll make things worse."
"Or it could make things better," Gilbert adds.
I slowly shake my head. "I'm afraid not. When they would leave, she won't understand, and it might be hard for her. I don't want to risk it."
"We understand, Dad," Eliza says, placing her hand on my shoulder. "We just hate that this is happening."
"That makes two of us."
From behind me, I hear the front door open. I turn to see Juli stepping out onto the porch, holding a glass of iced tea in one hand. Her eyes gaze at us—wide and afraid.
"I-I must be…Must be mistaken. I'll find somewhere else to sit," she says, turning back to the house. Knowing this behavior, she must think she's at a hotel or a café.
I reach out to her and place my hand on her trembling shoulder. "Honey, it's okay. It's okay. You can sit out here, if that's what you wanted to do."
She glances up at me and then down at her peach sandals. "Who are you, again?"
"I'm Bryce. I'm your husband."
She nods her head and sits down on the porch swing, our favorite spot together. She kicks her feet and the swing slowly sways back and forth. Her beautiful light brown hair, with touches of grey at the roots, flutters in the breeze. Gosh, she's so beautiful. I can spend my whole life (and I have) staring at her.
"It's nice to meet you," she whispers. She doesn't know that her words punch me in my gut. She turns to our children and grandchildren. "You brought some new friends."
Eliza smiles and look at me out of the corner of her eye. We didn't want to do this, but I guess we're doing it. She walks up to Juli and extends her hand.
"I'm Eliza," she greets. Juli takes her hand and smiles.
"Has anyone ever told you that you have the most beautiful hair I've ever seen? It's blond and shiny," Juli says, beaming at her daughter.
Eliza blushes and nods her head. "Yes, someone has told me that before." Juli says this to her every time Eliza visits.
Juli turns to Ben, but her eyes catch Ethan. Her mouth falls open and she looks as though she has seen a ghost.
"Gabriel? Gabriel?!"
She stands up and tries to rush to him, but her feet stumble along the way. I reach out to her and cling to her shoulders.
"Juli, calm down!"
"It's my boy! My baby! Gabriel!"
Ben turns to his son, who is now crying in fear from the frantic look in his grandmother's eyes. "This was a bad idea. I'm sorry, Dad. I'm so sorry."
He quickly ushers his family away from the porch and towards their car. Juli tries to run out from my arms, but I tighten my grip on her.
"No! Gabriel! Come to Mommy, baby! Come here!"
Eliza quickly gathers her children and hurries them to the minivan. She rushes back to the porch and kisses my cheek.
"We're so sorry, Dad."
As our family drives away from us, Juli manages to force herself out of my grip. "Let me go!" She rushes down the porch steps and approaches the street.
"Gabriel!"
"Juli!" I shout, rushing down the porch steps as fast as my aching legs can go. Juli stands in the middle of the road and it seems like my feet can't get there fast enough.
No. Come back to me, baby. Come back to me, Juli. Get out of the road.
"Juli!" I walk out into the street and grasp her hand. I turn her to our house. "Please, our house is this way!"
She pushes my arms away from her and starts to take a few steps when her right leg bends unexpectedly. She loses her balance and falls to the pavement, right on her hip.
CRACK
"JULI!"
She moans and gazes up at me, but her eyes don't see a husband, but a stranger. She looks at me with fear.
"Help…Help. It hurts," she moans.
I lean down to wrap her in my arms. "Don't worry, baby. I'm not going anywhere, just like I promise. You'll be okay. You'll be okay."
But as I hold in my arms, I have a feeling, just like I had a feeling on September 11, 2001, that something was wrong. Something bad was going to happen, and nothing—nothing—could change this.
EIGHT YEARS LATER – 2034
BEN'S POV
"Hey, you have a phone call," Megan, my wife, tells me. She hands me the phone and I take it from her, turning away from my laptop.
"Hi, this is Ben Loski."
"Hi, Ben. This is Doctor Jacob Keller, your father's physician. I'm very sorry to tell you this, but…he has passed away."
My heart sinks into the pit of my stomach. I stand up from the writing desk and run my hands through my hair.
"Mr. Loski?" the physician asks.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm here. I'm…Are…I thought he was doing better," I tell him.
"He was, but he took a turn for the worse this morning. It seemed he wanted to go someplace."
Of course, he did. He's been ready to be with Mom since she passed away four years ago.
"I…Thank you for letting me know," I tell Dr. Keller.
"Again, I'm very sorry for your loss. We'll be in touch with you soon about arrangements."
"Thank you."
I hang up and sink back into the chair. I don't say anything. I don't do anything. What could I do?
"Honey?"
I turn to Megan, who has a knowing expression on her face. She walks up to me and runs her hands down my arms.
"Dad's gone," I whisper.
"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry," she whispers, wrapping me in her embrace. I cling to her and wait for the tears to come. But surprisingly, they don't. I have no tears.
I sit up in my chair and stare at my computer. I. Have. No. Tears. What the heck is wrong with me? My father just died and I'm not crying? I must be the worst person on the face of the planet.
"Ben, what is it?" Megan asks, her voice edged with concern.
"I'm not crying. Why aren't I crying? Shouldn't I be crying?" I ask. I stand up from the chair and pace around the room. "I was close with my dad. He was great! He was loving, strong, kind, and really fun. Sure, he worked a lot, but what dad doesn't? Whenever he wasn't working, he was always here for us."
I turn to Megan and practically shout in her face. "Why aren't I crying!?"
She blinks and gently steps away from me. "Honey, I think it's obvious. You've already mourned him. You knew this was going to happen. He missed your mom so much. He was ready to be with her since the day she died. Maybe you're not crying because you've already cried for him. You've cried for your mom. You've cried for Gabe. Maybe you're all out of tears. You've already let your dad go. You know he's happy. He's with your mom and Gabe again."
I absorb her words and nod my head. It makes sense. My mom was terribly ill the last few years of her life. She lived in a nursing home and she was noncommunicative. We mourned her before she died. Afterwards, my dad was a wreck. He missed her and he slightly removed himself from reality. We still visited him, but it was like a spark had been let out of him. He was there, but he wasn't really there. I said goodbye to my father a long time ago.
"You're right. You're totally right," I tell her. I sit back in my chair and turn to the laptop.
"Maybe you'll cry later, who knows?" she offers. I nod my head and stare at the Word document in front of me. She leans down and kisses my hair. "You know what you have to do now, don't you?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know," I mutter. She rises and kisses my cheek. "Thank you."
She leaves me to be by myself, which I need. I stare at the novel in front of me—all 358 pages. It's something I've been working on for the past five years, and it might just be ready to send out to publishers. My first full-length novel.
It's a tale about two childhood sweethearts. The girl fell in love with the boy first, but he resented her. Then, when they were in junior high, he started to realize he was an idiot for not seeing the girl for the beautiful woman she was. He falls in love with her, but because he made poor decisions, she realizes he isn't as great as she thought he was. They go back and forth during the entire story, until they eventually realize they're perfect for each other.
It might be a sappy story, but it's true. It's a true story, and that's all you need to know.
I scroll up to the first page of the document and smile to myself. Now that my father's gone, I have to finish this. I have to get this story published—because it will inspire others to believe in true love and second chances.
"This one's for you, Mom and Dad," I mutter to myself as I title the manuscript. Once finished, I stare at it long and hard. Yes, that's it. That's perfect. That's the perfect title for this story—for this so-called life we lead. It's simple, but there was nothing simple about the story that inspired these words.
FLIPPED
A/N: Wow. This took a long time to write. I held off on writing the ending of this story because I didn't want to finish my time focusing on Juli and Bryce. I loved their characters, and I loved writing about them. I hope you enjoyed this story. I spent 10 years (not always consistent though) on the story. As you read this story, you'll notice the progression of my writing. You'll notice an improvement (hopefully). But that's the beauty of it. Just like Juli and Bryce, I grew up while writing this FanFiction story.
Thank you to everyone who has read this story. Thank you for the reviews and for the encouragement. Thank you for inspiring me to keep writing this story. I know I wasn't always consistent with writing it due to my personal life, but it was always fun to return to the story. Now, I don't know what I'll do. I hope to write other stories on FanFiction. We'll see what happens. Until then, thank you for spending time with me.
Finally, thank you to Wendelin Van Draanen for writing "Flipped" and for creating Juli and Bryce. Without you, I wouldn't have written this story and fallen in love with the idea of true love and second chances.
This story is dedicated to anyone who has ever felt like Juli and Bryce—who are confused, conflicted, and feeling hopeless in love.
Once again, thank you for reading. Feel free to give me a "favorite" so you'll be notified whenever I start a new story in the future. I appreciate all of you so much!
As always,
Fiddlegirl