Chapter 13
Adam showed up at Josie’s doorstep first thing the next morning. He’d texted, but a part of her was still surprised when he actually arrived. Someone from the Navy needed to speak with her, and Adam didn’t want her to face that particular conversation alone.
The moment she’d opened her eyes, grief had plowed into her like a tidal wave, so heavy and so all-consuming, it had paralyzed her. She’d eventually managed to stumble into the bathroom and take a shower, but she couldn’t remember if she’d shampooed her hair.
With red, swollen eyes and wet, matted hair, Josie knew she looked a wreck when she opened the door. Adam wordlessly pulled her into his arms.
“I’ve got you, honey,” he said.
The Naval officers who arrived an hour later wore dress uniforms and somber expressions.
Although she’d received the news through Adam the day before because of his connection to Charlie’s team and TSI’s intimate involvement with the case, this was the military’s official family death notification visit, and it was no easier to hear the words from the officer now than it had been to hear them from Adam the day before.
“We regret to inform you…” the officer began, but Josie stared straight ahead, tuning out his words.
Instead, she imagined Charlie as she’d last seen him, home on leave, lounging on her sofa with a beer in his hand and watching his beloved Red Sox on television.
Charlie, the brother who’d protected her when they were children, who’d literally saved her life.
The brother who’d encouraged her as a young adult and never made her feel awkward or different, even though she was both those things.
The brother she adored with her whole heart.
When the officer finished speaking, a heavy silence fell over the room. Josie blinked herself back to the present, but she couldn’t speak. The words simply wouldn’t form. Adam placed a comforting arm around her shoulder and communicated with the officers on her behalf.
Then they were gone.
Adam filled her kettle with water, rummaged through her cupboards, and found the tea bags and mugs.
“We’ll need to meet with the casualty assistance officer to help plan the memorial service,” he said.
Josie clasped her arms around herself and attempted to rub away the chill that had settled in her bones.
“I know it’s a lot,” Adam said gently.
“Will you come with me?” she asked, her voice raspy and small.
“Of course I will,” Adam said while handing her a steaming mug. “Sit, please.”
She sat, curled her hands around the cup, and stared at the contents.
“I miss him so much already,” she said.
Adam sat back in his chair, eyes on Josie, and gave her his full attention.
“I can’t believe he’s really gone. I know I’m in shock.
I know how grief works, from a clinical perspective anyway.
” She paused and looked up at Adam. Tears, from a seemingly endless supply, filled her eyes.
“We lost our parents when we were kids. You know that already. In some ways, we lost them long before that day, but Charlie was always there for me. He was the only person I could count on. He was the only person who understood, who shared the same experiences, and now he’s gone. ”
Adam reached out and placed his hands atop hers. “You are not alone, Josie. No one will ever replace Charlie, just like no one will ever replace Allie, but you don’t have to carry anything alone, not your childhood trauma and not this.”
Despite what she’d endured as a child, despite always feeling different from her peers, despite the emotionally taxing career she’d chosen, Josie prided herself on her independence, on her strength, but right now, she could barely put one foot in front of the other.
Despite all the tools she’d amassed to deal with her past trauma and loss, she didn’t know how to navigate this raw, overwhelming grief.
She hung her head as a sob escaped. Adam circled the table and pulled her into his arms, where once again, she soaked his shirt with her tears.
For the rest of the day, as promised, he didn’t leave her side. He drove her to meet with the funeral director and sat beside her while she planned Charlie’s memorial service. He bought her soup for lunch when she forgot to eat, and he accompanied her to Jake and Fiona’s house later that day.
One look at Jake’s distraught expression, and Josie burst into tears all over again.
Jake didn’t bother to hide his tears either as the two of them clung together.
When Josie finally stepped back, Fiona stood waiting with tissues in hand.
Then, although it was only four in the afternoon, Jake headed for the bar area to retrieve a bottle of wine and a bottle of whiskey. Glasses filled, they toasted Charlie.
“Jake, would you speak at the memorial service?” Josie asked.
“Charlie was a brother to me in every way that mattered. I’d be honored,” Jake answered, his voice breaking.
“He loved you like a brother,” Josie said, and it was true. Her quiet, stoic older brother had broken down when Jake had nearly been killed overseas.
“When I first came to Boston, I was still in a pretty dark place, but Charlie was there waiting for me at the airport. He didn’t say much, you know Charlie, but he was there,” Jake said.
“Do you remember when we went on our first date to see the Red Sox, and you were like ‘what’s the big deal about the Red Sox?’ and Charlie was horrified?” Fiona asked, laughing even as tears streaked down her face.
“That’s right. Charlie and Joey were both there. We were all on leave for your wedding, A.J.,” Jake said.
“I remember,” Adam said, smiling.
They spent the next hour telling stories about Charlie, until Teagan Tate, Fiona’s drummer, and Teagan’s wife, Maria, one of Adam’s TSI employees, came through the door. Three children tumbled into the kitchen on Teagan and Maria’s heels, all whirlwinds of energy.
The two girls ran straight to Jake, climbed into his lap, and wrapped themselves around him like spider monkeys.
The boy, who looked to be about two years old, followed on sturdy legs.
Teagan scooped the squirming toddler into his ink-decorated arms, while Maria dropped an armload of cookies, bread, wine, and cheese onto the kitchen table.
“Slow your role, ankle biter,” Teagan said, tossing the child into the air and handily catching him again.
Josie couldn’t help but smile at the little boy’s belly laugh.
Teagan handed his son off to Maria and walked straight to Josie. He knelt by the side of her chair and held her gaze. His intense blue eyes held a world of emotion. Beneath the swagger and fame, the real Teagan Tate wore his heart on his sleeve, if you knew what you were looking for.
“I’m terribly sorry for your loss. Charlie was a good man, and this is bloody awful,” he said.
“It really is,” Josie agreed.
“Josie, some of these supplies are for you,” Maria said, gesturing toward the pile of food on the table.
“Oh,” Josie said, blinking with surprise. “Thank you.”
Teagan stood and gripped Jake’s shoulder. “How are you holding up, mate?”
Jake blew out a breath and shook his head. “Thanks for taking the kids for the day,” he said.
“Anytime,” Teagan answered.
Next, Teagan crushed Fiona in a hug and whispered something in her ear. Fiona glanced at Jake and nodded.
“I’ve got him,” Josie heard her whisper back.
Maria bustled around Fiona’s kitchen with comfortable familiarity, while Teagan corralled the kids into the family room.
“They’re knackered after our riveting day at the zoo. I’m gonna set them up with a movie,” Teag said.
Josie stared at the faces around her. Friends, but so much more.
For the first time in her life, she longed to be part of a group like this, to have a circle of people who loved her the way these people all loved each other.
For so long, it had been Josie and Charlie against the world, and now Charlie was gone.
As if reading her mind, Adam placed his hand over hers and squeezed. “We’re all here,” he said, so softly only she could hear.
Fiona refilled Josie’s wine glass and took a seat on her other side.
“Josie, we’d like to host a reception here after the memorial service. Is that all right with you?” she asked gently, searching Josie’s face for a reaction.
Josie nodded and gave a sigh of relief. Her brownstone wasn’t really conducive to a big crowd, and she wasn’t exactly the life of any party, not that Charlie’s memorial would be a party, but the thought of handling an event of that size in her current state was simply more than she could bear.
“I would appreciate that so much,” she said.
“We’re on it,” Fiona said.
After another half-hour, Josie began to wilt. As usual, Adam didn’t miss a thing.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
“I’m suddenly so tired,” she admitted.
“Give me just a second to gather up all the goods,” he said, making his way into the kitchen area.
Adam packed up the food Maria had made for Josie, and then, after wrapping Josie’s coat around her shoulders, he held her face in his hands and gently kissed her forehead. The gesture felt so natural and so wonderful that despite her utter exhaustion, Josie smiled.
Four sets of adult eyes zeroed in on them, and Josie’s cheeks blushed crimson. Adam, for his part, acted nonplussed, thanked everyone, and ushered Josie out the door.
Flustered, Josie didn’t speak until Adam glanced her way. “I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I?”
“No. No, not at all. I guess I’m just a little surprised.”
“I have some big feelings for you already, Josie, but I am sorry. I should have made sure it was okay with you before I outed us.”
A warm, tingly feeling spread in Josie’s belly. “I don’t mind,” she said, and she didn’t.
Knowing Adam wanted his friends to know about her, about his feelings for her, made Josie feel special. His open affection, and the seemingly natural way he took care of her, made her feel special, and no man had ever made her feel special. Uncomfortable, yes. Awkward, yes. But special, never.
“Would you like to join us for dinner tonight?” he asked.
As much as Adam’s family had comforted her the day before, Josie was so exhausted that she didn’t think she could string a coherent sentence together, never mind participate in their lively dinnertime conversation.
“I think I need to go home tonight, Adam,” she said, hoping her decision wouldn’t upset him.
“No problem, honey, but I am going to stop and pick you up something to eat.”
Not only did Adam pick her up a delicious bowl of tomato and vegetable soup, her favorite, along with a loaf of crusty bread and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Karamel Sutra, also her favorite, he unloaded everything, including the items Maria had given her, and had her dinner ready and waiting at the breakfast bar when she returned from changing into her yoga pants and sleep shirt.
While she stood speechless in her kitchen, Adam shrugged on his jacket and planted a soft kiss on her lips.
“Get some rest, Josie.”
She nodded.
“I’m just a phone call away, okay?” he said.
“Why are you doing all this?” she asked, choking out the words.
“I like taking care of you,” he said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“But why?” she insisted.
Being cared for like this felt foreign, and in a small, dark place deep inside, Josie didn’t feel worthy of it.
“Because I want to,” Adam said, trailing his thumb over her bottom lip.
Josie swallowed hard, unable to articulate her discomfort. She realized that her feelings likely stemmed from her traumatic childhood, and from her less than satisfying adult romantic relationships, but realizing the “why” of things didn’t change her involuntary response.
“It’s okay, Josie. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay.”
When his lips brushed against hers, the tension drained out of her body. Taking the cue, Adam cupped the back of her head with his warm hand and deepened the kiss. Josie lost herself in the sensations.
Adam’s masculine scent overwhelmed her. His confidence and control thrilled her. His touch sent a rush of heat through her whole body. The pain of loss still hovered in the periphery of her mind, but this kiss, this sensual, demanding kiss, momentarily held it at bay.
When Adam broke away, he touched his forehead to hers. Josie’s pulse raced and her skin tingled.
“I don’t want you to stop,” she said, the words out before she had time to think about them.
“I don’t want to stop either,” Adam said, pulling her into a tight embrace. “But you need to eat and then sleep. You’re in a fragile place, Josie.”
Josie gave a reluctant nod. She wanted Adam, but she also wanted to be fully present for him, and despite her body’s enthusiastic response, she knew she wasn’t.
“I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” he said, holding her gaze.
“I believe you,” she whispered.
When Adam left, Josie quietly ate her meal. When she finished, she pulled a box from underneath her bed, sat on the floor, and reverently removed each item. She didn’t have many photos from her childhood, but the few she had, she kept safely tucked in this small wooden chest.
Hands shaking, she touched the glossy paper, tracing Charlie’s six-year-old face with her finger.
Her brother rarely smiled, but in this picture, he wore a gap-toothed grin.
His dark hair was tousled, and his blue eyes sparkled.
He had his arm around four-year-old Josie, who also smiled brightly at the camera.
Josie remembered the day. The whole family had gone to the beach.
It was one of the few happy memories that included both her parents.
Each photo held a piece of her childhood, and almost all of them included her brother. She’d make an album or maybe use an online photo editing program and create a collage for her wall. Anything to keep Charlie close.