Chapter Fourteen
“Thanks, Franco.” Rico drew a deep breath and started down the hallway as if making his way to the gallows.
Papa, we can use all the help we can get here.
Needing something to do, Franco went over to the sofa, folded the sheet and blanket, and piled them on a chair along with the pillow. Moments later, Rico carried a sleepy-eyed Gina into the living room. Her face brightened when she saw Franco.
“You came back!”
He nodded, not thinking it necessary to explain that he’d spent the night. “Good morning.”
“Do you want to play some games after breakfast, Zio Franco?”
Franco glanced at Rico but answered this question himself. “Let’s wait and see.” It occurred to him that Gina shouldn’t be here watching as her mother’s body was removed from the apartment, which gave him an idea. “I thought maybe we could take a walk later on.”
Rico sat down in the chair and situated Gina on his lap. “First, there’s something I have to tell you, Sweetie.”
His sober tone grabbed Gina’s attention. Did she know what was coming? Franco watched from the sidelines as Rico broke the news to the little girl, and his heart constricted at the pain she must feel.
“I’m sorry, Gina, but your mama passed away a few hours ago.”
“No! She’s just sleeping. I can wake her up.” She tried to scoot off his lap, but he held her tight.
“No, Sweetie. I’m so sorry. Mama fought hard, but her body just couldn’t fight anymore. She’s in Heaven now.”
Gina shook her head, her chin trembling. “I don’t want her to be in Heaven. I want her to be here with me.”
“I know. So do I, Sweetie. So do I.”
Gina glanced toward Michelle’s bedroom door. “I wanna see her.” Whether to say her final goodbye or to see if Rico had told her the truth, Franco wasn’t sure, but she scooted off his lap. Rico didn’t hold her back this time but followed her into Michelle’s room.
Franco felt like an intruder witnessing their grief, even if Rico had wanted him to stick around. He went into the kitchen, pulled out his phone, and hit Mama’s number.
“Franco, how is everything?”
“Not good. Michelle passed overnight.”
Mama gasped. “Oh no! How is Gina doing?”
“Rico just told her. She’s saying goodbye now.”
“Poor Rico. And Gina. Do you know what the funeral plans are?”
He told Mama about Rico’s plans to take her ashes to Chicago in the coming weeks.
“Can I come by later today to visit?”
“I’m not sure yet where we’ll be. Rico’s called hospice, but I have no clue what else he has to do today. Let me talk with him first.”
“You still have to eat. I’m going to make dinner for all of you.” No arguing with Mama when it came to food. “Text me the address when we get off the phone.”
Franco smiled. “Thanks, Mama. That sounds perfect.” Mama’s food had certainly eased a lot of heartaches for him over the years. She’d work her magic on Gina and Rico too.
The bedroom door opened again. “Listen, Mama, I have to go. I’ll text the address in a little while and will see you later.”
“Tell Rico and Gina I send my love.”
“You know I will. Thanks.”
“I love you too, Franco. I’m glad they have you there during this difficult time.”
He wasn’t sure how he was going to be able to help but appreciated her vote of confidence.
Franco came around the wall to the hallway just as Gina ran into her room and slammed the door. Rico stared at her door a long moment, and Franco closed the gap between them. When Rico turned toward him, he looked lost. Franco wanted to wrap his arms around him but felt unsure as to what Rico wanted him to do at this moment.
“I don’t know how to make it better, Franco.”
“Nothing anyone says or does right now will help. It’s just going to take her some time. Come have another cup of coffee. One of us can check on her in fifteen minutes or so. I don’t think we should leave her alone too long.”
“Good idea. I can’t help but think she blames me in some way.”
“If she does, it’s just her grief. Don’t take anything personally. You did all you could and more than most would.” Franco took Rico by the chin and forced him to meet his gaze. “I need you to take care of yourself, though.” Franco wrapped his arm around Rico’s shoulders and propelled him toward the kitchen table where he sat him down and refilled their mugs.
“I don’t know where to start,” Rico said.
“I’m sure the people at hospice can help walk you through everything.”
“Yeah. Up to a point.”
“By the way, Mama’s dropping by later with dinner.”
Rico’s eyes opened wider. “Really? She doesn’t have to do that.”
Franco grinned. “Do you want to be the one to tell my mama not to come over?”
Rico laughed, a sound that warmed Franco’s heart. “She’s a force to be reckoned with, that’s for sure.”
“Truth.” Suddenly, Franco had an idea. “She might be able to talk with Gina from a woman’s perspective, if you’d like her to.”
“I’m open to any help I can get, if she’s willing.”
“She offered to help any way she can. She’ll be able to relate to what Gina’s going through better than either of us will.”
After a few moments of silence, Rico sighed. “I don’t even know if I should send her to school Monday.”
“Routine helps in some ways, but play it by ear and see how Gina feels. Even if you don’t send her, be sure to contact the school counselor. She’s going to need a wide support network.”
“If I haven’t told you already,” Rico began, “I’m glad you’re here. I’m used to being in charge of things, but I’m way out of my element with this.”
Franco patted Rico’s hand then gave it a firm squeeze. “You’re going to do fine. Remember, you’re in shock and need time to grieve your loss too. You two were as close as siblings. I can’t imagine losing one of mine.”
Rico nodded and blinked rapidly as if to ward off tears. This time, he couldn’t help himself. Franco got up and came to Rico’s side of the table to wrap him in a warm hug. Rico’s body shook with sobs, and Franco let him cry.
“Just let it out. You don’t ever have to keep up a strong front for me, Rico.”
Rico reached for a paper towel from a roll in the middle of the table and blew his nose before standing to throw it away. “I appreciate that. Thanks. I feel like I’m saying that all the time lately and that the words are going to start sounding trite, but I mean every one of them.”
“I know you do.” Franco sat down again. “Have you told Michelle’s mom yet?”
Rico shook his head. “I need to call the facility and make sure they can have someone with her when I tell her. I hate doing it over the phone, but she needs to know sooner than I can get there to tell her in person.”
Sighing, Rico pulled out his phone.
Franco stood and glanced toward the hallway. “I’ll check on Gina while you do that.”
“Great. Thanks.” Then Rico spoke into the phone, “Hello, nurse’s station two, please.”
Franco walked down the hall and knocked on Gina’s door. “It’s Zio Franco. Can I come in, honey?”
No response for a long moment, then a tentative, “I guess so.”
Franco opened the door and found her on the bed curled in the fetal position clutching a yellow stuffed animal. She didn’t make eye contact with him, and he went over to sit on the edge of the bed. He stroked her hair. “I’m so sorry about your mama, Gina.”
She nodded but didn’t turn toward him or say anything.
“She loved you so much. I know her spirit is going to be with you forever.”
“I don’t want her spirit. I want her.”
“I know. I wish my papa was still here for me to talk with, but I talk to him every day as if he can still hear me.”
Gina turned over and dashed the tears from her cheeks. “Does he?”
“I think so.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s just a feeling I can’t explain, but I know it’s him.”
“How?”
He’d never put it into words before. “Sometimes my heart feels warmer, like he just gave me a hug from Heaven. Other times, I get an answer to a prayer and think maybe he helped out in some way.” Okay, this didn’t sound as concrete as it felt to him. He wasn’t explaining it well.
“If I talk to Mama, will she hear me?” Maybe that was all Gina needed to hear.
“I know she will. Try it, but you have to believe she can hear you first. Over time, you’ll become familiar with the signs she sends to let you know she heard you.”
Gina closed her eyes. Her lips moved as she spoke to Michelle.
Franco decided a little insurance would be good.
Papa, please help Michelle communicate with Gina. She’s new over there, but you know the ropes by now. Show her how this works.
Gina opened her eyes again. “How long does it take?”
Franco shrugged. “She might need time to get adjusted to things in Heaven first. And you’ll have to get used to what to look and listen for.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sometimes our loved ones send us signs to make us think of them. A hummingbird or a cardinal or something that was special to the two of you. Or a song one or both of you loved will play on the radio out of the blue. She might even give you answers to your questions and concerns while visiting you in your dreams.”
Tears welled in Gina’s eyes. “I still wish she was here. Then she’d answer me right away.”
“I know. That’s the hardest part.”
He assumed Rico was still talking with his aunt, so he’d give him a few more minutes before venturing out there again with Gina. “Let’s try and figure out the ways your mama will send messages. What was her favorite color?”
“Purple.”
“Favorite song?”
“You Gotta Be.”
“I don’t think I know that one. What are the words?”
“All I remember is, ‘You gotta be bad. You gotta be bold. You gotta be wiser.’”
“Oh, the Des’ree song?” Wow, he hadn’t heard that one in decades. Which means it might be too obscure for it to randomly play on the radio.
“Mama used to sing it when she was cleaning the house. She would dance around and play the CD over and over. She told me the singer knew a lot about life and that I should listen to the words in the song and take them to heart in how I lived my life.”
Franco grinned. “Your mama told you to be bad, huh?”
Gina nodded, still way too serious. “She said sometimes you have to be bad to make good things happen. I think she mostly meant breaking little rules, nothing big.”
“Sounds like a very smart woman.”
“She is.”
“We’ll find the CD so you can play it whenever you want to remember that about her. It’ll be like she’s singing to you again.”
Her chin trembled and tears trickled down her cheeks. “Thank you, Zio Franco.”
He stroked her arm wishing he could soothe away the hurt. “Anytime. What about animals? Rico tells me you like penguins and horses. Does your mama have any favorites?”
She glanced at the stuffed animal tucked between her arm and her body, which he could now identify. “She liked giraffes. She gave me this one when we went to the zoo last year. She told me never to be afraid to stick my neck out every chance I get.”
“Your mama sounds wonderful.” But the things she had for signs and symbols weren’t going to be things Gina might see or hear often. Why couldn’t there be any simple signs for these two?
“She also knows you love horses, so she might even send you images of things you love too.” That might be a little more common than a giraffe. “Be watching for those signs, and whenever you see or hear them, it means she’s with you and reaching out as if she’s giving you a hug or a kiss.”
She nodded and held her giraffe a little tighter.
Franco heard Rico’s phone ringing, so he must have finished that call. Was hospice calling to say they were on their way? “Why don’t you get dressed, and we can take a walk?”
Gina rolled off the bed, landing on her feet and quickly opening her dresser. “I can show you my school.”
“I’d love to see it. But do you need to see your mama again first? She’ll probably be taken away before we come back.” Had Rico or Michelle explained to Gina what it meant to be cremated? He didn’t want to be the one to do that.
She thought a moment then shook her head. “Mama isn’t in her body anymore.”
“That’s right, honey, she isn’t. Her spirit is with God, and God is with you. So that means that your mama will always be with you too.” He’d heard his own mama explain it that way to Angelina, who had been a teenager when Papa died. It had a comforting ring at least.
“Mama wanted to be cremated so I can keep some of her ashes with me always.” He hated that Gina understood what all that meant, but it helped that Rico didn’t have to explain.
“I’ll meet you in the living room when you’re ready. Wear good walking shoes.” He wasn’t sure how long they’d need to wander around waiting for them to finish here.
Rico set the phone on the table as Franco came in. “Hospice will be here in the next fifteen or twenty minutes.”
“Gina and I are going for a long walk. How soon will the crematorium pick up her body?”
“Sounded like they’ve notified them to be standing by, so probably not too long after.”
“Text me when it’s okay for us to come back.”
“Will do.” Rico gave him a half smile. “I won’t say thanks again, but you know how I feel.”
“No need to say anything. I understand.”
Gina came bounding into the kitchen. “I’m going to show Zio Franco my school.” She suddenly looked stricken. “I mean, my school for now.”
“Come here, Sweetie.” Rico sat down and pulled her onto his lap. “I promised your mama that I’d keep you in this school at least until the end of the year.”
“I get to stay!?”
“Sure thing.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you, Zio Rico!”
“And I think we’ll stay here in this apartment for now, but if we have to move for any reason, I’ll be sure you get to school from wherever we live.”
She twisted her fingers together, making him think she might be worried, but she didn’t express it. Instead, she asked, “Want to come with us?” Gina asked Rico.
“Why don’t you two go without me this time? And when you come back, we’ll have breakfast.”
“Good! I’m starving,” Gina said.
Franco marveled at how quickly she could shift from one emotion to another but was happy that she wanted to eat. That was a good sign.
“What would you like for breakfast?”
“Pancakes!”
“Good,” Franco said. “Assuming you have a mix here.” He glanced toward Rico who went to the cupboard and pulled out a box. “Just add water.”
“That’ll do.” He turned back to Gina. “I’ve flipped a lot of pancakes back in the day at firehouse breakfasts.”
Franco grinned as he glanced at Rico, and they exchanged a poignant look. Rico mouthed thanks and indicated with his phone that he would text him when they could return.
On his way out the door, he grabbed two bananas to tide them over until they could make breakfast.