As a kid, I always thought that everything was going to always be perfect and that nothing could ever happen to my family because we were nice, happy people who never did anything wrong to anybody.
I had thought that God didn't punish good people, despite all of the suffering he had caused poor Job in the Bible. I remember always feeling sad about all of the tragedy that had fallen upon Job, but then again, just about every normal person would have also been pretty sad if they were in Job's shoes.
But at the end of the lesson with Sister Bernadette, I just tucked my Bible into my backpack and hurried on to the next lesson with my classmates. (It wasn't my fault that at a Catholic school run mostly by nuns, that Sister Bernadette just so happened to be the oldest and scariest teacher) I never thought to apply any of that to my own life because I saw it as ancient history and I lived in the here and now.
As far as I had been concerned, life was a fairytale.
I was healthy.
I was very happy.
I was doing very well in school.
I had lots of friends.
My parents never fought.
My parents were healthy.
My parents were very happy and they adored each other.
Life was a fairy tale.
But then came Easter Sunday when I was eight.
We were driving home from Sunday Mass and were waiting at a stoplight… and another car came barreling through, plowing into our car. The driver didn't even stop. They just kept going.
I survived (obviously), but I was badly injured.
My mother, Quin, also survived the crash, but she was injured worse than me.
(And I didn't find out until years later that she had been pregnant at that time and lost the baby in the aftermath of the crash because her body wasn't strong enough to keep the baby inside anymore)
It was my dad, Kenneth, who didn't make it.
(He was ejected through the front window shield and he died immediately)
My world fell apart that day and I grew up a bitter person.
But then, when I was twenty-one and had been in New York City for all of a day, I was in Times Square where I met and befriended Kevin Ryan.
Little did I know at the time that he was going to be my future husband.
Little did I know that he was going to be the first person to melt my heart of stone.
Little did I know that he was going to be the first person to restore my faith in fairy tales.
DING-DONG!
I groaned as I hear the doorbell ring in the front room and turned to my mom, who was perched on the couch cushion opposite mine. We were folding the clean laundry.
(She was visiting from her house in Flushing where she lives with my stepdad, Fitzgerald, and my half-brother, Nelson. Up until mom was pregnant with Nelson, she and Fitzgerald still lived in my childhood home in Tampa Bay, Florida. They moved up here right before Nelson was born almost nineteen years ago)
"Could you get that for me, please? Elizabeth is asleep upstairs, and I don't want her to wake up yet, and given my present condition, it would take me ages to get to the door in a fashionable manner."
I looked down at my midsection, which was pretty huge, seeing as I'm almost nine months pregnant, and gave it a rub as the baby moved around. We're having a boy, and Kevin and I plan on calling him Kenneth, after my dad.
"Of course, Jenny." mom smiled as she got to her feet. "You just keep folding, and I'll be right back."
She left the family room and was gone for a minute or so. I could hear her open the front door and talk to whomever it was that had come to call, but I didn't think too much of it and carried on with my task at hand.
(It was probably just a solicitor, anyway)
Imagine my surprise when I saw mom come back with a blank look on her face, along with Kate and Rick in tow. My friends both had unreadable expressions on their faces, and that caused an undesirable sinking feeling in my gut right away.
Please, God…
Please, no…
"Kate, Rick, what's going on?" I asked as mom made herself busy with moving all the laundry to the side so she could sit closer to me. "Why are you here? It isn't even noon yet! Did something happen to Kevin? Shouldn't Javier be the one to give me some kind of message? Where is he? Did he get hurt?"
Kate moved closer, and it was her grim expression that cued me into the fact that she was in full-on cop mode, especially when Rick hung back respectfully.
"Jenny, I'm so sorry to have to be the one to have to tell you this," (At her tone, I grabbed mom's hand for comfort because it was clear that Kate was trying her hardest to keep calm) "But there was a shooting during a suspect chase about an hour ago. Kevin was hit and he didn't make it."
All sorts of emotions coursed through my system upon hearing her words, but the ones that stuck with me were horror and shock.
Mostly shock.
"What?" I got to my feet with surprising speed, the massive size of my belly notwithstanding. "Kate, please tell me that you didn't just say what I think you said."
"Jen, I'm so sorry. We did everything we c—"
"How did it happen?" I demanded as anger started taking over. "How?"
"Jenny," Castle approached me, speaking for the first time since entering my house. "I don't think that that's too good of a question to ask right now, especially given your condition."
"Don't you dare sugarcoat anything for me! I saw my father die in front of me when I was barely even eight years old!" I yelled, not caring that my sleeping child upstairs was probably wide awake by now. "TELL ME THE TRUTH!"
Castle looked as grim as his partner. "A bullet went through his vest."
All my breath caught in my throat as I processed the new information and I could finally feel the tears forming in my eyes.
"The bullet was a cop killer?"
Kate and Rick nodded sadly.
"No!" I now felt sick to my stomach. "No, no, no! Kevin and I just had our three year wedding anniversary yesterday, and Elizabeth turns two next week!"
My unborn child kicked me hard, reminding me that he was there, so in response I massaged my belly as my tears fell down my face.
"And our boy is due next month, on my birthday! Kevin can't be dead! He just can't be!"
Kate and Rick both approached me this time, wanting to comfort me. I shrank back.
"DON'T TOUCH ME! GET OUT!"
The next thing I was aware of was my legs giving out underneath me, causing me to collapse.
Mom caught me and let be sob into her shoulder.
Why, God?
Why did you make me a widow?
Am I a bad person?
Do you hate me?
What did I do wrong?
I'm so sorry…
The funeral was yesterday.
I have no idea how I did it, but after Kate and Rick left, I managed to call Kevin's parents in Westchester County to tell them what had happened. I felt horrible for telling Levi and Miriam over the phone that their only son had been killed in the line of duty, but they promised to tell the news to Kevin's three sisters—Ellen, Gretchen and Jillian.
(I later found out from Lanie and Javier, who had both been near Kevin when it happened and stayed with him, that it all happened very quickly and that it wasn't prolonged at all. That means that Kevin didn't die alone and he didn't suffer for too long)
Mom took care of calling Fitzgerald and Nelson, and both of them dropped everything they were doing and came over straight away.
My parents took care of Elizabeth for me without me even asking to, and they even sat her down and told her when she asked about where her daddy was that he had gone to be with God. Elizabeth couldn't understand why her precious mama was curled up in a ball on the couch, not wanting to speak or do anything, so my parents played with her, fed her, bathed her and put her to bed. (Nelson took charge of looking after me until I fell asleep) I'm not sure how much my daughter understood about what was going on, but she could still sense that I was extra sad and stuck to me like glue.
Since there was no room for Elizabeth on my lap because of how big my belly is, my sweet little girl was very flexible and settled for letting her Auntie Gretchen hold her and take care of her during the funeral, but the moment she realized it was over, she wouldn't let me out of her sight.
…I can't believe that Kevin is gone…
…I just can't…
…God is cruel sometimes, and I don't understand why…
…Right before the funeral started, Javier found me and told me that he didn't come to the house to tell me the news himself because he had fallen during the firefight and sprained his ankle pretty badly, whereupon he was immediately ordered onto bed rest…
…I don't have the faintest clue about how I'm ever going to function by myself now…
…As any cop wife knows (especially in New York City), losing your husband is a real possibility, every single day, and as time comes to pass, you start to think that you'll never have to experience that grief…
…But then it does and you realize how naïve you were to think that your husband was untouchable…
...Everybody is vulnerable because we're only human…
…But there is one thing, one fact that stands higher than the rest: fairy tales aren't ever going to be real because life always gets in the way by the end, and then it just slaps you hard in the face when you're least expecting it, and it tells you to get a grip on yourself…
Elizabeth suddenly turned over in the bed, so she was facing me as she began stirring and it meant that she was in the process of waking up from her slumber. (Because she knows that I'm sad, she's taken to sleeping next to me in the bed, something that I don't mind a single nit because it's a tiny bit of comfort) The baby also chose that moment to begin stirring inside me, so I caressed the mound that was housing him. It was my way of reassuring my son that I wasn't as freaked out as I had been for the past few days.
I'm a widow now, but how am I going to be a single mother to two small children, one who won't remember her daddy at all, and the other who will never know his daddy?
...I wish I had the answer...
"Mama!"
Elizabeth was awake and watching me now.
"Hi, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?"
She nodded. "Love you!"
I leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "I love you, too."
She just grinned at me (and my heart skipped a beat when I realized that she had Kevin's smile), and then crawled over to me and patted my belly, giving me an expectant look. I knew exactly what she wanted and hiked back my sleeping shirt to expose my baby bump.
Elizabeth gave a delighted squeal and started showering the fleshy mound with kisses and rubs, just as she does every morning. Baby Kenneth kicked in response, which made Elizabeth giggle happily and drape little arms over as much of me as she could. Baby Kenneth kicked her all the while.
(The innocence of my unborn children interacting with each other so playfully broke my heart)
"We're going to be okay, babies." I whispered to them as I arranged myself into a more comfortable position. "I'll be strong for both of you. It'll be really, really hard, but I promise bothof you that I'll be strong."
Even if you both have to one day learn a certain fact of life that I'm relearning again: fairy tales aren't real.