Chapter One
Beginning
Michelle was born on November 13, 1986 in San Francisco. At the time, I was married and had two other daughters. My wife's name was Pamela Marie Katsopolis, but we called her Pam. Pam had wavy blonde hair and manila skin. When I first laid eyes on her, I told myself then that she was the girl I was going to marry. Her smile could brighten up a room. She had an infectious laugh and she was extremely pretty.
My first daughter, Donna Jo Margaret was born in 1977. Donna Jo (We later just called her D.J. for short) inherited Pam's smile and doting ways. Pam always doted over all of us; so quite simply, she passed that on to D.J.
Four years later, our next daughter, Stephanie Judith was born. Stephanie also inherited Pam's smile, but not much her doting ness. Stephanie inherited Pam's sense of humor and her excitability. Pam could get overexcited about almost anything. Stephanie tends to follow in her mother's footsteps.
And last, but certainly not least, came Michelle Elisabeth. Michelle came into the world, but she inherited Pam's charm. When Michelle was a little older, she reminded me a little of Pam. Michelle could sweet-talk her way out of any situation when she was little. My brother-in-law, Jesse, says Pam was like Michelle in that way, too. And Michelle loved sweets. Cake, cookies, pie, muffins, candy…Michelle would eat it. And Pam loved the stuff as well.
When Pam was pregnant with Michelle, she had regular cravings for sweets and she ate them almost everyday.
"That's why I was so chubby as a baby," Michelle once said to me. "'Cause Mom was feeding me all those sweets. Cool!"
A few weeks after Michelle was born and Pam was home, the family became more adjusted to having another baby in the house, especially Stephanie. Stephanie officially became the middle child after Michelle was born. And she hated it. D.J. tried to throw her weight around, trying to boss Stephanie around and Stephanie felt us parents were ignoring her because we were too busy catering to Michelle.
Eventually, we had a long family meeting and began discussing plans to try to bond more as a family. Pam suggested a family barbecue in the backyard. She invited her family over and I just invited my old friend from college, Joseph Gladstone to come, since my family was out of town at the time.
We set a date for the barbecue for Wednesday. Pam was to go shopping and then pick up her brother, Jesse and then come back here.
It never happened.
Just after leaving the supermarket, Pam was on her way to pick up Jesse. At an intersection near the store, Pam had just pulled up to the other side of the intersection on the green light. A man had run a red light and hit her head-on, killing her instantly. The man also happened to be drunk driving, we found out later.
I was at home with the girls and Joey, waiting for Pam to come home. Jesse called me, looking for Pam.
"Pam was supposed to pick me up at least an hour ago," he complained.
I knew Pam wasn't exactly punctual, like I was, but she had her days when she was late and early. Pam was like that.
"Jess, just hold on. She'll come," I reassured him.
"Okay. I'll see you guys later," he said.
We hung up.
"Daddy, I'm hungry. When's Mom comin' home?" Stephanie whined.
"Soon, sweetie," I said. "Real soon."
"How soon?"
"Don't be such a baby, baby," D.J. taunted.
"I am not a baby!" Stephanie replied huffily.
"Are too."
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"NO I AM NOT!" Stephanie shrieked, waking up Michelle.
"Girls! Enough!" I shouted. The noise woke up Michelle and she began fussing and crying. Joey went to pick up her up and comfort her.
"But she started it!" Stephanie said, pointing at D.J.
"I've had enough of this. You girls haven't stopped fighting since your mother brought Michelle home. She planned this day to get everyone together and this is how you repay her? With even more bickering? Now, I'm only going to say this once and that's to stop fighting and arguing. You guys are sisters and you need to work together. You're going to have to be a big role model for Michelle when she gets older because she's going to look up to you. All this bickering is not the way. Now, do I make myself clear?"
Stephanie nodded. So did D.J.
"Sorry, Dad," they apologized.
Meanwhile, Joey was singing Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star to Michelle in a imitation baby voice. The three of us couldn't help but start laughing.
Four hours later, Pam still hadn't shown up. Jesse was with us now. So were his parents. But no Pam. The hot dogs, hamburgers and grilled corn-on-the-cob sat in the grill untouched.
"I want Mommy. Daddy, where's Mommy?" Stephanie asked.
I didn't know how to answer the question.
"This is ridiculous. I'll be right back," Jesse replied, walking into the house.
He went into the kitchen and picked up the phone and started dialing.
"Jess, what are you doing?" I asked.
"Calling the police," he said simply.
A minute or so later, he spoke.
"Yes, good evening. I'd like to report a missing person. Blonde hair, brown eyes, about 5'5 feet tall. Her name is Pamela Tanner."
It was quiet for a moment.
Then Jesse's face grew pale. "No. You can't be serious? Tell me you're not serious! No! I won't believe it! YOU AREN'T SERIOUS!"
Jesse's shouts became obvious to everyone in the house now. His parents suddenly appeared to take the kids outside.
Whatever was going on over the phone was making Jesse more and more angrier. And I'd never seen him so angry. Actually, he looked more than angry. He looked livid.
"Don't fucking lie to me! She can't be dead! She's not fucking dead! She IS NOT DEAD!"
Tears began flowing down his face. He gripped the table tightly with his free hand and collapsed. He sobbed into his hand and hung up the phone.
"Jess?" I asked uncertainly. "What happened?"
It took a moment for him to gain his composure. He turned to me gravely and spoke slowly.
"The police called. They want us to come down to see Pam," he replied.
"Well, is she alright?" I asked, although I already sensed she was gone.
Jesse began to cry again and that's when I knew something had gone wrong.
"Something terrible happened to Pam, didn't it? Jess, what happened to Pam? Where is she?"
"She's at the morgue, Danny. She's dead," he said, bursting into a sea of tears again.
I don't know what happened to me then, but the last thing I remember was passing out on the kitchen floor.
I had lost Pam. My sweet, wonderful, lovely wife. My soul mate, my lover and my best friend. I couldn't believe it. And I didn't want to believe it. Little did I know I'd have to go through the pain of losing a loved one all over again.
