Last chapter didn't seem to be received too well. Admittedly bums me out a bit because it was a key chapter and I thought it wasn't that bad. Anyway, I won't dwell on it and just hope that you're still interested in reading.

We're heading into part two of the story. This is set in 2008, shortly after where I left it off in the last chapter. Purely narrative and fairly short, it's a hommage to the prologue. This will read familiar, which is purely intentional. When I procured the idea for the story, I had this déjà vu like situation in mind and I wanted to reflect it in my writing. I hope it works out okay.

I'm only posting this already, because it is so short. Next chapters are already written but will take longer for me to revise since I don't have the time for at least a week.

Part II

Chapter Eight

And Nothing, Nothing Is as It Used to Be

L'aupaire – Whoever You Are

They buried Sadhbh Halstead on October 13, 2008.

A funeral reception was held in McInerney's Central Chapel. McInerney's not only provided its service in a most respectful and sensible way to grieving families, it was also affordable. Money was a deciding factor when it came to choosing a suitable funeral home for Sadhbh. With a truckload of medical bills accumulating over the years, money was tight for the Halsteads. A lack of orders during the long Chicago winter months had put them in a tough spot long before Sadhbh had fallen ill; the extra work her husband had picked up in addition to his full-time construction job once the first claim had fluttered in hadn't even begun to cover their expenses. It hadn't helped that the oldest son had moved to New York and worked himself through med school there either. And while the youngest had contributed as much as he could with barista and delivery jobs throughout high school and by sending his paychecks from the Army Rangers later, it still hadn't been enough to make ends meet.

The Halsteads had been in financial straits for a long time and the funeral costs put yet another dent in their pockets. McInerney's might have been affordable, but it wasn't within their means. It was, however, acceptable enough not to burden the ever-growing debts beyond acquittance.

Jay couldn't be bothered with the reasons why his father had selected this place. Payment plans had been the least of his sorrows as he had sat there on the eighth, next to his old man who seemed worried exclusively about the monetary issues. If the younger man had been rational, he might have understood why Patrick was so parsimonious: winter was impending, therefore orders would be sparse. But having just lost his mother to cancer, Jay was anything but reasonable. So, when Halstead senior had rejected yet another proposal, the junior had lost his cool and showered him with rather colorful expletives. It had resulted in the old man leaving, but he had made a point of letting him know that not a cent could be expected from him if Jay chose arrangements which he hadn't agreed to.

From there on out, the ranger had been on his own to discuss service options with the funeral director; his older brother Will still in the unknown about Sadhbh's demise since he didn't answer his phone. As he had picked out material and shape of the urn, floral decorations and the color scheme for the wreaths and ribbons he didn't care about what his father thought. His mother deserved a venerable memorial, not a half-assed burial because money was tight. She hadn't asked for any of this. Thus, for him there was only one option: he'd pay from his own pocket if he had to even if it put him in debt.

When he realized that not only had his father left him to deal with the funeral arrangements but also refused to contact the people who would want to come to the reception in favor of hiding away in Kelly's Tavern, Jay had felt the stress increase tenfold. Mouse offered his assistance, but the young man declined, arguing that this was something he needed to do alone, that people would want to hear from a Halstead and not a random family friend that they didn't know. It made sense to Greg, so he merely hovered at a close distance and drove by the house twice a day to make sure the young sergeant ate. "Don't hesitate to call me. Day and night. I'm here," he urged by way of goodbye after every visit. Jay expressed his gratitude every time, but he never called his comrade.

Working through the list of friends and acquaintances of his late mother took up most of the ninth and tenth. The list had been long. Sadhbh had amassed a large circle of people over the years: her coworkers from working in the library, students from mentoring programs as well as teaching sean-nôs dancing and the fiddle at the youth center, also a bunch of people she had encountered through her volunteer work at the local food bank and various social commitments. The vast amount of people was astonishing but not at all surprising to Jay; Sadhbh had been sociable and well-liked by everyone she met, her kind and loving nature something that made them trust her instinctively.

Amidst contacting what felt like hundreds of people, the youngest Halstead stopped every other hour to try and get his older brother on the line but was forwarded after the fifth ring every time. That was until late on the ninth, three days after their mother's passing, Will finally picked up his phone. Their conversation had been brief, matter of fact and highly reserved on Will's part which had disheartened Jay more than he would admit. Nevertheless, his brother booked a flight for the twelfth as soon as he heard his brother's strangled 'mom died' and flown in from New York. A huge weight was lifted off his chest and a glimmer of buoyancy ignited that maybe, with Will by his side the loss of their mom would be a tad more bearable.

His hopes abated on the day of his brother's arrival only to vanish altogether later throughout the ceremony. Will's demeanor was reticent. Bar a single lopsided hug at the airport physical contact between the siblings was basically nonexistent and witnessing the more affectionate full-on embrace between him and their old man made his blood run cold. Jay grew numb after that, unable to even feel so much as jealously. There was only bone-deep weariness and all-encompassing sadness left as he ached for nothing more than for his mom to take him in her arms and comfort him.

Emptiness and feelings of abandonment hit their peak on the day of the reception.

Patrick Halstead had always found a way of victimizing himself, be it on the job, with his buddies or at home. This time was no different. During the ceremony he managed to mooch a surfeit of consolations and pities off pretty much all the funeral's attendees. Jay wasn't even surprised when the old man shamelessly adorned himself with borrowed feathers. "Lilies and sunflowers were always Sadhbh's favorites," was a line recited to everyone who asked and those who didn't ask as well. And just as well rehearsed, "the color reminds me of my wife's once beautiful ginger hair," when inquiries in the choice of a mahogany urn was made. Jay wanted to gag when he heard the fake thickness in his dad's voice and the ease with which the old man lied in their faces, pretended that he'd put thought into any of this. To some extent, he expected it from his father, but it hurt no less.

Will was smoother, more sophisticated. Having always been a charmer and sycophant seven years of academic education highlighted the trait even more. Throughout their childhood it had gotten him the sought-after attention and Jay used to envy him for his skill to sweet-talk everyone. Now, on the day of their mother's funeral he felt immensely disgusted by it. He watched as the young doctor-to-be wrapped the guests around his fingers. As he preened himself on the beauty of the ceremony, the chosen ornaments as if he had pitched in on their selections in a similar albeit much more classy way than Patrick. Jay hadn't anticipated it, not from Will. But his older brother, with his neat tux and flawlessly coiffured hair somehow ended up rubbing him the wrong way through all of it. So much more so than his father ever could.

Shocked and incensed as he was, Jay swallowed his pride. Watched as people came up to the Halstead trio one by one and offered their commiserations. Bit down hard on the insides of his cheeks when they praised only the two older family members for the excellent decorations. Jay didn't care about the attention. In fact, he couldn't care less that people didn't give him any credit for the arrangements. He could have said something, could have corrected them if he really wanted to, he just didn't see a reason for it. What did it matter anyway? For him, it was enough to know that people considered the cream and lime theme presenting throughout the flourishes lovely, thoughtful and oh so very fitting for his mom's high-spirited and kind-hearted personality regardless of who got the recognition for them. He himself knew it had been his choices. Knowing that he seemed to have picked the right one's filled him with a sense of calm.

No, lack of faith in him and his decision making wasn't what infuriated him to no end. It was both his father and his brother for having the audacity to stand there and make-believe that they knew how hard the last couple months had been, though neither of them had been there. Neither of them had held her hand – a hand so fragile that it might snap if one squeezed too tight – while having theirs crushed in a death grip through episodes of unimaginable pain. Neither of them had seen her get thinner with every passing day, so wafer-thin that she was basically swallowed by the mountainous pillows and blankets. Neither had seen her so anemic that she barely even stood out from the white hospital sheets anymore. And neither of them had heard the nonsensical drug-induced hallucinations, with the occasional coherent words thrown into the mix. Words of consolation that she accepted her impending faith, that she was ready for what came next and that he should be too. Also, prayers that her three men would be there for one another, would find a way to help one another through the grief once she was gone.

Jay wanted to tell them. He wanted to yell and scream at Patrick and Will, wanted them to know what it had been like, wanted them to feel the way he felt, wanted to beg them to at least grant her last wish and be a family again. But he did none of that. Instead of giving in to his ever-growing resentment and excruciating anguish, he pushed it all down and remained quiet. The only sound from his mouth were the whispered thankyous alongside fake close-lipped smiles when a rare guest remembered that there was a third grieving Halstead right there, standing one foot behind and two off to the side of his father and brother.

It was heart-shattering for the youngest that they didn't think about taking him in their midst. That he seemed irrelevant, almost invisible to them. Aside from the deep heartache of losing his mom it was one of if not the worst feeling he had ever experienced: to be dismissed and forgotten about by his own flesh and blood. But he couldn't, he wouldn't allow himself to crumple, wouldn't allow the façade to slip. Not in front of so many people, even if he was just as unseen by them as he was his own relatives. So, he gulped down the constant onslaught of tears instead, not a lone one granted to slip passed the imaginary barrier. He was too tired, too physically drained and mentally exhausted beyond imagination. And as he stood there watching Patrick and Will side by side, their shoulders brushing the entire time and an occasional reassuring pat on the back exchanged between them, Jay couldn't help but feel utterly and miserably alone.

Next installment will be set in 2018, so there's going to be some Halstead brother interaction. I figure that's what some of you are more interested in.

Stay safe and healthy everyone.