Chapter 17

As the months passed, the Belchers were slowly making progress, though they didn't realise it. To them, they were just doing their best to take their new life one day at a time. They worked, they went shopping, they spent time together.

The amount of customers in the restaurant had dwindled, but they still had enough to keep them more than afloat, though the Burger of the Day board still remained blank.

Mostly what kept them going was the knowledge that Louise wanted them to be happy; rarely had they been able to deny her anything, and they weren't going to start now.

They still had moments where they would break down and cry; they would see an adorable puppy being walked past the restaurant and realise Louise wasn't there to gush over it. While cleaning, Bob or Linda would find an old, discarded Brussels sprout under the sofa. A Boyz 4 Now song would come on the radio or the TV, and they would be unable to stop thinking about how they all used to dance around the living-room. They would see DVD trailers for that shark movie Louise had been desperate to see. Bob had promised to take her one evening, just the two of them.

They would occasionally set the table for five instead of four; or catch sight of her clothes at the bottom of the hamper (Linda flat out refused to wash them), and if they happened to see some Sticky Sugar Booms while out, then it was impossible to stop their eyes from welling up.

It'll get easier, they told themselves, bracing their hearts for another day, another hour, another minute without Louise. It will get easier.

But when?

That afternoon, Bob had just got back from picking up Tina from her therapy session; both he and Linda had decided that sending her and Gene to individual therapy as well as family therapy might help them. Tina went after school on Tuesdays, and Gene went after school on Thursdays. It appeared to be working; both the kids were slowly becoming more open and talking to their parents more and more.

Bob and Tina entered the living-room, joining Gene and Linda on the sofa.

"How was it today?" Linda asked, shuffling over a bit, and placing her arm around her daughter.

"Okay," said Tina, her finger running down the spine of her new diary. "We read some of this." She held up the little journal. "Selena wanted to help me understand that it's okay to feel what I was feeling."

"Has it helped?" asked Bob.

"Sometimes," was all Tina said. "I don't like reading this stuff, though; I feel like someone else wrote it."

In response, Linda hugged her tighter.

"There's nothing wrong with you; what you wrote, how you felt, or still feel," said Bob, a phrase he had become well accustomed to saying. "You've both been through a lot."

"Yeah," said Tina, appearing to relax as she leaned back against the sofa. For her, it seemed to be too early to tell whether or not the individual therapy sessions were helping her, but she hoped that they would. Tina remembered what Pop-pop had told her; that the pain just got easier to live with, and sometimes she wondered if he was right. Some days, the pain was so bad she felt as though she was being physically hurt, and on other days, she just felt numb. One thing was certain, it still hurt like hell to think about Louise. She desperately wanted the day to come when she could talk about her sister without wanting to simultaneously throw something and collapse to the ground.

Later, when the kids were in bed, Bob and Linda remained on the sofa, the bunny ears in Linda's hand.

"I remember the fight to get her to take 'em off so I could wash 'em," she said, a hint of a smile in her voice.

"I remember that, too. That was.. not good for my ears." Bob chuckled, looking down at the hat. "Do... do you think maybe we should have tried to wean her off them? Maybe..." he took a deep breath, "if she hadn't been wearing her ears, Logan would never have stolen them, and he might have left her alone."

"Well," Linda began slowly, "we made a choice, that it was her decision to take them off when she was ready. He might not have left her alone. Who knows what would have happened? We can't change the past, though. He chose to keep bullying her," she realised. "That was all him. Even if Louise started it, he should have just walked away."

Bob had to agree; at fifteen, Logan should have known better. In his mind, there was no excuse for Logan bullying his child, or anyone else, for that matter. Okay, teenagers could be stupid, but most of them didn't bully children.

"Why her?" he said after a while. "Why did he have to pick on her?"

"I don't know."

"I mean, I don't get why he had to pick on anyone, but why didn't he just leave her alone? All of our kids?"

"I don't know," Linda repeated, resting her head on his shoulder. "Something was wrong with him to make him do that, though."

Bob nodded, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head.

Something seemed to have sparked in Linda, for the following day, she was on the laptop from after dinner up until bedtime, typing away. While they were watching a movie, Linda would be on the laptop typing; more than a couple of times, Bob would glance over to try and see what she was doing, but she was constantly switching between different tabs, and typing out notes quickly on WordPad, that he gave up. Her gaze was determined, and she responded only in little grunts when asked what she was doing, and so Bob and the kids decided to just leave her to it.

A few evenings later, she appeared to have calmed down, and Bob felt it was time to approach her.

"So, uh, Lin, what have you been doing?"

"Emailing the mayor," she replied, setting the laptop aside. That took Bob by surprise.

"Is this about the Spice Rack thing again? Because I really don't think he decides what gets made."

"No, it's not that. It's..." Linda stretched her legs before standing up. "I've been asking him if I can go to a bunch of different schools and talk to 'em. I even made a slide show." She pointed to the closed laptop as though Bob could see said slide show.

"Oh, really? What about?"

Linda's hand drifted over the laptop, stroking small circles on it. She looked down, and then raised her eyes to Bob.

"Maybe if Logan had had proper anger therapy, maybe he wouldn't have lashed out," she said. "I've asked the mayor if I can talk to kids and teens about anger and stuff. Maybe try and talk about Louise, too. He's said yes."

Bob had to admit, he was a bit taken aback, but not because he thought it was a bad idea.

"Wow, that's great, Lin," he said honestly. "But – is that the reason why Logan is the way he is? I mean, would what you're doing work? I mean, I think it's a really good idea," he added quickly, "but I don't think it would have helped Logan."

"Well, if we can help someone control their anger, then that can only be a good thing, right?" she asked. "I know he was having therapy for his anger, but it clearly wasn't working, was it? I want there to be something to stop something like this from happening again. Maybe a law?"

"A law?"

"Yeah, something that gives tougher punishments for bullies." Linda began to speak quicker, and Bob saw a hint of life coming back to her eyes, and his heart swelled with pride. "We both know he had no consequences at home, so people like him have gotta get them at school. I've asked the Mayor if we can get some really good school counsellors that will stop kids like Logan from becoming bullies in the first place." She paused, biting her lip, before moving closer to Bob. "If I couldn't protect Louise in life, then the least I can do is make sure her death isn't in vain."

Choked up, all Bob could do was nod. Holding his breath, he took her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"I'm with you every step of the way; I think it's a great idea. And Gene and Tina are gonna love it," he told her, meaning every word.

"Thanks, Bobby. Do you really mean you'll support me? And you think Gene and Tina will like it?"

"Of course I'll support you, Lin. And we can tell the kids when they get back. Can I see what you've written?"

A small smile forming, Linda opened the laptop again, and she and Bob sat down together at the kitchen table.

As the months slowly passed by, Linda worked on her slide show and her speeches in the evenings; they attended therapy; Gene and Tina returned to school in September; they worked; they did their best to carry on. It was hard, but they were trying, even though it felt so wrong.

Once again, they were joined by Big Bob for a movie and game night. They'd played Scrabble, with Linda and the kids getting confused over the rules, and watched a Disney classic. Gene, sat on the floor, with his back resting against the sofa, had the open laptop next to him. Not because he was bored or distracted; he had his music videos on his new YouTube channel in a playlist and playing on a loop. He'd gotten quite a few views already, but Gene figured every little helped. He knew that the rest of his family did the same thing every day, and he appreciated it.

"Hey." Completely forgetting about the Jenga tower in front of him, he scooted closer to the laptop. "Look at this."

His family turned to him as he opened the email he'd seen. "It's from Boyz 4 Now," he revealed, turning the laptop around to reveal a download link for the song 'Memories of You'.

"Wow, they sent it to us?" asked Bob.

"It says they wanted us to listen to it first," Gene read.

"What is this?" asked Big Bob, leaning forward and squinting slightly.

"Oh, right." Bob had forgotten to mention it to him. "Louise's favourite band wrote a song for her, and now they've sent it to us."

Big Bob was stunned, but before he could say anything, Gene had clicked on the link, and they all gathered closer around the screen.

It was less pop-ish than their other songs, even their ballads; there were violin strings and a melodious piano line, before the soft, acoustic guitar kicked in. The boys sounded great, with Boo Boo singing the verses, with the others performing backing vocals, while they all joined in and harmonised on the chorus. For the bridge, they took turns singing one line each, before all singing out on the final line, as the orchestration swelled.

When it was over, the family remained silent for a minute or two.

"Wow," Tina breathed. "They've never done anything like that before." She couldn't help but imagine just what Louise had done if Boo Boo had sang this to her in person. She might have completely lost her mind.

"That was amazing," Linda blinked rapidly. "I still can't believe they've done this."

Bob couldn't find any words, so he just sat there, letting the remnants of the music wash over him, while Big Bob was smiling with tears in his eyes.

"Should I write and tell them we like it?" asked Gene, and they all nodded. When he had done so, they returned to their game.

Months later, Bob awoke on the day he had been dreading, he rolled over to see that Linda was awake, too, staring at the ceiling. Wordlessly, he sat up, his gaze drifting to the wrapped gifts on the dresser. It was going to be a hard day. Actually, 'hard' was the understatement of the century; this was going to test his, and his family's, strength, in every sense of the word.

"You ready for this?" he asked.

"No," she said, pushing back the covers and sitting up, looking like she hadn't slept for a week, with a new Kuchi Kopi night light clutched in her hands. Bob clumsily wriggled over and wrapped his arms around her.

Eventually, they managed to get out of bed, and took the gifts into the living-room. They both stared at the balloons, banners and streamers that decorated the area, and placed the presents on the coffee table. "Do you think she'll like them?" Linda asked, referring to the gifts and decorations.

"I think so," Bob replied.

When they'd gotten dressed, they woke the kids up, and they ate breakfast in silence.

"What are we gonna do today?" asked Gene quietly, his eyes on the table.

"Um, we got some stuff planned, but it's more afternoon/evening," said Bob. "We're not opening the restaurant today, and Pop-pop, Gayle, Al, and Gloria are coming down."

Gene only nodded, his head still down.

Slowly and silently, they continued to eat, the quiet hanging over them like a thick fog. None of them knew what to say or what to do.

"Do you think Louise is ten in heaven?" he asked after a while, causing them to stop eating. Tina looked up at her parents, who looked as if they were just holding it together.

"I think Louise is everything she'd ever wanted to be in heaven," said Linda with a watery smile. Once again, Gene nodded, and one by one, the family slowly resumed their meal.

After breakfast, they decided to watch a movie; the rest of the family wouldn't arrive for a few hours yet. But it was to be a special movie, one of Louise's favourites.

Kneeling in front of the television, Bob scanned the few DVDs they had, trying to find one Louise had really liked, eventually settling on "Deep Blue Sea". Louise had always preferred this one over "Jaws" because there were more sharks, and you saw them a lot more often. Bob chuckled lightly as he remembered despairing over her declaration – how could she like "Deep Blue Sea" better than "Jaws"? Okay, she was a kid, but surely she recognised a classic when she saw one? He put the film on and returned to the sofa. Linda had the Louise photo album her lap, holding it gently, while Tina had her journal resting by her side.

While the movie played, Bob had to admit that maybe Louise had been onto something; the film was fun, the kind you could watch with friends and enjoy yourself, whereas "Jaws" was more of a serious film.

He couldn't help but think of the pet goldfish he and Linda had given her as a Christmas present a few years previous. "You gotta be ten to get a shark," she'd assumed, and Bob had planned to take her to the aquarium for her tenth birthday, so she could see the sharks, and possibly feed them again, too. It was going to be a surprise, and he knew she would have loved it.

Bob couldn't stop thinking about that goldfish; Louise had stepped up and proven herself responsible pet owner, feeding it regularly, but it had died a few weeks after she had got it. Through no fault of her own, of course. Bob recalled how she hadn't seemed too upset over it, but she had refused to let Bob and Linda flush it away.

"I hope real sharks never get this smart," Tina shuddered.

"Yeah, it wouldn't be good," Bob agreed. "We'd all be doomed."

"Maybe there'd be shark whisperers, like in 'Jurassic World'," Gene mused, tilting his head. "Then they could talk to the sharks, and try to get them to stop."

"Yeah, I guess that could work," said Linda. If there could be Velociraptor whisperers, then there was no reason why there couldn't be shark whisperers.

A little more than halfway into the movie, Bob's phone buzzed, and he leaned over to check it.

"Oh, it says they're gonna be here in about 45 minutes," he said, reading the text message from his father.

"Okay," Linda nodded. Bob typed out a reply, and they resumed watching the film.

When it had finished, Linda and the kids headed into the kitchen, while Bob remained in the living-room.

Gene and Tina sat at the table, watching as Linda got mixing bowls, measuring cups, wooden spoons, and a whisk out of her baking supplies cupboard. Wordlessly, both kids got up, and helped their mother measure out the caster sugar, the butter, the flour. Gene cracked the eggs, while Tina and Linda took turns whisking, and they did their best to keep the stilted conversation afloat, though it did not work, and they dwindled into silence as they worked.

Linda couldn't help but wonder if people would think they were strange for doing this. She didn't care what they thought, of course – had she ever? But she couldn't not make a cake for Louise's birthday; especially as it was a milestone birthday; she was ten now. As it was a special occasion, Linda had made Louise's favourite; chocolate sponge cake with chocolate frosting, and with sprinkles stirred into the cake mixture. Tina helped Linda make the frosting, while Gene was on clean up duty, which was code for him licking the mixing bowl clean, and he finished in time to help Tina and Linda decorate the cake. They covered it in more sprinkles, silver balls, green coloured chocolate frosting, which Linda piped around the edge of the cake, and candles – ten, of course. There was no way Louise would settle for number candles – that would mean she only got to blow out two. No way would she allow that; no, she would have to have had ten individual candles.

"I hope it tastes as good as it looks," said Tina, admiring the finished creation.

"Hey, what are you saying? I made this," Linda gave her a playful nudge. "Have I ever made anything that wasn't delicious?"

"Well, there were those sweet potato pies," said Gene, and Tina nodded vigorously.

"Apart from those. Those don't count," Linda insisted. Honestly, how was she supposed to have known that she needed to add sugar to sweet potato pies? They were already sweet; it was literally in the name.

"You're right; everything you make is delicious," said Gene. He didn't even need to think about it; his mother (and father) made the best food in the world, especially Linda, because it was always made with love.

Soon after, the rest of the family arrived; Gayle had brought a gift, so had Big Bob, and Al and Gloria. Again, how could they not?

Linda and the kids found themselves encased in a heartbroken group hug, and they stayed like that for ages, not saying a word.

"How are you doing?" murmured Gloria.

"I don't know," said Linda honestly, and Gloria hugged her tighter.

"The cake looks nice," said Gloria, once they had all separated.

"Thanks, we just finished making it. Thought I'd take a slice down there today," Linda said, and Bob came over and stood next to her.

"That'd be nice."

They remained standing in the kitchen, shuffling from one foot to the other, wanting to do what they were about to, but dreading it at the same time.

It took them a while to gather their collective strength, but silently, they piled into the car to visit a place that never got any easier. That day, it seemed like every single step they took was like they were stepping further and further into wet cement. They passed gravestone after gravestone, colourful leaves crunching underneath their heavy footsteps, as rays of mid-afternoon sun shone through the gaps in the trees.

Bob held Linda's hand, while his father walked closely next to him. Linda's arm was around Gene, while Big Bob's arm was around Tina, while Gayle, Al, and Gloria walked next to them.

It didn't take long for them to spot the pink marble bunny ears in the distance, and the family were momentarily frozen at the sight, as they always were. It seemed like every time they saw her headstone, it was the first time. Every time they saw it, they were greeted with the horrible knowledge that Louise was really gone, and they were never going to see her again, and visiting her grave was the only way they could be physically near her.

Tina felt tears welling in her eyes; it was funny, ever since her breakdown, she had been getting teary eyed and emotional over almost everything. To her, it was a tiny bit funny how hard the pendulum swung in the opposite direction.

Wordlessly, they stopped directly in front of the headstone, staring at it, before, as if ordered to by some invisible force, they began to move. Bob placed the helium "Happy Birthday!" balloon he'd brought with him next to the marker, where it fluttered and dance in the gentle breeze. He'd kept the weight attached to it so there was no chance of it floating away.

Linda stepped forward and put the bouquet of pink and green roses she had ordered on the ground in front of the headstone, while the rest of the family arranged their gifts around it. Tina and Gene watched in silence, with Tina squeezing her brother's hand comfortingly. All week, Bob had been asking him if he wanted to go, and that he could stay at home if he wished; they wouldn't force him. But Gene had insisted. Louise was ten; he always celebrated his sisters' birthdays.

Since there were no nearby benches, they all sat down on the floor in a semicircle around Louise's grave, before words and movement failed them again.

The sight before them, a gravestone surrounded by gifts, flowers, a balloon, and a slice of birthday cake made Bob feel squirmy inside, like he was at some sort of macabre picnic. He was beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea after all.

"You know, this seemed a lot better in my head," Linda muttered, seemingly reading his mind.

"No, it looks great," Bob assured her. "It just seems weird because..." he broke off, but they all knew what he meant. "I know she appreciates this, and we had to celebrate her turning ten."

"You're right," she said, her gaze flickering over the setup once again. On a second glance, it didn't look that bad.

Quietly, they began to talk to Louise, putting on brave faces as best they could. They told her how much they missed her, and that they couldn't believe it was her birthday already. Time had gone so quickly. The more they spoke, the less strange the situation seemed to be; they were just a family celebrating a birthday. It may not be conventional, but that's what they were doing. They talked to her as if she was sitting right in front of them; Nadia was right – it helped a little bit.

Linda reached into her pocket and pulled out a worn, folded piece of paper, and she unfolded it, staring straight at Louise's marker. She looked down at the untidy scrawl, and took a deep breath.

"Louise," she began, lifting her eyes to her headstone once again. "I had no idea how I should start this letter, there didn't seem to be a right way." She paused, remembering the long hours in her bedroom, surrounded by crumpled up sheets of paper, her cheeks wet with tears. In the end, she had just decided to close and her eyes, and just let the words she couldn't speak flow out of her. "Losing you was the most horrible experience of my life, and it will always hurt, knowing that you're not here with us. Carrying on without you is the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but I know I've got to do it." Linda paused then, exhaling slowly, trying to calm her shaking hands. "We're trying to live the way you wanted us to, and I cherish the memories we had with you. We all do. I've learned to appreciate the small things in life, because I know that it can all change. You always brought out the best in us, and we're continuing to bring out the best in each other.

I know I'll see you again soon..." again, Linda hesitated, because honestly, she couldn't wait for that moment. "And I know that there is light at the end of the tunnel; we just need to find it. I'm so honoured and privileged to be your mom, never forget that. I love you forever, my baby."

A heavy silence fell over the group once she had finished. Gene rested his head on her shoulder, while Tina reached past Gene to take her mother's hand. Bob rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.

One by one, the rest of the family pulled out their letters, and, in shaking voices, began to read them to Louise.

As soon as they had stepped through the front door, the tears began falling. Bob didn't know how they all managed to make it upstairs when they were practically blinded by their tears. For what seemed like an eternity, they huddled together on the sofa, terribly squashed, and just cried. Their shoulders shook, their chests heaved, their lips trembled, and they hearts broke even more than they already had.

But they had each other. They were able to turn to each other for comfort, for hugs and hand holds, and it helped a lot. It was a pain that nobody who hadn't experienced it could ever begin to understand, and in their own way, it brought them closer than it ever had.

When they had calmed down a little bit and got their breath back, they rearranged themselves on the sofa, trying to make sure they were all comfortable. It ended up with Bob and Linda sat on cushions on the floor, while Gene and Tina sat on Big Bob's and Gayle's laps, respectively.

"I remember," Bob began, the tiniest hint of a smile on his face, "one time I was driving the kids to school, and she ordered me to park a block away. So no one would see the 'Loser Mobile'," he air quoted, and Big Bob chuckled.

"Dad, let us out here," said Louise, and Bob glanced at her in the rear view mirror, feeling confused.

"What? Why?"

"Because we're not gonna let people see us in the Loser Mobile," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Bob chuckled, but carried on driving.

"Sorry, Louise, I'm dropping you guys off outside the school."

"Oh, come on!"

Bob recalled her frustrated shouting plain as day, and he drooped as he realised he would never hear it again, except in his memory.

"I can remember looking after the kids when she was little," said Big Bob. "And she ran me ragged; I don't think I'd ever been so tired. Where did that energy come from? She wanted to play with the water, but did she fill up the sink? No, she took ice from the freezer, and threw it all over the floor so it melted."

"Oh, yeah, I remember that," said Tina. She had walked into Big Bob's kitchen, and had promptly fallen straight on her back, while toddler Louise jumped and splashed about the room, squealing with delight.

"Can't believe I forgot about that," Linda murmured, managing to smile at the memory. "I can't believe she did that. Well, I can, but you know what I mean."

"I just came running in, and I couldn't believe my eyes. Louise said she was water skating." He laughed, along with everyone else.

"She was just always so.. into everything," said Gloria. "It was like she had to be involved in everything."

"She was so excited to turn ten," said Linda, a faint smile on her face. "I remember she thought that reaching double digits meant she was a grown up."

"Oh, yeah. She was planning what she'd do once she was an adult," said Bob. "She wanted to do everything." He fell quiet, as did everyone else. Louise had insisted that once she was a grown up, i.e., ten; she wanted to drive, she wanted to eat ice cream for every meal, she wanted an increase in her allowance. She would never get to do any of that, and Bob slumped again. None of them would ever know what she could have grown up to be, and it hurt. She had been so full of potential. Ruler of the world was the least she could have been.

By the time evening had come, the Belchers were alone once again. They'd had a small but steady stream of visitors, but now the last of them had left. Big Bob had had to leave, so he could get things ready for his diner the following day, and Gayle, Al, and Gloria didn't want to overstay their welcome.

They stared at the small pile of gifts on the table, finding it strange to see them still wrapped up; Louise had always been desperate to open her presents as soon as she woke up. Only in the past couple of years, Bob and Linda had somehow managed to convince her to open just one after breakfast, before saving the rest until school had finished.

Linda couldn't help but wonder if Louise knew what they had bought her. Could she see through wrapping paper? Linda didn't think that she could, and that was why she found herself unwrapping her gift. She had bought Louise 'The Adventures of Kuchi Kopi' on DVD, and Bob had got her a Kuchi Kopi plush. Gene had thought hard to get Louise something she would love, and so he'd got her a little box of shark teeth, while Tina had purchased a little Hawk and Chick figurine she'd found online.

"Do you think she'll like them?" Linda whispered.

"She'll love them," Bob assured her.

In between the television and the window was a small table. The Louise photo album was propped up at the back, resting against the wall. On one side rested a framed photo of Louise, smiling widely. On the other side was a ceramic heart engraved with the words 'Louise, forever in our hearts' on it. This and the picture rested behind a pillar candle, encased in a cream opaque glass holder. On the front of the holder, which was a gift from Al and Gloria, were the words:

'Light this in memory of me

And I will be with you for eternity

In Loving Memory of Louise.'

It had inadvertently been Gene's idea; he didn't want to burn a memorial candle, just to throw it away, and so Al and Gloria had surprised them with the holder, which they could keep forever. The idea for the little memory table had come from Tina; after watching the movie 'Coco' (which had been a huge mistake), she had been really intrigued by the idea of an ofrenda, and so she and Bob had put something together that was similar, only they didn't take theirs down.

That evening, when everyone had left, the four of them gathered around the table to light the candle. They watched the flame dance, illuminating the photo, the album, and the heart, casting tiny shadows. Gene leaned backwards, resting against Linda, who ruffled his hair, kissing the top of his head.

"Happy birthday, Louise," Bob whispered.

~ X ~

Yeah. I didn't get enjoyment out of writing this one. I mean, the whole story has been hard to write, but this chapter hit differently, because, again, I had to put myself in the familys' shoes.
Still, I hope you were able to enjoy it.