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Rated: T

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

This chapter is for my dear friend, Frogster15, who celebrated her birthday on Wednesday. Welcome to 24, I hope it's good to you.

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Chapter 7

Chicago

The months and years passed quickly and they kept up their letter correspondence. Sometimes, they would write to each other three times a week. Before Teresa knew it she was on the verge of 13-years-old, the very age Patrick had been when he had first started writing each other. She was excited about the growing up process, about first dates, periods, sleep away camp, and Catholic school. But then something happened, something that caused her to grow up faster than most girls her age.

Dear Patrick,

How do you write about something that changed your life? How do you put into words when you lose somebody that means the world to you? I don't know how to say it; I don't know how to find the words to tell you my mother is dead.

She went out to buy ice cream to celebrate a good grade on my history test and a drunk driver hit her. They said she was dead on arrival. They couldn't do anything to help her, she was just gone. She didn't even have a chance. The drunk driver is in critical condition, but he will probably pull through. My aunt says that they always do. I can't hate him the way everybody else does though. There had to be tragic circumstances in his life to make him go out and get so drunk that he wasn't thinking clearly enough when he got in his car. I cannot believe he got into the car with the intent to kill somebody, with the intent to harm anybody. He just wasn't thinking clearly.

I miss my mom, Patrick. I keep expecting her to walk through the door with ice cream or to be singing one of her favorite Irish hymns while she cleans the house. I can still hear the words of How Great Thou Art so clearly. I can imagine her telling me that God is great even though He took her away from me too soon. And so, I choose not to be bitter and angry or turn my back on Him. The faith I always thought was my mother and my father's alone has become mine during this time in my life.

Yesterday my aunt gave me my mother's cross necklace. She got it from the police and said my mother had been planning on giving me one just like it on my first day of Catholic school. It makes me feel like I am closer to her and I don't think I will ever take it off.

I wish you were here my closest friend. Leah is here as often as possible and her strength is getting me through this time just as much as God is. But I still want you; you always know what to say. You always know what to do. And I think you could tell me what it would be like to live without my mother.

Please think of me often. Write to me soon. I need to hear from you, I need some reassurance that not everybody in my life is going to leave because I'm afraid I will turn around and somebody else I love will be gone.

Love,

Teresa

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Florida

Patrick folded up the letter after reading it through a couple times. His heart ached for his young friend and her mammoth loss. He wiped away the tears from his cheeks and then stashed the letter away with all the others she had sent him over the course of two years. He grabbed his sandals and shut out the trailer lights, not bothering to leave his father a note to tell him where he was going.

He ran to Eddie's house, ignoring the way the weather wrapped around him like a blanket and the way sweat broke out on his back. He wasn't thinking clearly, he wasn't thinking about anything except for Teresa.

Eddie was outside, practicing skateboard tricks when he got to the Miller household. His friend stopped abruptly and frowned when he saw him. "Man, you look like you've seen a ghost," he said.

"How much money do you have?" Patrick asked in way of greeting.

"I dunno," Eddie answered. "How much do you need?"

"Half of whatever it costs to two round trip, greyhound tickets to Chicago," Patrick replied.

"Boy, why are you going to Chicago?" Eddie asked, putting his hands on his hips, his frown deepening.

"I'm not going to Chicago alone, you're coming with me!"

"Oh no, you've got that crazy look on your face! The one you wear when you come up with one of your crazy plans. Well, I'm not going to be a part of it. No sir! There's no way that you're dragging me to Chicago! My parents would ground me for a month! No for a year!"

"Eddie, we have to go to Chicago. Teresa's mother was killed in a car crash a few days ago."

"Oh, well, why didn't you say that in the first place?" Eddie asked.

Patrick made a face. "Would have it helped?"

"No! What are you thinking? We can't just go and crash somebody's funeral! Especially when they aren't expecting us! Where do you think they're going to put us? Do you expect them to feed us?"

"So, you're coming with me?"

"Yeah," Eddie answered. "We'll have to wait until my parents are asleep though, I wouldn't want them to get suspicious."

"Or you could just say you're spending the night at my house."

"Or I could do that," Eddie agreed. "I'll just go and pack a bag, and get my money from my underwear drawer."

"Why do you keep your money in your underwear drawer?" Patrick asked. "That's the first place they look because everyone always assumes that's the place you'll put it because you think it's the last place they'll look."

"You are so weird," Eddie informed him as he picked up his skateboard and stashed it on the porch.

"Patrick!" Mrs. Miller said, coming out of the porch and wiping her hands off on a worn kitchen towel. "We haven't seen you in a while!"

"And you're not going to," Eddie replied. "We're going to his house to study because it's quiet there, if you catch my drift."

"Are you telling me what you're doing Edward? Or asking me?" Mrs. Miller asked.

"Asking," Eddie answered. "I'm definitely asking."

"You can go," Mrs. Miller told him. "But you have to be back by bedtime."

"But mom!" Eddie protested, stopping abruptly when Patrick jabbed him in the ribs. "Ooof, I mean, okay. . . I'll be back by then! I just need to go to my bedroom and grab my backpack. Come on Patrick."

Patrick followed him to his bedroom and watched as Eddie emptied his books out of his backpack and stuffed them under his mattress. "Don't just stand there, start getting my clothes and money out before my mom comes in and finds us!"

"Eddie!" Patrick said in exasperation.

"Just do it! There is no way I am going on a road trip without fresh underwear! Or at least two changes of clothes! You won't like it either when we both start to stink!"

"Okay, okay!" Patrick replied, opening up drawers and scooping clothes out and throwing them at Eddie.

"Hey!" Eddie protested. "Can't you fold them properly!"

"We only have until ten 'o'clock to get out of here! We can worry about folding them properly at a rest stop or something!" Patrick answered.

"Fine!" Eddie said, rolling his eyes as he went to his underwear drawer and pulled out four pairs of boxer shorts and a wooden box, he took a wad of bills out of the box and stuffed it into the back of his jeans. "Okay, let's get out of here! I'm sure we need to stop by your house and get clothes and money."

"I already have money. . ." Patrick hedged

"Oh no, I am not traveling with you if you don't bring a change of clothes."

"Fine! We'll go back to my trailer and get some clothes, but then we're leaving for the greyhound station."

"Uh, Patrick, the greyhound station is an hour away if we skateboard. And don't you think it'll be a good idea to tell somebody where we're going?"

Patrick huffed. "We'll go and ask Candy to give us a ride, and we'll tell her where we're going. Happy?"

"I guess, but what if Candy spills the beans to Billy?"

"Candy isn't going to spill the beans to Billy!" Patrick answered.

"Why not? She's married to the man isn't she? My mom tells my dad everything. Truth is the foundation of any good marriage."

"We'll tell her she can't tell anybody else other than Billy! Now stop talking and start moving!" Patrick said.

"Aye, aye Captain!" Eddie answered, smirking as he saluted him.

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Chicago

Teresa clutched her rosary beads between both her hands and closed her burning eyes as Siobhan's best friend; Maeve started to sing the Last Rose of Summer. Leah was sitting next to her with her hand on her knee. Pretty soon the service was going to be over and they would be heading to the cemetery to bury her. As she thought about the pallbearers closing her mother's coffin and lowering her into the ground, she could hardly breathe.

"It's okay," Leah whispered, sensing her distress. "It's all going to be okay."

But Teresa knew that her best friend didn't really believe it, they both knew that it wouldn't be okay. At least not for the time being. But still, it was a comfort to hear her say it.

Maeve ended her song and hung her head for a moment, before she went back to her pew and the arms of her husband. There was a pause and then the priest nodded to the pallbearers. Her brothers, a cousin, father, and her close guy friend from high school all lovingly closed the lid of the coffin and made a slow processional out of the church as another family friend played Amazing Grace on the bagpipes.

Teresa got to her feet and with Leah's help; she followed her family out of the church. They stood outside while her mother was loaded into the hearse. Leah held her hand tightly but didn't say anything more.

She stared sightlessly at the car that would take her mother away and tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. For a second, she thought about Patrick. She had looked for his words of comfort and assurance among the bevy of with sympathy cards that had come through the mail, but he hadn't sent her anything. Not a card or a note, or one of his long letters filled with facts and funny stories.

There had been flowers from Candy and her new husband, Billy. It had surprised her father and touched her to know somebody that she had never met cared about her. She released a deep breath and prayed that maybe there would be a letter from Patrick when she got home from the funeral and after everybody had left them alone for once and for all.

"Come milis," Maeve said in her soft Irish accent. "Your father is waiting for you in the limo with the rest of your family. Leah and I will see you at the cemetery."

Leah turned to her and hugged her. "It'll be okay," she said again.

Teresa nodded and hugged her back before taking Maeve's hand and following her to the limo. Maeve took her into her arms and held her for a long while before kissing her on the forehead. "Be brave dear heart. God will see us all through this time."

"I believe you," Teresa answered, her chest heaving. She swallowed hard, refusing to cry again and turned to get into the limo. There would be time for tears when she was alone.

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"There she is!" Eddie said, pointing to a twelve-year-old girl who was standing in front of the church steps, holding hands with another girl.

She was dressed in a dark green dress and black tights, with black Mary Jane's and her eyes were rimmed with red. Patrick's heart stopped at the sight of her, she looked so small and so sad, he wanted to wrap her up in his arms until it didn't hurt anymore. He was about to cross the street to go to her when an older voice stopped him.

"You two cannot crash a funeral!"

"Dad!" Eddie said, looking flustered. "I'm sorry!"

"Son! Just don't! You both go to the car now, we'll discuss this later."

"Great," Eddie muttered. "Just great! I am in so much trouble!"

"Yes, you are!" Mr. Miller agreed following them to his rental car. You know better than to take a greyhound without saying anything to me and your mother first!"

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Dad, we're fifteen!"

"That isn't exactly a mature adult! Mature adults discuss their plans with other people before they go off and do something stupid!"

"It was my idea!" Patrick interjected. "I'm sorry Mr. Miller!"

"I'm sure. We'll discuss it when we get back to Florida though. Right now we have to get back to the airport to catch a flight to Orlando."

Patrick looked out the rear window to catch another wistful glimpse of Teresa. She was hugging a woman with red hair and nodding at something she had said. He put his hand on the window and sighed as she got further and further away from him.

When they were on the airplane, he got two sheets of paper and a pen from the stewardess. And while he sipped on Coke and ate airline pretzels, he wrote a letter to Teresa.

Dear Teresa,

By now, you probably think I've forgotten all about you or that I am trying to avoid you. That is not the case at all. I've been traveling; I took a greyhound to Chicago to see you. I wanted to be there for you, I was there. But Eddie's father came and reminded us that we shouldn't barge in on your funeral. So, this letter has to be the second best thing I can offer you.

I am thinking about you, always. I wish your mother was still alive and that life was always going to be the same for you. You of all people don't deserve for bad things to happen to you. Please know I am always here for you even though we are miles apart, if you ever need anything just tell me and I will try to give it to you. I promise. I'm not going anywhere.

I know I am usually good with words, but I cannot come up with any that you would want to hear right now. You have probably heard "I am so sorry" and "everything is going to be okay?" more times than you can count. So, I won't say anything else. I won't give you my deepest regrets, even though you do have them. And I will not say everything is going to be okay because I am sure right now you are trying to figure out how everything will ever be okay again.

I am here Teresa. All you need to do is put pen to paper and write to me. I will do my best to reply, I will do my best to be the shoulder you need to lean on when you are not strong.

Until next time.

Love,

Patrick

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Chicago

"I'm going out Teresa! Don't forget to lock the door when I leave!"

"Okay dad!" Teresa called back, knowing better than to argue with him, knowing better than to ask him to stay. The last time she had begged him to stay, she had to wear long sleeves for a week and it was still warm outside. People had asked her questions and she hadn't known how to answer them.

Her mother had always said she was a bad liar.

She reread Patrick's letter one more time before folding it up and tucking it into her hope chest. When she looked up from closing the lid, she saw Tommy looking at her.

"Is everything okay?" She asked.

"Daddy's gone again," Tommy said. "He's always gone now."

"I know," Teresa answered, going to him and wrapping her arms around him. "Daddy's just sad right now. Everything will be okay in a little while though."

"When?" Tommy whispered.

Teresa shrugged. "I don't know it might take a while. But I'm sure everything is going to be okay eventually. It has to be."

Dear Patrick,

Thank you for your letter. I was afraid that you had forgotten all about me. Especially when all the sympathy cards and flowers started to come in and there wasn't anything from you. Thank you for coming all this way and trying to see me, it means a lot to me. Even if we actually didn't see each other face-to-face, you thought about coming and that is all that counts. I just hope you didn't get into too much trouble.

My mother has been buried for a week today. It was a beautiful funeral. Her best friend, Maeve sang the Last Rose of Summer and my Uncle Joe read her eulogy. The whole church was covered in her favorite flowers. And before they lowered her into the ground at the cemetery, my father threw himself on her coffin and begged them to bury him with her.

He's not doing well. I am worried about him, he's been working long hours at the fire station and staying out even later. We barely see him, last week I asked him not to go out because we need him here, but. . . but he got upset with me. I don't think he knows what to do without my mother. She was his rock. His shoulder to cry on when he had to pull a little kid's body out of the river or cut a dying family out of their car. I am trying to be there for him, but my mother's shoes are big ones to fill. I don't think I'll ever be her.

Tonight, I lied to my brother. I told him everything was going to be okay eventually. But in my heart, I know it isn't true. My mother is gone and nothing is going to ever be the same again. Right now when we need our father the most, he is separating himself from us.

Maeve told me to be brave. And I am pretending to be because I think if I don't, I'm going to fall apart and be the scared little girl I'm supposed to be.

Love,

Teresa

TBC. . .

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Author's Note:

I will not say how crazy things are around here because it goes without saying. I hope you guys liked this chapter, even though there was a significant time jump and it was slightly sadder than the first six, I had always planned on doing this. For a second, I considered not having Lisbon's mom die and then I decided to keep it really canon. Please leave your thoughts in the box below. I am looking forward to hearing from you.

Love,

Holly, 9/26/2014_