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Southbound Ch. 15-16

By: coaster2



Originally edited by ErikThread and DaveT with my thanks.  I have since massaged it somewhat, so any errors are mine alone.

*****

Chapter 15 Without a Hitch

"Good morning, Mr. Andrews, it's Oren Kavanagh. I thought you should know that I had a call from a Mr. Brant Morrisey in Los Angeles, representing Messers Ventriss. He has assured me that they will forthwith cease to spread 'misinformation' as he called it, about Flex-Tek. Will that be to your satisfaction?"

"Only if he puts it in writing," I said. "I want a copy of it to circulate to anyone who they have been in contact with." 

"Goes without saying, Mr. Andrews. I'll make sure the statement meets our needs and forward a copy directly to you."

"Thanks, and it's Andy, Oren. I think we've done enough business together now to be on a first name basis."

"Yes, of course. I hope this ends your problems, Andy."

"Me too. I think the letter will help if we run into any doubting customers."

I called Leo and let him know what had transpired. He was pleased that it was handled well and that we got the result we wanted.

By the end of May, all of the new equipment was installed and operational. We hadn't yet reached optimum performance on the new pouch machine, but that was to be expected. It was a very complex piece of equipment and it had to be set up exactly right for the film to form the pouch correctly at the speeds we were expecting. Nonetheless, we were producing good product and had taken a big load off Langley at the same time.

"East Bay is still having problems setting the filter inside the Keurig cup," Fiona reported. "Our press and slitter are waiting to produce more product, but our customer is having a technical problem that's holding back their production."

"Can I make a suggestion?" I asked. "Ask Grant if we could have Wick look at the machine. He's good at problem solving. He may be able to help them. We could take the video camera over there and see what's really going on with it."

"Great! I'll call Maureen right away. Are you sure it's okay with Wick?"

"Yeah... pretty sure. I'll talk to him. Getting him away from the pouch machine would probably be a good idea right now."

In fact, Wick was happy to be helping a customer. A short while later, I had a call back from Fiona.

"That was quick," I said. "Grant's okay with us getting involved?"

"More than okay. He was beginning to think it wasn't going to get solved. He'll take any help he can get. What about Wick?"

"I was right. It'll be a relief to get off the pouch machine for a while. You arrange for the timing and he'll be there."

Fiona led Wick to East Bay later that afternoon. She was late for supper that night. Tina and I were on our own. My fiancée didn't show up until nearly ten o'clock, looking tired.

"So... what happened?" I asked as she came into the kitchen.

"I think Wick's got if figured out. By tomorrow morning we'll start up and see if the filters seat themselves properly. That was the main problem and so all our efforts were in that direction. Mind you, we spilled a lot of coffee on the plant floor getting to that point," she grinned. 

"Okay, make sure you keep Grant informed."

"No problem with that. He was there with us all the way. I think we got some serious brownie points today."

"Well, let's keep our fingers crossed that Wick's got it solved."

"Have you done this before? I mean, lending our people out to help customers with their equipment?"

"Sure. It's all part of the service. There are some things we can't help with, but any time we can be of use, we try and make the service available."

She looked at me and shook her head. "Damn that's good to hear. We can't miss, Andy. We just can't."

Wick and Fiona were back in our plant the next afternoon. I knew they were coming because I had a very nice phone call from Grant Loren telling me that they were now in production on the coffee pods and Flex-Tek was the reason. He thanked me for making Wick available and for going the extra mile. Those are the kind of phone calls I'll take any day of the week.

We had heard no more from the Ventriss family and we had the letter from their lawyer outlining the agreement to cease and desist. Nothing was coming back from the customers, so we assumed that little exercise in harassment was over.

That evening, Fiona walked into the kitchen, took a large, red marker pen, flipped the calendar to July, and circled the 14th. She turned to me.

"See that? That's our big day. West Langley United Church. Don't be late," she laughed.

"So... after all the discussion, it's finally decided when we get married. Hallelujah!" I cried in celebration, folding Fiona into my arms.

"What about the reception?" I asked.

"Taken care of. Leo insisted."

"Leo? Wow, that's a surprise." Leo and Bernice lived on acreage south near the U.S. border. A large two storey home with and huge back deck and grassed area. It was ideal for the reception.

"Not according to Bernice. She said he's strutting around like a rooster, telling everyone how smart he was to put you in charge of Tracy."

"You've been talking to Bernice?"

"I have. She's the chief hen in the henhouse. I told you, I'm marrying into royalty." 

I shook my head in disbelief. It seemed impossible that it had been barely six months since we had met and I had been lassoed like a lonesome steer. A few months of the single life and I was already destined for domestic life once more. There was a difference, however. I was going willingly, without hesitation, happily.

"I've made the plane reservations for the five of us," she said. "We go from Oakland to Seattle, then to Vancouver. Okay?"

"Sure. Where are we staying?" I asked.

"You will stay at your parents' place. My parents, Tina and I will stay at Leo and Bernice's home." 

"This is all arranged, is it?" I asked, wondering why I hadn't heard anything about this.

"What do you think our mothers and Bernice have been doing for the last month? You just sit back and let us handle it, dear. I'm sure you'll be happy with the way everything turns out," she said with an air of confidence.

"So, I don't get to sleep with you until we're married, is that it?"

"You can handle a couple of nights on your own, big boy. Just remember, I'm being deprived too."

"Okie dokie," I said with a decided lack of enthusiasm.

Fiona made sure I knew what I was going to be missing later that evening. 

~***~

"There's a Mr. Simon Rheinstad to see you, Andy," Donna announced over the intercom. "He's from the INS."

I had a brief moment when I wondered what we might have done wrong, but nothing came to mind. I got up and went out to the reception area.

"Mr. Rheinstad?"

"Yes, and you are Gordon Andrews, General Manager of this plant?"

"That right. How can I help you?"

"I have a federal authorization to check you employee files and interview some of your employees regarding their citizenship status."

"I don't understand. All the documentation on our employees has been filed with your office as recently as April. What has changed?"

"We received some information that there may be illegal immigrants working in your plant. We are duty bound to investigate the allegation," he said in an officious tone.

"May I ask who gave you that information?"

"No. Under the whistle blower act, we cannot divulge the identity of the person or persons."

"Well, nothing has changed since we last filed the report, so I'll have that file brought to you."

"Thank you. I appreciate you cooperation."

Donna pulled the file and handed it to me and I took it to Rheinstad. I showed him to a small open office and left him to peruse our file. I was worried, but I wasn't sure about what.

Donna offered him a coffee but he declined with thanks. An hour later he came out of the office and handed the file back to me.

"I don't see anything out of order here. I'd like to spend some time on the plant floor and talk to some of the employees. Who can help me with that?"

"I'll ask our plant manager, Bobby Lee Turpin, to do that. I'll have him paged."

Ten minutes later a surprised Bobby Lee guided Mr. Rheinstad to the production floor after having him don a hair net and smock. It was mandated apparel for all visitors and staff.

It was almost lunch time when the two reappeared in the office and I saw Rheinstad shake Bobby Lee's hand and thank him. That was a good sign in my book.

"I don't know why anyone filed that complaint, Mr. Andrews, but I can find no evidence that your employees and your employment records are not completely in compliance with the act. I will write a formal report closing this file and rejecting the complaint. Thank you again for you cooperation."

"You're welcome," I said, wondering what the hell had just happened.

I sat at my desk thinking about who might have thought we were using illegal immigrants in our plant. Then it hit me: Rod and/or Rob Ventriss. The whistle-blower legislation prevented their names from being revealed, so they could make these accusations without fear of discovery. I picked up the phone and left a message for Oren Kavanagh.

I had a talk with Bobby Lee and let him know that there was nothing to worry about after the INS inspection.

"Ah dohn spose thay would be. I bin though this b'foe an I know wut thay lookin' fo. We dohn have illegals here and we ain't gunna have none neither."

Bobby Lee's accent had become more pronounced, telling me he was agitated by the visit and the accusation. 

"Calm down, Bobby Lee. I have a feeling this is right out of the Ventriss dirty tricks bag. I've got a call in for our lawyer and I'll see if I can find out if it's them. If it is, we'll sue their sorry ass," I spat.

That brought a big smile to Bobby Lee, despite the fact that he had never laid eyes on either Ventriss. He knew of them by reputation from the other plant people.

Oren couldn't think of any way to find out if the Ventrisses had filed the accusation with the INS. It was a federal government department and worked to a hard and fast set of rules. We would just have to be satisfied that we had passed and could expect no further trouble from them.

A week later, we had a call from the California Environmental Protection Agency requesting a meeting that same afternoon. I wasn't about to say no, but I alerted Bobby Lee and Wick that they were coming. I was getting the distinct feeling that we were a target for someone, and that someone was named Ventriss.

"Mr. Pride is here to see you, Andy," Donna announced.

I walked out to the reception area and welcomed Mr. Richard Pride, Field Inspection Department, California Environmental Protection Agency.

"How can I help you, Mr. Pride?"

"We've had a report that your firm has an unsecured hazardous materials area. I will need to inspect the plant to determine what remedies need to be taken."

"Your department has already inspected our plant in early March and found us to be well within your guidelines. However, we will certainly cooperate with you. I doubt you'll find anything out of order," I said, a tinge of anger in my voice. "Can I ask who filed this complaint?" 

"I'm not a liberty to disclose that, Mr. Andrews. All complainants' identities are kept confidential."

"I understand, but I do have a question when you finish your inspection. Please come and see me before you leave."

"Certainly," he agreed, as we waited once more for Bobby Lee to conduct the tour.

Oren Kavanagh had made a worthwhile suggestion when we discussed the possibility that the INS inspection was provoked by the Ventriss men. I waited impatiently for Mr. Pride to return.

It must have been a thorough inspection because it was almost two hours later that Bobby Lee and Richard Pride returned to my office. As had been the case with the INS, I saw the inspector thank our man for his help. 

"Can I assume you found everything in order?" I asked.

"Yes. There is absolutely no substance to the complaint. You are in complete conformance in your storage and use of hazardous materials."

"I know you can't tell us the name of the person... or persons... who filed the complaint, but I do have a question. What if you learned that the person... or persons... filing the complaint was doing it as a method of harassment?"

"We'd take that very seriously, I assure you. It is difficult to prove, but our resources are limited and being sent off on a wild goose chase is very frustrating. This inspection was a waste of both your and my time."

I reached down into my bottom desk drawer and pulled out a piece of paper.

"This is a copy of a letter from a Los Angeles law firm stating that the named individuals in this letter will cease and desist spreading misinformation about our firm. You might want to know if the named individuals were the same as those who filed the complaint."

Mr. Pride scanned the letter and I saw his eyes widen as he read it. I suspected he recognized the names.

"Leave this with me, Mr. Andrews. May I keep this?"

I nodded. "Certainly."

"My apologies for disturbing your day, but I suspect we might be able to put an end to this... problem. Thank you again for alerting us to this situation. I assure you, we will take action."

"Thank you, Mr. Pride. I'm pleased you found everything as it should be."

When I saw our visitor drive out of the parking lot, I punched in Oren's phone number and left a message. I was sure he'd call me back. Sure enough, ten minutes later he was on the line.

"So... did our strategy work?" Oren asked, coming right to the point.

"Better than we guessed. If I'm any good at reading facial expression, he recognized the Ventriss name and I saw him stiffen when he realized he was being used. If I were him, I wouldn't play poker."

"I think your troublesome family is going to go away now. I doubt a state agency is going to be happy about their little game. I wonder who else they might have called?"

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see. I hope that's the end of it."

"Let me know if it continues. We may file suit anyway, just to harass them."

"I just want it to go away, Oren. I've got a lot on my plate right now, and I don't need the aggravation."

"Understood. Good luck and stay in touch."

I sat back once more, wondering if it really was over with.

~***~

I hired Tina as an intern/gopher for the summer. The pay was small, but she was happy to have a job and what she did earn gave her money that didn't come from her mother's pocket. I didn't need to worry about her getting along with the staff. Her personality made that a foregone conclusion. 

She would be a senior in high school next fall and I thought at some point she might need her own transportation when she graduated. She hadn't decided on which college she would attend, despite her mother assuring her that within reason, cost would not be an issue.

Our wedding would be one month after she was out of school for the summer. Tina was looking forward to going back to Vancouver and spending a few days with my family.

Chapter 16 Church Bells

You've probably heard the phrase about weddings going off without a hitch? Well, not ours. Let me see if I can catalogue all the hitches.

First, the flight from Oakland to Seattle was delayed when our plane had a mechanical problem, causing us to miss our connection. As a consequence, we didn't arrive in Vancouver until late Wednesday evening, exhausted from sitting around and worrying about when we would actually get there. Thank goodness for cell phones. We were able to warn the reception party and prevent them from hours of hanging around the Vancouver airport waiting for us to arrive.

Second, one piece of luggage was missing when we finally got to Vancouver. Naturally, it was the one with my tuxedo, not to mention my toiletries and other apparel. The luggage was found in the unclaimed area in SeaTac airport and we finally got it delivered late the following afternoon.

Third, on the day of the wedding, the limousine that was to bring Fiona, her mother and my parents got lost and was a half-hour late picking them up. Phil, Leo, Dad, Angus, Neal and I stood around tapping our toes waiting for the big moment. I could see Reverend Ames looking at his watch, wondering if he was going to have to delay the next wedding, scheduled not long after ours. At least cell phone communications let us know of the problem and we didn't worry unnecessarily that Fiona had suffered a change of heart.

Fourth, someone had left the outer doors open to the vestry and as the service neared its end, we began to have people peering into the church, wondering what was going on. Naturally, the giant wooden doors creaked noisily whenever they were opened, disturbing the ceremony. It would have been funny if everyone wasn't so uptight with all the delays.

As a final finishing touch to this comedy of errors, the limousine driver wasn't able to park near the church because the party for next wedding had taken up all the temporary spots. The entire wedding party had to walk almost a block to get to our transportation. 

I should have been upset, I suppose, but it was such a bizarre set of circumstances that it was hard to be angry. I stopped halfway to the limousine and turned to Fiona.

"Do you believe this? Can you imagine anything like this happening?"

I could see the smile on Fiona's face and within seconds we were laughing. I pulled her into me and kissed her right in the middle of her outburst. It was a deep, passionate kiss and far more sensual than the light peck we shared at the altar. We were man and wife and that was all that mattered.

Our laughter seemed to be contagious as my father, Fiona's mother and father, Bernice and several of the guests were now laughing at the entire debacle. We ultimately made it to the Cornell home and the party began. I think the main topic of conversation was the whole crazy afternoon. The phrase "without a hitch" became the trigger to elicit more laughter and stories about wedding party bungles. It seemed after listening to a few, weddings without a hitch were much less frequent than we were led to believe.

Our brief mini-honeymoon was celebrated at a lovely riverside lodge just east of Mission on the north side of the Fraser River. It was warm and generally sunny, happily not raining as that would have put the frosting on the cake as far as the day went. But Fiona and I were fine. We were where we wanted to be, in each other's arms. 

I can't say I felt any different married than single, except it was that secure sensation that comes with knowing the anticipation had ended and we were together for the rest of our lives. I never had a doubt in my mind that I had found the woman I wanted to fill that role. That she was a valuable asset in our business was just a bonus.

We flew back to Oakland and this time the flight and the luggage arrived on schedule. I drove Fiona's parents home before we headed to ours. I thought that Tina had been unusually quiet since the wedding. I wondered what, if anything, might be bothering her. I chose not to raise the issue, hoping she would return to her usual bubbling self in a day or so. That turned out to be the case.

Tina had now confirmed that I was "Dad" and that was how she chose to address me. I recounted the conversation after our engagement I had with her to Fiona. I was happy that she didn't have any objection to her daughter's choice of titles. Besides, I was proud to call Tina my daughter. She was a lively, bright, beautiful young woman and made her parents and grandmother proud of her.

Tina had her own laptop and I discovered she had Skype loaded on it and was using that and Facebook to communicate with her friends. It was a hell of a lot cheaper than the current cell phone rates. It was a couple of weeks after we had returned from Canada that I went up to see her about how she was enjoying her job as an intern at our office. Her door was partly open and I knocked lightly before entering. 


Southbound Ch. 15-16



She was on Skype at the time and was talking to... Phil. That caught me by surprise.

"Hi, Phil," I called. I assumed he could see me.

"Hi, Dad," he answered immediately, looking a bit uncomfortable.

"How are you?"

"Fine. I'm good. Just talking to Tina and catching up on the news."

"Good. Anything happening in your world?" I asked.

"Nothing special. I'm still working at Williams Auto Supply. I'll be registering at Douglas College in a couple of weeks."

"Good for you. Glad to hear it. Do you need anything from me?"

"Nope, I'm good, Dad. Mom's good too. Everything's fine here."

I knew it was a signal he wanted me to leave, so I said goodbye and went back downstairs. It was good to see the two of them talking. Tina would probably check in with me later.

"What's happening?" Fiona asked absently, curled up on the sofa and watching TV.

"I went up to ask Tina about her job, but she was on Skype with Phil."

"Oh."

"You don't sound surprised."

"No... they get along quite well and have become friends. They are almost the same age, so it's no surprise," Fiona said as she continued to watch TV.

That was the end of our in-depth conversation, but I was pleased that our son and daughter had seemingly become good friends and were talking to each other. I took it as a positive sign. Both of them were outgoing personalities, so it wasn't surprising that they might have a lot in common. I wished Phil's brother was a little more sociable. We seldom heard from him.

It got pretty darn warm in our part of Alameda County in the summer. A lot warmer than I was used to in Canada. The average temperature in July and August was 90+, while September was very little cooler. The locals were accustomed to it and seldom commented on it. Bobby Lee and his family thought it was far nicer than the same temperature in Louisiana, thanks to the much lower humidity. They can say what they like, it was hot. Thank goodness for air conditioning.

Fiona and I continued to play the Las Positas course, choosing to play nine holes early in the morning to avoid the heat. If we teed off by six-thirty, we would be done and home before nine and in the office before ten. We played every second week so as not to cut into the business day too greatly. 

We discovered that a loosely organized "businessman's club" was playing on Thursday morning and they had no problem with a woman being included. We got to meet a number of people we would otherwise never have met and made some new friends while we enjoyed an early round of golf. It was the beginning of my search for new friends outside our business associates.

We settled into domestic life quite nicely. I was still very much occupied with making sure we had the plant running well and producing good product on time. Fiona was totally focused on sales and the results confirmed her skills. By the end of August, we were solidly ahead of expectations and I could see our planning session for the following year would be dedicated to what further equipment we would need and when we would need it. All the indications said we were going to be the success we had envisioned.

I had to visit Langley for some financial review meetings the week before Labour Day. The meetings were a precursor to our developing the business plan for the following year. Fiona would stay behind since I would only be gone three days. It would give me the opportunity to visit my parents and see Phil and Neal as well. 

I was surprised when I walked out of the customs area in Vancouver to find both Phil and Neal waiting for me. I don't know how they found out I was coming on this flight, but they did.

"Hi guys, how are you?" I smiled before noticing the grim look on both their faces.

"Hi, Dad," Neal said, hugging me. That was unusual. He was more of a handshake guy. I got a hug from Phil too, and realized that this wasn't a happy meeting.

"What up?" I asked, looking at both of them.

"It's Mom," Neal said solemnly. "She's sick. She has cancer."

"Oh," was all I managed as the air went out of me. "What's the situation?"

"She has brain cancer, Dad. It's inoperable," Neal said sadly.

At that point, Phil broke down and began to cry. Big, heaving sobs as I moved to him and held him tightly to me. I wasn't far from tears myself. 

"How long have you known?" I asked, wondering if it really mattered.

"Since yesterday," Neal reported. "She's had some... episodes. Disoriented, speech problems, forgetful," 

"How long has it been going on?"

"I don't know, Dad. It can't be that long or Phil would have noticed. But... she called us together last night and told us. She isn't going to get better, Dad. We're going to lose her."

"Oh, God," I moaned, "I'm so sorry. Let's go home and we can talk about it some more."

It was a silent ride to Langley, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I drove directly to my former home. I wasn't going to stand back and watch this happen. I was going to be involved, one way or another. The boys would need me, particularly now and especially Phil.

We entered the house and I saw Carla sitting in her usual chair. She looked up slowly at me and tried to smile. It was a cock-eyed effort. It seemed some of her facial muscles weren't working well. How could this have happened so quickly? It was only six weeks ago that I was here and she was fine. Or was she?

"Hello, Carla. I'd ask you how you are, but they've already told me the news."

She nodded slowly. "Yes... it isn't what I expected to happen, Andy," she said, her voice slightly slurred. "Boys... would you excuse us please. I'd like to talk to your father in private."

Neal led Phil out of the living room and off toward the upstairs bedrooms. There was a tomb-like silence in the room. I was completely unprepared for this and had no idea what to say or do.

"I've had a suspicion for a while that something wasn't quite right with me, Andy," she said slowly and deliberately. "It started before you came to visit me in July. Unfortunately, I didn't do anything about it until recently when the symptoms became worse. My doctor tells me it wouldn't have made any difference. The tumour was too far advanced to be operable. 

"We need to talk about what comes next," she said after a pause. "Philip is very upset, you know. We are very close. Neal will be hurting too, but he'll recover sooner. He's like that. Very durable. I haven't told Ruth yet, but I think she suspects something. I wonder if you could bring her here tomorrow evening and I can let her know."

I nodded, unable to speak. 

"How long?" I finally had the courage to ask.

She slowly shook her head. "Two weeks, a month... no more. It probably won't kill me right away, but I'll be completely unable to function. They will have to put me into palliative care for however long I last."

I could feel the tears trickling down my cheeks. 

"You need to take Phil with you, Andy. He can't stay here on his own. He needs you and your new family around him."

"Your parents? Do they know?"

She shook her head, again very slowly. "No. I think I'll ask Ruth to tell them. I don't know if I can.

"Andy, I'm getting all my affairs in order, just as the doctor suggested. You will need to sell the house and the furnishings as well, I suppose. Neal will be named executor and my lawyer assures me it won't be an onerous task. I'm sorry to dump this all on you, but I can't see Phil going with anyone else.

"I'll probably be taken back to the hospital in a week or so, but I'm not sure when. Phil won't be able to handle taking care of me and neither will Ruth or my parents. Besides, I wouldn't wish that on any of them. It's better I should be where they can do what's necessary to keep me comfortable."

"I'm sorry, Carla. I'm so sorry it has turned out this way for you. You don't deserve this. No one does."

"I'm not afraid of dying, Andy. I thought I would be, but I'm not. I just drew the unlucky card. There's nothing I can do about it except to say goodbye to my family and friends."

I stayed at the house than night, foregoing the hotel I had booked. It seemed important that I did. It was a solemn meal with little conversation. Carla hardly ate more than a mouthful and the rest of us not much more. I went up to the guest room and called Fiona and told her what was going on.

We talked for an hour and my new bride encouraged me to stay as long as necessary and not worry about her and Tina. I told her about Carla's wish that we take Phil in and she immediately agreed. He would be very welcome in our home.

I called Leo at his home and spent another half-hour on the phone explaining what was happening. He was deeply affected by it. He considered the people who worked for him family, and Carla was still one of them. He deferred the meetings until further notice, stating this was far more important to me and to my family.

My stay in Langley was mercifully short. Carla's condition deteriorated almost before our eyes. She was taken into Langley Memorial's palliative care facility and never came out. The last person to see her alive was Phil. Her suffering was mercifully short just as her life had been cut mercilessly short. I grieved for her. I grieved for what we had and what we had lost. I had loved her, at least for most of our life together.

I went home to Livermore when she was taken into care, taking Phil with me. We were greeted at the airport by a solemn and silent pair, Fiona and Tina. Fiona held me close while Tina did the same for Phil. 

We got Phil settled in the third bedroom and allowed him to find his way. We knew it wouldn't be long before we would by flying back to Langley and the services for Carla. It was the end of September when Carla finally took her last breath. Phil and I flew back to Vancouver and Neal met us, taking us to our former home. 

I talked to her doctor about how it was she went so quickly. He simply said her brain shut down and ceased to allow her to live. All her other organs followed. He said she likely did not feel any pain... or for that matter, anything at all. The tumour was the size of a half-grapefruit and had been there for quite some time. She simply didn't know it. 

The funeral service was held three days later, ninety days after she had been diagnosed. That seemed an impossibly short time to me. I decided to ask some questions and contacted a friend who was a doctor. He said it was unusual, but not unheard of. That she was unaware of it was not uncommon, and to have such a dramatically rapid effect on her wasn't rare. He couldn't see anything that might have been done to save Carla. 

Ruth took it very stoically. She was saddened and frustrated that she had so little time to say goodbye to her sister. We spent a couple of evenings together, remembering the good times. She agreed completely that the best thing for Phil was to come to California with me. 

Ruth and Carla's parents were devastated and couldn't come to terms with how quickly this had all happened. They thought at first that Carla had withheld her condition from them, but Ruth and I convinced them that it was not so. Still, they were deeply hurt by the loss of their youngest daughter. It wouldn't help that Phil was moving away as well, but I assured them that it was best for him and we promised they would see him as often as possible.

As I stood by the gravesite while the minister finished his intonation, I looked down into the grave that had been dug for my late wife. It struck me that life wasn't fair. All Carla wanted was a better life than I had been able to give her. She did nothing wrong. She didn't deserve this to happen to her. No... it was not fair. The church bells rang and I dropped the single white rose on the coffin as it was lowered.

We put the house up for sale and began the laborious process of clearing out all the things we had collected over the past twenty-three years. Phil found some things that he wanted to keep as mementos of his mother, while Neal took some of the furniture for the apartment he had rented. He was tired of living in the campus quarters and had partnered with two other students to rent an apartment not far from the campus.

I salvaged the photo albums and other items I wanted to keep, while Ruth and her parents found a number of things they would keep. The rest would go to the charity shop or in the hastily organized yard sale. When all of it was disposed of, one way or another, I gave Neal power of attorney to sell the house. We had quite a bit of equity and I would make sure that it was distributed equally to the boys and Ruth. 

It was a week later when Phil and I walked off the plane and into the Oakland baggage claim area. Fiona and Tina were there to greet us again. A few words of greeting were exchanged quietly as we waited for our luggage. It was good to home again. Yes... this was home now. 

To Be Continued