Coming Face to Face With The Past

[REBECCA TAYLOR]

Rebecca had spent years blocking out her childhood. It had been painful to remember what she had, what she could have had, and the guilt of not being there when her family perished. She'd spent years wishing she'd been in that house with them, another tragedy, if only to escape the years of pain and loneliness that followed. She'd dealt with the trauma all wrong, but what could you expect from a child? A child who didn't have access to anyone able to teach her the correct ways to grieve, to coach her through the most horrific time in her life. Maxi had done a decent job, and in the end she'd been Rebecca's saving grace, but there was that window before that which had left a lasting impression on Rebecca. The downward spiral she'd gone on after her parents death. The years that followed of pushing everyone away other than Maxi. That is until Jack and now Sophie.

The therapy sessions were intense. They didn't start that way, honestly. The first two weeks she spent getting to know the therapist, and the woman getting a blueprint of Rebecca's life. She was a tough case, and Rebecca tried to be cooperative. She went three times a week for now, a hefty suggestion from the therapist, considering how much they needed to cover and how, apparently, deep the wounds ran. The deeper the therapist probed though, the harder it hit Rebecca. When it should have been a relief to get things off her chest, it brought back old memories and made her feel frightened and vulnerable all over again. The dust was being kicked up and she was recalling things she'd hidden from herself for so long; thoughts and feelings.. Her work began to suffer, unable to pay attention to what she was doing and twice already the captain had spoken with her about her performance. She'd pulled away from Maxi and Sophie, avoiding phone calls and text messages. By the end of the day she felt drained simply by being awake and her therapist in turn placed her on anti depressants. Jack was the only thing keeping her afloat during that first hard month of treatment. She often came home from sessions and curled up with him, surprised at how desperately she just wanted to be held, like a child. She refused to talk about the sessions, opting to simply lose herself in the television, but she seldom saw whatever was on the screen, and more often than not fell asleep against her boyfriend hours before she really needed to go to bed.

By the end of the second month the medication was kicking in and Rebecca was starting to feel more like herself. With most of her history out on the table, her sessions were bumped down to twice a week and she resumed her relationships with the women in her life, lying and explaining how work had been chaotic. Jack was kind enough to play along for her and she had a feeling it was because he was glad she was acting more like herself than the pathetic zombie she'd temporarily turned into.

It was during one of the later sessions that Amy, the therapist, suggested Rebecca go see her parents. She immediately turned the suggestion down, but Amy insisted it might be helpful for Rebecca to talk to them, see their headstones, tell them how much she missed them and all that she'd accomplished. Talk to Sam and do the same. She'd refused coldly, but Amy brought it up again and again. It would be "healing" to go. Rebecca wasn't entirely sure where the graves even were other than they were at the Hildon cemetary, but Amy assured her it wouldn't be difficult to find. She could bring Jack. She should bring Jack. The thought seemed stupid, but when she brought it up in passing that evening Jack was on board with the idea. In fact, he wanted to go, and that ended the discussion. If Jack wanted to go and wanted her to go, then she would go. She'd given up fighting with Jack, becoming dependent on his happiness in their relationship and desperate to please him. She knew it wasn't healthy, Amy had told her that, but it was an issue they would have to tackle later. For now it was her dependence on Jack that kept her stable.

Rebecca felt ill when she woke. She felt like if she didn't eat she would barf, and if she ate, she'd probably also barf. Facing her past like this, so literally, frightened her to no end. If Jack weren't coming, she wouldn't be able to go, though the thought of him being a part of her history like that bothered her on some level. Jack didn't belong in that part of her life. Jack was her present, they were her past and in her mind there was a clear divide. She liked them being separate, which according to Amy was a problem. How could she open up to him without him knowing all of her? Jack literally pulled her out of bed kicking and screaming, and by the time they were done their shower she felt a little better. A shower with Jack could do that to a woman. They dressed warmly and stopped for flowers and breakfast on the way. The cematary was only about thirty minutes outside the city, but she got the impression that Jack was trying to make this a nice day, as if stopping to see her dead parents was a casual affair. She supposed to many, Jack included, it was. Hell, she wouldn't be surprised if he stopped to see his father while they were there.

"I don't want you to come with me." She insisted as he fished into his wallet for his card to pay for breakfast. "It would be weird." Sea colored eyes probing her boyfriend as he sat across from her. "Like.. to the graves. Obviously you're coming with me. You know what I mean.." She gulped, pursing her lips and glowering down into her half drunk mug of coffee. She didn't want him to see her break down like that. Not ever.

[JACK ROCCOGRANDI]

It had been a hard two months for Rebecca and Jack. Granted, she was the one going through therapy, but he was there to reassemble her when those sessions were over. Three nights a week for a month and Jack could count on Rebecca simply wanting to cuddle on the couch when she got home. He was happy to oblige, loving that he was now her greatest source of comfort. Sure, he’d been that for at least a year, but it was more prominent now. He just wished the painful part of her therapy would be over soon and she could start adjusting to her antidepressants. Throughout all of this, he knew his best quality would be his patience. Rebecca needed someone to support her through all of this and Jack was determined to do just that. When she needed space, he gave it to her. More often, though, she needed someone to hold her—and he had two good arms to wrap her in. He made sure she got to work and got out of the house at least one day out of the weekend, even when Rebecca felt like staying in bed all day. It was hard to make a stubborn woman like Rebecca do anything, yet he found ways to convince her. At the end of the first month, he started to see that all of this work was really paying off.

He was relieved to see Rebecca finally improving. Her work got back on track, as did her schedule, and Jack kept the source of her struggle secret. Maxi and Sophie were worried, but he played along with Rebecca’s white lie that everything was just crazy at work. She would tell them about her therapy when she was ready for it. Jack wasn’t expecting to be a part of her therapy until Amy, the therapist, made a suggestion for Rebecca’s treatment: a visit to Hildon Cemetery. Amy believed it would help Rebecca to unite Jack and her family as a way of bringing together her past and present. Jack thought it was a great idea—Rebecca vehemently disagreed. It took a while to convince her to consent to the event and even longer for her to pick a Saturday morning to do it. Jack offered to take her by his father’s grave so she would have an opportunity to meet him in return. He couldn’t deny that he wanted to meet her family, even if all he was really meeting were headstones. It was what remained of the happiest time in Rebecca’s life. Maybe it was painful for her to introduce him to that part of her, but Jack felt he needed to know that part of her. If this was the woman he would spend the rest of his life with, then he wanted to know every part of her, even the dark parts. And he wanted her to know every part of him, including where his father lay peacefully in the ground.

The morning of their outing was difficult. Rebecca literally kicked and screamed until Jack hauled her out of bed and slung her over his shoulder. He took her to the bathroom where they showered and Jack had a chance to soothe at least some of her anxiety. They stopped for flowers and then breakfast, dressed warmly in dark clothes. As he fished for his card in his wallet, ready to pay for their food and head out, Rebecca caught his attention. “I don’t want you to come with me. It would be weird.” Jack furrowed his brow and gave her a curious and apprehensive look as he produced his card. What was the point of going to the cemetery if she wouldn’t let him go with her? “Like…to the graves. Obviously you’re coming with me. You know what I mean…” She was giving her coffee a look it didn’t deserve and Jack frowned at her. “Becca, the point of this is to bring together your past and present. It won’t do much good if I don’t actually see their graves.” She didn’t like him pointing this out, but he persisted. “How about we stop together at your family’s graves and then I’ll let you have some time alone with them while I go to visit my dad? You can come find me when you’re done visiting with your folks.” He knew she was most concerned with him seeing her break down. He’d seen it before, but he was sure it would be different with her family. As long as she had her time alone with them, he felt Rebecca might agree to his meeting her folks. “What do you think?”

[REBECCA TAYLOR]

“Becca, the point of this is to bring together your past and present. It won’t do much good if I don’t actually see their graves.” She frowned further, not daring to look up at him. He wasn't supposed to throw that bit at her. That was Amy's job, after all. “How about we stop together at your family’s graves and then I’ll let you have some time alone with them while I go to visit my dad? You can come find me when you’re done visiting with your folks.” She shifted a little uneasily in the booth, still not daring to meet her boyfriends dark eyes, her brown brows still gently knit low over her sea colored eyes. “What do you think?” She supposed it was a compromise, and she knew no matter how hard she fought it wouldn't end well. Even if Jack conceded, it would be a huge battle and she wasn't entirely sure she could mentally handle fighting with the man the rest of the way to their destination, or the hours of silent treatment she would give following. It wasn't worth it, and she was still attempting to be a better partner, which meant not being so damn stubborn. But being stubborn was in her nature, so she accepted her defeat but wasn't happy about it. "Fine." She grumbled with a heavy sigh, pushing to the edge of the bench and looking up at him quickly, her eyes pulling away as their gaze met. "I'm going to the bathroom, I'll meet you out front."

Rebecca took her time in the bathroom gathering herself before finally making her way out to the front of the diner. She took her coat from Jack with a soft word of thanks before moving back out into the winter air, allowing Jack to put his arm around her back though she didn't make any move of a return gesture opting to keep her head low and her hands in her pockets to keep the wind from chilling her too much. She slid into the car easily and immediately looked out the window, accepting her unfair fate.

The rest of the ride was quiet, Jack kindly respecting her sulkiness even though he kept his hand on her knee. She didn't pull away, oddly comforted by the touch though she was still a little miffed that he was sticking to the plan despite her plea. She knew he was right which was why she wasn't truly angry, but that didn't mean she wouldn't brood like a teenager beside him. Finally they arrived and she felt her body instinctively tense. When was the last time she'd come? It had to be over two decades ago.. during the funeral.. twenty three years. She barely remembered it, but it still made the small hairs at the nape of her neck stand on end. Her fingers found his on her knee and slipped between them, her palm resting on the back of his hand as she held it. She held his hand tight, her knuckles almost white while biting her bottom lip, hurricane eyes outside as they drove up. She didn't want to do this, she wanted to go home. She nearly voiced her desires but knew Jack would insist it was too late to turn back, and he would be right. They were there. They had flowers.. She had to confront this part of her life sooner or later, she just wished it wasn't so hard. His soft words of comfort as he parked the car did little to calm her dread as she looked back at him, eyes pleading words she was too ashamed to say out loud. Please don't make me do this.. but either he didn't see or ignored it completely, climbing out of the car and coming to her own door at her hesitation. Jack opened it up for her and extending a hand which she hesitated, but finally, reluctantly, took. "Where are they?" She asked in a soft, sullen voice. He was supposed to look up their whereabouts, because she certainly wasn't going to.

[JACK ROCCOGRANDI]

Rebecca obviously didn’t like the sound of what Jack had to say, but he kept his eyes on her as she mulled it over. He was getting used to being firm with her. It was like getting in the mindset to discipline a really adorable kid. It took getting used to. “Fine.” He could be satisfied with that answer. She gave a heavy sigh and pushed her way to the edge of her bench. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll meet you out front.” He nodded and waved the waitress over for their check. She was quick to take his card and then return with a receipt for him to sign. He scrawled his vaguely recognizable signature and headed to the front of the diner with Rebecca’s coat in hand. It took some time for her to reappear and he began to wonder if she slipped out of the bathroom window to escape her fate. Thankfully he didn’t need to send in an employee to find her since she grudgingly made her way to his side. He gave her the coat slung over his arm and held the door for her as they left the diner. It was clear she wasn’t going to talk to him until they reached the graveyard, but he kept a comforting arm around her waist as they walked to the car. Just because she was mad at him didn’t mean he felt the same towards her.

Once they were on their way to the cemetery for real, Jack put his hand on Rebecca’s knee. She didn’t clasp it in her hand, but she didn’t push it away either. It was enough for him to know that she was just sulking—not actually angry at him. He contented himself with listening to the classic rock station as they wound their way to the edge of town. The cemetery was always such a peaceful place. Wind whispered through the stones almost constantly since it was on elevated ground from the rest of the city. He had always liked the cemetery because of that. But from the way Rebecca tensed beside him, she didn’t feel the same. That’s why he was there—to keep her steady. He was reminded of that as her hand finally slipped over his, their fingers weaving together. Once they were through the gate, he glanced at her hand holding his. Had he ever seen her knuckles so white? He crept his way through the cemetery road, finally coming to a stop at last not far from her family headstones. He’d gotten the information from the caretaker a few days ago. It was a pretty area, open but with a handful of ancient trees to guard the headstones and shade those resting beneath the earth. He looked to Rebecca and it took everything in him to climb out of the car despite her silent plea. If he thought it would do any small measure of good to let her abandon this and take her home, he would do it in a heartbeat. But this was the best thing for her. He had to keep reminding himself of that.

He came around the other side of the car and opened her door for her, giving her a hand that she reluctantly took. “Where are they?” she asked as she climbed out. The soft, sullen tone of her voice made it sound like she was headed towards her own death. “They’re just down that row.” He pointed a few rows down from where they were. They were near the end of the row in the shade of a particularly old oak tree. He didn’t know exactly where, but they were about to find out. He reached into the back of his Jeep and pulled out their flowers—one bouquet for her and one for him to take to his dad’s grave. The bouquet for her was placed in her hands before Jack gently placed his arm around her waist. “Come on…” he said softly. He was surprised she didn’t lock up like a stubborn mule as they drew closer to the row. It was silence between them because Jack feared he might incur her wrath if he said anything. Finally they made their way down the row, this time hand in hand. He scanned the headstones as they passed, looking for Taylor. And then he found them. Three neat, simple headstones all bearing the name Taylor. It was suddenly real to him—this was her family. The horror of Rebecca’s past was at his feet and beneath the ground he stood on. He knew she had no idea how tightly her hand was clasped around his. His eyes found her face with nothing less than sympathy and love. Wordlessly he slipped his hand from hers to wrap his arm around her shoulders tightly. There was nothing to say. All he could do was hold her until she didn't want him to anymore.

[REBECCA TAYLOR]

“They’re just down that row.” Her eyes moved to where he pointed, staring almost blankly as she waited for Jack. He gave her the flowers before sliding a hand around her waist and Rebecca felt like that arm was the only thing keeping her upright, though in reality it was not. “Come on…” She leaned into him as her feet moved, feeling as though she were in someone else's body. Her legs moved, though she didn't will them to. They simply went of their own accord as Jack pulled her along, flowers tight in her grip, sea colored eyes taking it all in. It was a cool, breezy morning, the grass beneath them a spongy damp carpet. Sparse patches of snow littered the ground as the moved.

Her mood had dulled some since they'd left the diner, not so much angry as morose. She didn't want to do this, she wasn't ready to face her demons. She was able to tell they were getting close, not entirely sure how. Perhaps it was intuition, or maybe a small part of her actually remembered the walk on that dreary day so very long ago. The ground had been damp that day as well if she recalled, the long wispy blades of grass making her stockings wet. She'd gotten blisters on her feet, not that she even cared then. Blisters had been the least of her worries.

As they turned into the row, his hand slipped down and clasped hers. She held tight, her heart aching as the tears already threatened. Don't you dare cry. She warned herself. It wasn't as if Jack hadn't seen her break down before. She hated how many times he'd seen her at her absolute worst, and though she knew it helped their bond grow stronger, she still hated being so completely, openly vulnerable in front of someone she demanded respect from. He'd never held it against her though, and she knew he never would. Still, for once she wished it wasn't she battling with herself, but him.

She saw them before he did, the three neat, neglected headstones. There were no flowers, no wreaths or rocks gracing the tops. They were bare. Naked. A pang of guilt resounded in her chest as she realized she had neglected them for so long. It wasn't fair that they had gotten no attention over the last two decades. Then again, it wasn't fair that she'd been left on her own as a child. Twice. Sometimes things just weren't fair.

Rebecca simply stared, tight lipped, almost forgetting Jack was even with her. His hand fell back into hers and she clasped it tightly as a plethora of emotions filled her. She didn't know exactly how to feel and she'd blocked those feelings for so long that it all muddled together into a strange sort of angry sadness. Her shoulders slumped, realizing how dearly she missed them. It was easy to forget now that she was an adult, but having had Jack around recently reminded her how nice it was to have the comfort of a warm body to nuzzle into when things simply didn't work out in your favor. A ear to listen, a shoulder to lean on, a hand to hold to give you strength to move on. They had been there for her as a girl. It wasn't their fault they were unable to continue to shelter her from her hard life. A life that led her to Jack.

A hand came to her shoulder instead, pulling her mind back and she looked briefly at him, feeling somewhat bashful. Rebecca took a deep breath and moved away from him, wishing she'd gotten more flowers. She knelt there by her mother, slowly pulling the bouquet apart. Half the flowers were laid by her father, the other half by her mother, a single rose to Sam. He wouldn't mind. Her eyes lingered on her brothers headstone, her nose tingling as the sharp sting of tears pushed at her eyelids. What would he be like now? How close would they have been? "He was so little.." Her voice was soft, her head bowed as her eyes slipped shut. Though not a baby, Sam had always been on the smaller side. Still, he'd been very young when he was killed. She didn't know how long Jack intended to stay with her, and further she didn't know what she was supposed to do now. Talk to them? Say all those pent up things she'd wished she always could? It wouldn't make any difference now. "What am I supposed to do?" She asked like a lost child, unsure what she was meant to do as she sat there on the cool, damp ground, her knees moistening. She hardly even noticed.

[JACK ROCCOGRANDI]

Jack looked down at Rebecca as she turned her eyes up to his. He knew his touch had pulled her from her thoughts and he almost felt sorry for it. She needed to be in those thoughts to make this experiment work. But she would work through this in her own way, which is why he let her go when she knelt before the graves. She picked apart the bouquet, putting half of the flowers on each of her parents’ graves, leaving a single rose on her brother’s. And for a long moment, she simply stayed kneeling in the grass. Her eyes were fixed on Sam’s headstone and even without seeing her face he knew those eyes were welling with tears. “He was so little…” She bowed her head and Jack had to keep from scooping her up in his arms and taking her back home. Instead, he focused on the dates listed on Sam’s headstone. He really was so young when he died. Only eleven—he would have been terrified of dying at eleven. Poor Sam must have been so scared the night he died…And poor Rebecca had to bury him and their parents. Jack wanted to kneel beside her in the wet grass, but he didn’t know if she would want him to.

“What am I supposed to do?” His heart ached to know she had probably asked the same question when she was here the last time. It just had a different context then. Jack gave her a sympathetic look while she couldn’t see him to be mad about it. “Well…you’re facing your past. That’s why we’re here. So maybe you should talk to them about it. What it’s been like since they’ve been gone and the people who’ve helped you through when they couldn’t.” He finally crouched beside her, not kneeling so she would know he didn’t plan to stay and listen. When she looked at him, he took her hand in one of his. “They’re here. Even if you can’t see them, they can see you. And they haven’t heard from you in a while. They should know why. And they should know if you’re happy now. That’s all they ever wanted for you. I’m sure it would put them at ease to know how their daughter and sister is doing.” He kissed her hand and gave her a lopsided, concerned smile. “And I won’t stay and keep you from speaking your mind. But I won’t be far.” He pointed up towards a gentle hill off to the left of where they were now. “My dad is just beyond that hill. You’ll see me when you come to find me.” With that he kissed her hand one more time and rose to his feet. “You can do this.” He smiled before letting her hand go.

It was hard to leave her there. He didn’t want to leave her alone when she was crying. At least he wasn’t the one making her cry…or was he? He’d dragged her here. This was for her own good…he had to keep reminding himself of that. His feet were heavy as he shuffled his way across the cemetery. He looked at the headstones he passed, reading the touching or simple epitaphs etched into the stone. This was a sad place—it signified the end of life. But at least it was peaceful. They slept beneath the ground leaving only the living to contemplate their lives. And as he approached his family’s plot of this quiet earth, he found himself wondering when he would end up here. There was a place for him and his. It had been there since the Roccograndi’s came to Scriptor Bay, long before he was even a thought. Perhaps one day Rebecca would rest here with him. It would be nice to sleep beside her for eternity. He found his father quickly and the empty plot next to him where his mother would lie someday. Smiling at the name on the stone, Jack leaned down to place the flowers in his hand on the damp earth that covered his father’s bones. “Hey Dad.” For a long moment he simply stood with his hands in his pockets, looking at the headstone. It had been nearly a year since he’d been here last. He always came on Father’s Day. Sometimes on the day his father died. With a heavy sigh, he sank to the ground and kneeled in front of his dad. “I know it’s weird for me to be here now. It’s not the day you died and it’s not Father’s Day. Turns out, I fell in love with a woman whose parents and brother are buried here. She’s talking to them now for the first time in twenty years. I had to drag her here almost kicking and screaming, but she’s here.” He smiled more and shook his head, looking down to the flowers at his knees. His smile faded when he didn’t hear his father’s calming voice in response. When he raised his eyes to the stone again, he gave another small, strained smile. “I love her more than my own life, Dad. I want to marry her. I just wish you could be here to see it.” And for the first time in a long time, he felt tears for his father straining at the back of his eyes. He really did miss the old man.

[REBECCA TAYLOR]

“Well…you’re facing your past. That’s why we’re here. So maybe you should talk to them about it." Her stomach felt tight and she wished she'd skipped breakfast. Talking to her family? Really talking to them?
"What it’s been like since they’ve been gone and the people who’ve helped you through when they couldn’t.”  If they'd been watching her then wouldn't they know? Then again, who said they were? Who knew what happened after you died.  Either way it was unnerving.  They were dead.  There was nothing but rotted boned in the ground wrapped in rotten, aged clothes.  It made her equally sad and sick to imagine.  

She sensed him next to her, kneeling and her already reddened eyes looked to him pitifully. “They’re here. Even if you can’t see them, they can see you. And they haven’t heard from you in a while. They should know why. And they should know if you’re happy now. That’s all they ever wanted for you. I’m sure it would put them at ease to know how their daughter and sister is doing.” She tried replacing the mental picture of their corpses with actual pictures of them.  It had been so long she barely remembered what they looked like outside the photo she had. She'd pushed them out of her mind so hard over the last couple decades she barely had a memory of them at all.  Her shoulders slumped as his lips pressed to her hand, looking like a lost, scared puppy who'd been passed over for all its siblings.  “And I won’t stay and keep you from speaking your mind. But I won’t be far.” He was leaving? She didn't want him to go! Then again, she wouldn't speak if he were there. But alone? She reminded herself it was what she'd wanted anyway, but it didn't frighten her any less.  “My dad is just beyond that hill. You’ll see me when you come to find me.” Another peck to her hand and he was on his feet once more, her head craning up to watch him silently.  “You can do this.” He smiled but she could see in his face he was as sure of it as she was.  Could she?  Could she do this?

She watched his figure retreat far longer than she should, silently hoping he would turn around, come back and tell her this was silly, they should leave, but he didn't even turn around.  She waited until he was past the hill, truly alone with her family for the first time since the evening when they'd died.  Her mother had dropped her off at her friends house and that was the last time she'd seen her.  Daddy had been going through the bills at the kitchen table and Sam was playing with his legos up in his room.  She'd never even really said goodbye to him.  It was strange how vivid the memory was now.  Her father barely looked up from the bills when she pecked his cheek and wished him a hasty farewell.  None had known it would be their last encounter.  How could they? How different things would have been if they had.

"I know I haven't visited.." much nearly slipped past her lips, but it would be a lie.  She hadn't visited ever. "Things were very difficult for me.  For a long time I didn't even have the means to. No one would have.." She bit her lower lip already feeling her eyes well.  She breathed deeply and let the air flow slowly from her lips in a heavy sigh. "No one could take me. But I didn't try. If I'd asked.. I don't know, you wouldn't have wanted to see what I'd become anyway.  But that was ages ago, it doesn't matter now." She tucked her hair behind her ears, looking down at the ground for a long moment, gathering her wits.  Jack said to tell them everything, but then she'd be there all day.  Maybe just the good stuff.  "I stayed in school, and though my grades suffered at first, I was awarded a full scholarship to Washington State.  I got my bachelors in criminal justice and now I'm a cop." She had to laugh a little, telling her parents she was a police officer.  Surely it was the last thing either would expect from her.  She'd loved the quiet life in her youth, filling her time with dance and violin; mild activities.  Nothing nearly as exciting as police work, putting herself in harms way almost daily.  She'd have scoffed at becoming a cop back then, but there she was.

"I didn't expect to become one.. I guess you could say what happened impacted me.  A lot." Rebecca's voice quivered and again she paused, swallowing her tears.  "It wasn't supposed to be this way.. you weren't supposed to die.  You were supposed to be there, to protect me from all that bullshit, but you weren't.  I was alone.. how could you leave me all alone?!" The tears streaked down her cheek freely, pooling at her chin before staining her coat.  She reached her hands up and wiped below her eyes, sniffing back her tears best she could.  "If it weren't for Maxi maybe I wouldn't be here either." She sucked in her lower lip looking up at the sky as she attempted to control her tears.  "If she hadn't found me.. I don't know. I don't know what would have happened." It was with Maxi's friendship that she was able to pull away from the bad situation she'd found herself in before things got too out of control. Had she ever even properly thanked the girl?  "And then there's Jack."

"You would love Jack."  A sad sort of smile graced her lips as she looked back at the headstones, having controlled her tears for now.  "He's everything I never deserved. Handsome, sweet, passionate.. patient. He's why I'm even here.  You can thank him." She gave a sad sort of laugh as she gazed at her lap, her hands ringing each other anxiously.  "I'm trying to be better for him.  I'm seeing a psychiatrist to try and help with my 'emotional growth' since it's so clearly stunted."  She gave a sarcastic snort of a laugh, as if that were amusing somehow.  "I want to be what he deserves, but I'm so afraid of getting too close.  What if he leaves me too? I can't lose a third family." Her voice cracked and a fresh wave of tears welled in her eyes.  Rebecca took a long deep breath, then another. "I'm already too attached. I feel like I can't breathe without him.. like he's the anchor holding my sanity.  I hate what I do to him.. and I just.. I wish you were here to tell me what to do. To fix this.. because I'm just so tired of doing it alone, and ironically that's the reason I need Jack so much, and I know that, and I hate that, and I'm rambling about my relationship problems to my dead parents and brother like you're actually going to give me an answer." She tried to compose herself, taking a few moments to simply calm down.  Finally she shook her head.  "I love him.. I never thought I'd love someone like that.  For a long time I was okay with the idea of being alone forever, I felt destined for it.  Now my heart aches at the thought of ever being alone again."  She bit her lip and shook her head again.  "I don't know if you have any pull up there, or if there even is an up there or if you can actually even hear me, but.. if you do, and if you want to make up for not being there for me, just.. let him stay. I don't think I can do this again.  I don't think I can be alone anymore.  I just can't.  Okay? Can you do that?"  There was no answer, and she knew there wouldn't be, just the wind in the trees blowing the dead leaves around.  "I'll assume that's a yes."  Rebecca got to her knees, realizing how numb and cold they were.  She steadied herself and brushed her knees, folding her arms over her chest and simply watching the graves.  She wiped her face again and sighed, not sure how she felt.  "You have no idea how much I miss you.." She whispered.  "How much I still love you.. How much I wish you were here with me.  Really here.."  She swallowed the tears and turned away finally, body quivering slightly as she made her way in the direction Jack had gone.

Rebecca wasn't sure how she felt yet.  Sullen mostly she supposed.  Her steps felt heavy, her stomach still tight and her eyes stung.  She wanted to sleep, to crawl into bed with Jack and  pull the blankets over her head.  She wanted to use his heaving chest as a pillow, his even breaths rocking her to sleep as his arm draped safely around her, holding her close and protecting her from the world.  She saw him there in the distance, her heart fluttering gratefully.  It was nearly over; she'd done what she came to do and now they could go.  As she approached she could see he was speaking and she kept her distance, watching him without hearing any of what he said.  How could he do this so freely? Why didn't it seem to affect him the way it did her? She reminded herself he came on a semi regular basis.  Plus he was older when his father passed, and it hadn't been a surprise.  She waited semi-patiently in her spot, pulling her phone out.  She suddenly wondered how Maxi was doing.. She decided she'd try and make plans.  Soon.  She opened a text and sent off a quick message to her girlfriend; her only true friend outside of Jack.

[JACK ROCCOGRANDI]

The wind stirred the leaves and Jack looked up to the trees surrounding him. He wondered if there was a silent message whispering through the branches, perhaps meant for him or for Becca. What would it say? He wondered how Becca was doing, but he knew better than to disturb her. The purpose of the visit was to give her some private time with her parents and her brother, and he wasn’t about to break up the sad reunion. So his eyes fell back to the grave at his feet. Even after all of these years, it was strange to see his father’s name etched in stone. Maybe it was strange because Jack never really felt it belonged there. Not yet, anyway. There were still weddings to be had and babies to be born, holidays to celebrate with many, many hugs and kisses still to be given. Vito was supposed to be there for all of them. Maybe he was and would be in a way, visiting from another plain of existence. But it simply wasn’t the same.

“I’ve told you once before and I’ll tell you again: you left too soon, old man.” He gave a sad sort of smile, but it faded quickly. Reaching down, he placed his hand on top of the stone. “I miss you so much, Dad. You can make it up to me by helping me out if you can. If you have any pull up there, can you make sure Becca doesn’t give up? On herself or on me…I told you I love her more than my own life and I meant that. I just want her to be happy. If I thought she would be happier without me, I’d gladly step aside, but I know that isn’t the case.” He scratched the back of his neck almost shyly, feeling a little absurd to be embarrassed when talking to a dead person. But he realized what he’d said could be taken as conceded by anyone listening, alive or not. “Not that I’m tooting my own horn, it’s just…I know she needs me. I’m the one she comes to for comfort and guidance or whatever else she might need. I just want her to see that she can find comfort in herself too. I want her to be comfortable in her own skin. I want her to know that she’s allowed to be happy.” He remembered the version of her he had met in his dream and how different she’d been. She had truly been happy. He wanted his Becca to have the same contentment with her life. “I want to have the future with her that I had in my dream. With Shayla and the boy on the way. If you could help me get to that future…well, maybe I’ll forgive you for dying so soon.” He gave a slanted, wry smile to show he was joking about the forgiveness. He’d never held death against his dad.

Finally he kissed his fingers before brushing them over the headstone again. “I love you, Dad.” These last words were barely above a whisper, but he knew they would be heard. Somehow he knew that. He turned his head to the direction that Becca was and found her already standing a distance apart. Their eyes met and even though she looked almost shy at being caught watching him, it brought a warm smile to his lips. She had tear stains on her pale cheeks, but she looked more awkward than upset at the moment. He waved her over. Reluctantly she started over towards him. She was always so timid when heading towards something unfamiliar. He hoped this would be a place she would feel comfortable in someday. When she was close, he raised his strong arm up, inviting her to snuggle into him. She tucked herself under his arm without any further urging from him and he buried his nose in her hair at the top of her head. There was no smell in the world more like home to him now. He planted a kiss and asked against her hair, “Are you okay?”

[REBECCA TAYLOR]

Rebecca did what she could to not watch him, but found she was a miserable failure when it came to giving her boyfriend privacy during this intimate moment with his father.  Cool, sea colored eyes watched him speak from a distance, his fingers finally coming to his lips before touching the stone; a gentle kiss.  His head turned and her eyes met his, the warmth growing in her cheeks at being caught.  She felt like such a voyeur.  Of course he didn't seem to mind, the lopsided smile claiming his lips told her he was pleased to see her, even if she had been visually eavesdropping.  

When he waved her over she allowed her legs to finally move from the spot they'd been planted in for the last several minutes.  She trudged her way up to his side, trying not to make eye contact.  Strange how she could look a suspect in the eye for hours as she interrogated him but couldn't bear to make eye contact with her lover as she came to his side.  When she got close enough he invited her into his embrace and she moved against him, glad for the warm comfort only he could offer.  Finally she felt at peace. Finally she felt safe in this dreaded place.

“Are you okay?” He asked after planting a small kiss upon her head.  She let her eyes slip shut as she pushed herself closer to him, as though she could climb into him if she pushed hard enough.  "Yeah." She replied in the same tone.  Rebecca stayed that way for a moment before shifting her body, turning more into Jack as she faced him, arms coming up around his neck as she drew him into her for a hug.  It was gentle at first but she soon found herself gripping him tighter, allowing him to bear some of her weight as she let weakness consume her there in the safety of his embrace.  She wished she could say the words she'd said to her parents.  She wished she could tell him how much she loved and needed him, but she couldn't get past her own inhibitions.  For now this might be the closest she got, for words weren't her strong suit.  Especially as far as Jack was concerned.

"I love you." She offered the sentiment in a near whisper, but she knew he heard.  She could feel it in the way his body shifted, the way he held her tighter and then his reply.  "Will you take me home now?" She begged, turning her face into the crook of his neck.  "Please?"