Hope from the Ocean: 1

"Hope from the ocean, but none from the grave."

-Irish Emigrant Proverb

Todd fixed his son's tie, and said, "Okay, you're all set."

"I'm nervous.  I've never really been to one of these before."

"It's okay.  I'll be there.  It's important that you do this."

Jack walked to the coffin, where the body was displayed, and avoided looking.  He focused his eyes, instead, on the cross on the altar.  St. James' Church had never looked quite the same that he could remember.  On all sides, people were sobbing, crying and talking.  He avoided them, too, and stared straight ahead.  He wasn't sure, but he thought it was Andrew Carpenter, the same preacher who had married his parents, who was talking.  He seemed to be leading a prayer, but Jack recognized it as lyrics to a song. . .

"That's wrong," he said, turning to his father who suddenly wasn't there.  "Dad?"

Turning back to the altar, he was alone.  The sad people had all gone; there was just him and the coffin, and the droning voice of the reverend.  He looked to the casket, and finally saw his father, who was crying, and somehow, bleeding through his jacket.  Shane Morasco stood by, crossing just his hands below his waist, like a secret serviceman, and smiled a large grin.

"Dad?" Jack said, and Todd fell to the ground, leaving him to see that it was Blair in the coffin.

"No!"  he sat up in the dark, and looking around him, became frantic.  Throwing the covers off, he bounded to the master bedroom suite, and pushed his way into the room.

Todd and Blair were embracing, and fortunately for everyone involved, still clothed, with her on top of his chest, kissing her husband, and his hands tangled in her hair. 

Aware of Jack's presence, Blair instinctively pulled up the sheet, as Jack yelled, "Mom!  Mom!  Please Mom, please . . ."

Todd shot up out of the bed and went to his son.  Blair looked on with shock, and Todd said, "Hey, Jack, it's all right."  He grabbed him by the shoulders and held him firm.  "Hey, look at me."

Jack, who had panic written all over his face, was practically hyperventillating, and when his eyes finally fell on Blair, he broke, falling toward his father.  Todd caught him in his arms.  "Hey, Jack, what's going on," he said, faltering emotionally himself.  

Blair was up by now, going to them, and putting her hand on Jack's shoulder.  

"Mom," he sobbed, "it was so real.  Mom. . .Mom . . ." he repeated, and she held him.  

Todd, turning away from them snapped on a few lights, and Jack squinted at first, and then his eyes adjusted as he struggled to gain his composure.  Finally, as Blair led him to the couch to sit down next to her, and he said, "I'm sorry, Dad, Mom, I was so . . . it was real."  

"But it wasn't, Buddy.  It was a dream."  Todd said, reassuringly, and sat next to his son.

His parents flanked him, and Jack said, "It was so . . . Mom was . . ."

"It's okay, Jack." Blair said, "Look, I'm okay."

He nodded, and fell against her shoulder.  "I was scared.  I thought you were gone."

"She's here, and she'll be pestering you about your grades in the morning.  You know that."  Todd added.

Jack fell silent, as if thinking, against his mother's shoulder.  "Are you sure going to Jenna's mother's funeral is the best idea?"  Blair asked.

"I have to, she is going to need support."  Jack said.  "I just have to be there."

Todd and Blair looked at each other.  "Is this dream about Jenna, or is it about you and Shane Morasco?"  Todd asked him.

He sat up quickly in response.  "It was . . . about both.  I thought I was at Ms. Winfield's funeral, and then, Shane was there, and it was you, Mom.  You were crying, Dad, and bleeding."

"Well, you had one thing right.  I would be devastated and all the life would go out of me without your mother."

"It's a dream, Jack.  That's all."  Blair said.

"I know, but at first, I didn't.  I was really scared."

"We know, you scared us too," she said, stroking her son's hair.

He got himself together and pulled back from her.  "I'm okay now."

"Good," she said, "you had us worried."

"You okay, now, Bud?"  Todd said, "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, I am all right.  I'll go back to bed.  I'm sorry I interrupted you guys.   That was a little embarrassing."

"Don't worry about it,"  Todd said, watching Jack go to the door.  "If you need us, we're here."  Turning to his wife as his son went off, Todd said, "You think it's too much for him to go tomorrow to the funeral?"

"I don't know, Todd.  He's just a boy, at the same time he's a young man.  It's like, this in-between thing."

"I see it, too.  What if I go with him?  Lend support?"

"I think he'd love that.  I know he loves you and spending any time with you that he can."

"I'll offer.  But I won't push."

"Where were we exactly, Mr. Manning?"

"I don't exactly know, Mrs. Manning."

"Shut the door, though.  We might need to start locking it at night.  The baby is going to be walking soon.  I keep calling him a baby, and he's almost two."

"I know.  Time flies," he said, closing the bedroom door.  "I want to marry you."

"You already did.  Enough times."

"Way to spoil a moment, Blair."

"The moment wasn't already spoiled?"

***

Todd fixed his son's tie, and said, "Okay, it's straight."

Jack avoided thinking how much like his dream this was.  "I'm nervous.  Thanks for going with me, Dad."

"Don't mention it."

"Do I have to act a certain way?"

"No, just follow my lead.  Say things like, 'I'm sorry for your loss' or 'so sorry to hear.'"

"Okay."

"For Jenna, it will all come naturally.  You'll know what to say to her."

"How do you know?"

"You care about her, that's how I know."

"Will she get over this, Dad?"

You bitch!  Tell that brat of yours to get in his room and wait for me to come and get him.

"Yeah, she'll get over it.  People . . . get over things," he said, standing in front of the mirror.  He was frozen, looking at himself, but not seeing anything but a scene from his past.

"Dad, you okay?  Dad?"

"I'm . . . okay, Jack.  I'm okay, just let me fix my own tie here."  He feigned looking at his tie in the mirror's glass, and avoiding looking into his own eyes.

"Dad, are we taking the limo, or the copter?"

"The copter wouldn't be quite the right touch for this occasion.  We'll get Williams."

"All right."  He said, fixing his hair a last time.  "Dad?"

"Yeah, Son."

"How do you know if you're in love?"

"That's a long one, maybe for the limo ride."

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