Johnny Angel

They spent a lazy afternoon, eating and watching TV, and that night, she cooked the traditional ham that she always made for them at Christmas. Her appetite wasn't great, and she was distracted as she served the dinner. But all afternoon, she had been haunted by the realization that the miracles they'd experienced and the blessings they'd shared had been too numerous. There was nothing left for Johnny to do now. Becky had her scholarship and a new boyfriend who was good to her. Pam had met a wonderful man, who loved her, and her kids, and they were getting married. Charlotte and Jim were closer than anyone could ever have dreamed of. He had stopped drinking. Bobby had started talking. And she had had nearly three months with the son she loved and who had been taken from her, with no warning, all too quickly. They had each had priceless gifts that would change the course of their lives forever. There was nothing left to do. And the more she thought of it, the more she knew that Johnny would have to leave soon. And the prospect of it made her heart ache.

“You're leaving, aren't you?” she asked him when they were alone in the kitchen after dinner. Everything was put away, and it had been a long, comfortable day. Even Johnny's absence hadn't been as painful as usual, for Jim and Charlotte. They seemed to be adjusting to it, and Johnny had explained to Bobby, right from the beginning, that he would leave again one day. He was just there for a little visit.

“Probably, Mom,” Johnny said honestly. “We'll know when it's the right time. You will too. I told you, you'll be ready.” He sounded so certain of it, but she hadn't liked his answer.

“Then it's not the right time,” she said, sounding younger than he did, “because I'm not ready. This is going to hurt too much,” she said, as tears spilled onto her cheeks, and Johnny looked at her sadly.

“Don't cry, Mom. I won't be far away. You know that.”

“I want you here, just like you have been.”

“I know you do. So do I. We all do. But I can't do that. They won't let me. I have to go back.” His stay for the past several months had been the ultimate gift.

“That's mean of them,” she said, as he put his arms around her. “We need you … I need you … and Bobby and Dad, and Charlie.”

“I love you,” he said simply, and for an instant, she got a glimmer of what that meant. The words seemed enormous suddenly, like the feelings that went with them. Bigger than she'd ever imagined they could be. The words were like clouds that enveloped her, and cushioned all the pain she'd ever felt, or been afraid of, since the beginning of time.

“You look tired,” she said, looking up at him. “And you know I love you too.”

“Yes, I do, Mom. I always knew that.” She was relieved to hear it. They stood and hugged for a long moment, and then walked slowly out of the kitchen to find the others. Everyone was looking full and tired and sleepy. And a little while later, they all walked upstairs together, wished each other a Merry Christmas again, and went to their own rooms.

She and Jim went to bed early, and the kids were already asleep, as they lay there talking about what a nice Christmas it had been, despite the painful reality of Johnny's absence. And she felt a little guilty when Jim mentioned it, because only she and Bobby knew that Johnny had been there with them.

“You know, I feel good about him. As though he's in a happy place. I don't know why, but I just feel that,” Jim said, as they lay in the dark, with his arm around her.

“So do I,” she said with a sigh, and then they just lay side by side and held each other. And a little while later, Jim fell asleep, but Alice just couldn't. She was wide awake, no matter how tired she was, or how long the day had been. All she could think of tonight was Johnny. And long after midnight, she got up finally, and walked out into the hallway. She was going to go back downstairs and make herself a cup of warm milk to drink, to soothe her nerves and calm her stomach. And just as she came out of her room, she saw Johnny come out of Charlotte's bedroom. He had been with her for a long time, and held her hand as she fell asleep, and she was smiling now, dreaming of him.

He had been in Bobby's room with him before that, and they'd had a long talk, about what it meant to go on, and take the people you love with you in your heart.

“You're going away again, aren't you?” Bobby had asked him, but he hadn't looked worried about it. It was as though he understood, even though he was a child.

“Yes, I am.” Johnny was always honest with him.

“Will you come back again?” Bobby's eyes were wide with wonder.

“Maybe, but I don't think so.”

“Thank you for helping me talk again,” Bobby said, and they held each other for a long time. Bobby would always remember his brother, and in many ways, he was a lot like him.