A Full Love

"Dad loved a lot in life," Jolene said from the front of the room. "He loved basketball, he loved hosting parties that lasted hours past when they were supposed to end. He loved watching my brother, Henry, play his guitar. He loved pulling pranks on me, especially when I needed a laugh,” Jolene paused for a moment to keep the tears from straining her voice. “He always seemed to know when I needed one most. I know, of the many things he loved in life, he had the most love for our mom. Their love is something I've always looked up to. It is a love that is rare and precious. And while my heart breaks because I have lost my father, it breaks even more for my mama, who has lost the love of her life."

The quiet room of people in black clothes remained quiet as they looked toward her. Sniffles broke into the silence. Jolene raised a glass up toward the mourners, and they raised theirs in return. "Thank you all for coming out today to support us and show us how much love Dad had earned back from the love he put into the world."

"Amen," a man's voice boomed. 

"Amen," the rest of the room echoed. At the same time Henry, called back instead with, "From dust to dust." The room grew loud again, as it had been before Jolene grabbed everyone's attention to say a few words. 

She turned to her brother and her husband, Tom. She rolled her eyes at the two of them swaying and smirking together by the bar cart in her parents' living room. Jolene had no doubt that Henry had been the one egging Tom on with the childish peer pressure of 'one more shot.' Despite the slightly embarrassing way they huddled over the whisky, giggling about something, Jolene loved how well they got along. She felt lucky that her family was so close, that her parents treated Tom like one of their own and she adored how Henry acted like Tom was the big brother he'd always hoped for. 

Then she remembered once again, the heartbreaking reality that their family unit was broken and shrunken, when she'd been expecting it to keep growing. The reminder that her dad was gone, that he would never be able to comfort her in the moments she felt life getting too hard, that she could never hear his voice say, "You're making it too difficult, sweetheart," again, made her suddenly need the comfort of her mother. 

"Have you seen mom?" She asked the guys, looking around the living room. 

"She's probably upstairs hiding from this," Henry said. He wasn't wrong, their mother, Rachel Milton, was not a fan of social gatherings or crowds. If it had been Rachel’s choice, this whole event would've been a small ceremony in the backyard with just her kids and a tightly rolled joint being passed around. But so many people had loved Lawrence Milton, and she wasn't going to deny them the catharsis of mourning at his last, great party. 

Jolene went up the stairs and the sounds of the mourners grew muffled as she walked down the hallway of framed family photos, toward her parent's room. She found her mom sitting in partial darkness in one of the big swivel chairs by the bay window. Jolene knew, from growing up in that house, that it was the spot her parents started their day in together, and they’d always ended the day together in those two chairs by their bedroom window. The chairs had been swapped out over the years for ever-changing design styles, but they were always in that same spot for the two of them to plan the day together and debrief at the end. Jolene had wanted a similar routine with Tom when they got married. But it only lasted a week before their schedules left them too tired, or late, or braindead to take the time to connect each morning and night.

Her parents had survived near divorce when she and Henry were in college, but they powered through and were happier than ever, even seemingly growing more and more happy and into each other with each passing year. 

"My sweet, Jolene," Rachel said, as she outstretched her arms toward her daughter, in a gesture for her to come sit on her lap, like a little girl, instead of the nearing-40-year-old woman she was.

Jolene startled when her dad's chair turned on its own, revealing a woman in her fifties, dressed in black, wearing her hair pulled up into a tight bun, and way too much gold jewelry for a Thursday night. 

"Oh, I didn't mean to startle you, honey," the woman said with a strong, southern drawl. "I'm Caroline Carter, a longtime friend of your parents'."

Jolene thought it was odd for her parents to have a friend she'd never heard about before. Her dad loved to tell stories about everyone and everything, even if they were insignificant. She recalled a recent memory of her dad telling a story bouncing around the kitchen waving his hands wildly as he told it. She'd video called them, and her mom answered, while dad was mid dramatics. He paused in his story to peek over her mom's shoulder and say hello to Jolene, then he kissed his wife on the cheek, and jumped right back into the story. Her mom smiled and rolled her eyes, but Jolene could see the joy, she could feel it from them, even through the phone. They had been each other's first loves, first lovers, they had been soulmates, and despite the rough patches, they acted like soulmates still. 

"Nice to meet you," Jolene said to Caroline, extending her hand to the woman as she sat down on her mother’s lap. Caroline shook her hand firmly, then covered it with her other hand in a show of affectionate sympathy.

"It is so wonderful to finally meet you," Caroline said. Jolene relaxed into her mother's lap and leaned her head into her mother’s neck. Though she hadn't been expecting to share a moment of peace with a stranger, in this intimate spot her parent’s shared, she still felt the comfort of being held by her mother, and appreciated the calming presence Caroline radiated, even as a stranger.

"I hope there is snow where he is now," Jolene said as the three of them watched out the dark window at a yellow, landscape light catching the reflection of falling snowflakes. 

"We should've buried him in one of his flannel jackets, then," Caroline said.

Rachel laughed and said, “Those damn flannels.” Jolene was surprised to hear her mom laugh at a stranger's intimate knowledge of her dad’s favorite wardrobe pieces. 

"How did you know my father?" Jolene asked, watching the woman curiously. 

"He was one of my best friends," she said, a tear rolling down her face. "For many years."

Jolene assumed they must've known each other from some past era of life and the woman must be visiting from out of town for the funeral. As she began to ask and answer her own curious daydreams about who the new woman was, her mother hugged her tight and said, "Caroline was your father's girlfriend."

Jolene turned to see her mother's face. “Before you?” She asked, running through the timelines in her head.

"For the last 20 years," Rachel responded. 

Jolene watched her mother's face for a sign of how recently she had discovered this impossible information.

But instead, Rachel reached her hand out to Caroline, who stretched her own arm out and gave Rachel's hand a squeeze.

Jolene stood up quickly. Appalled and confused at her mother’s reaction to betrayal. Her parent's relationship had been one of legends. An impossible standard Jolene pitted her own husband, Tom, against every day. She thought their love had been pure magic.

"I thought you and Dad were so in love. I thought you were the ideal," Jolene said between quick, short breaths. She sat quickly on her parent’s bed, too weak to stand as the questions swirled painfully in her mind and her stomach. 

"Your mother was the love of his life," Caroline said. "I was just a good friend."

"Then why would you say 'girlfriend,' like that?" Jolene asked her mother, frustrated and trying to make sense of the misunderstanding. 

“Because.” Rachel said calmly to her daughter, “I think it's fair to call Caroline that. She and your dad were friends, but they were intimate partners for their whole relationship."

Jolene fell back onto the bed and covered her eyes with her hands, trying to process.

"When did you find out?" Jolene asked her mother. 

"I knew the whole time," Rachel responded. "We were in an open relationship for many years. Your dad met Caroline when we were in a bad place, when you were in college. She is part of the reason we healed."

"None of this makes sense," Jolene said. "How can your whole relationship be a lie?"

"There was nothing untruthful about it," Caroline said, beginning to stand up from Lawrence's chair. "We were all very happy with the arrangement we had. We felt lucky we found it."

Rachel stood up with Caroline as Jolene stayed flat on her back, slapping her hands over her eyes, breathing deeply through the crumbling of her reality.

"I'm going to head out, Rach," Caroline said. "I'll text ya tomorrow, ok?"

"Thank you," Rachel said as the women leaned in to hug each other tightly.

Caroline stopped at the bedroom door and looked back at Jolene who had curled up into the fetal position on the bed. Rachel sat next to her daughter and placed her hand on her head, petting her hair out of her face. 

"I'm so sorry for your loss, honey," Caroline said gently before she walked back down the hall to say goodnight to some of the friends she and Lawrence had shared.