Chapter 35: Family Matters

25 June 1994 – West Ware Road, Enfield, Massachusetts

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today...”

Jeff’s smile threatened to split his face wide open. He’d never seen his little sister look lovelier or happier. As one of Stu’s groomsmen, Jeff stood next to Stu and Matty Masterson, Stu’s almost eight-year-old son. While Matty was Stu’s Best Man as far as Stu was concerned, the state required an adult as a witness. Jeff’s name would be on the marriage certificate.

Kara looked at her soon-to-be-husband with pure adoration. She smiled down at Matty next; the two forged a special bond while Kara and Stu formed their own. Kara understood that she’d inserted herself into a very special dynamic.

Stu Masterson met Jenni Kim early into his first Navy enlistment in March of 1983. She was a nineteen-year-old waitress at Stu’s favorite breakfast place outside the gates of Naval Submarine Base Bangor, Washington. Her parents were not fans of Stu. Stu and Jenni fell in love and married by the end of that enlistment. Her parents cut off all contact shortly after the young couple announced their intent to marry.

Jenni and Stu didn’t tell her parents when Stu received orders to NSB New London, Connecticut, and the submarine training school in 1987. Jenni’s parents made their decision, which made the young couple’s easier. They moved without informing Jenni’s parents. They didn’t notify them a year earlier when she gave birth to their grandson, either.

Stu only called his family three and a half years later when Jenni died. A drunk driver hit Jenni’s car head-on while driving home from work in 1991, and before Stu reenlisted for a third four-year hitch. Instead of receiving transfer orders, the Navy granted Stu a hardship discharge. Soon after, he and Matty landed in Wilbraham, Massachusetts, the hometown of a buddy from New London who recommended it as an excellent place to live.

Stu was the youngest of five children, fully a dozen years younger than his next-oldest sibling, an ‘oops’ baby. Stu’s parents held the Masterson family together. When they both died within six months of each other – his mom of cancer and his father of loneliness – he and Matty found themselves alone. With no common ground between Stu and his siblings, they drifted out of contact.

Stu’s life focus narrowed to Matty’s well-being. He found a local EMT class offered during the early evening and a babysitter available those two nights of the week. Stu signed up. By the end of 1991, Stu earned his certification as a Massachusetts EMT. He found a home-based daycare that could accommodate his unusual schedule once he started at CRVA. Both the daycare and Stu’s employer did their best to help out the single father.

While working at CRVA, Stu started to make good friends again: Connie Willis, Bill Harris, and Gene Chomsky. Stu added Jeff Knox to that list after Jeff began work there. Stu helped train Jeff and partnered with him for a July Fourth detail in Jeff’s hometown. Jeff introduced Stu to his family there.

It was in that instant that Stu’s life changed. A pair of hazel eyes froze him in his tracks when Jeff introduced his younger sister, Kara. Stu’s mind registered on some level that the eyes’ owner looked a lot like Jeff. Stu couldn’t help but stare at her. Something about her reminded him of Jenni in a way that no woman had since Jenni’s death.

Stu spent the entire cookout portion of their standby detail talking with Kara and then another three hours doing the same at Jeff’s apartment. Following their assignment, the drive back to the CRVA garage was the cherry on top: Jeff suggested that Stu should go out with his sister if Stu wanted to. It was like an invisible wall crumbling away. Stu helped Jeff put the ambulance away and then rushed home to Matty.

“Matty, I think I’ve just met someone important. You need to meet her, too.”

At her insistence, Stu and Kara’s first date was at his apartment with Matty there. Kara won Matty over right away by talking to him like an adult, not as an almost six-year-old boy; Matty was a young man who learned too much about the world after his mother died. Matty gave his dad a nod during dinner.

Later that night, Matty told Stu, “I like her.”

Stu and Kara began dating after that. On most of their dates, they spent hours talking. By October, Kara offered to watch Matty on the evenings and nights when Stu worked. That’s when she and Matty bonded even more. By July of 1993, Stu proposed to Kara with Matty’s urging and Joe Knox’s blessing. Kara and Stu opted for a small wedding in her parents’ backyard rather than a large church wedding.

Matty Masterson hugged his father after the new husband and wife walked down the aisle with their son following behind. Then, turning to Kara, he gave her the same fierce hug and then whispered into her ear. Kara’s hand shot to her mouth as tears leaked from her eyes.

“Really?” she sobbed. Matty nodded, and Kara wrapped him in a violent hug.

“Babe?” Stu asked with concern.

“Stu, he asked if he could call me ‘Mom.’”

Jeff was glad Stu and Kara’s wedding invitations asked everyone to dress comfortably and for the weather. Jeff was more than happy to forgo the regular dress clothes for such an occasion. Even the bridal party dressed down for the ceremony, wearing casual summer clothes.

Jeff sat in a lawn chair with his feet up, holding a beer, while the party continued around him. A plate of barbecue chicken, beans, coleslaw, and potato salad sat in his lap. Jeff soaked up the sun, happy his sister and his friend had found someone to spend their lives with; the fact that ‘someone’ turned out to be ‘each other’ was pretty cool. The almost ten-year age difference didn’t matter to them or Jeff’s family. Jeff looked over at the person who dropped into the chair next to him.

“This meal isn’t going to do anything for my figure.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your figure, Heather, and you know it! You’re twenty-six and an absolute beauty! But, geez, woman, stop fishing for compliments.”

“Maybe something needs to be wrong with my figure! I keep attracting every numb-nut and dickhead in the Metro Boston area! And that’s at the BU library!”

“Well, you do look fabulous, Heather, all kidding aside.”

“Thanks. And thanks for being my date today. I didn’t want to come solo.”

“I thought you were my date?”

“Potaytoe, potahtoe. How have things been in Malden?”

“Busy. I’m about to change my work schedule in advance of paramedic school. The good news is that Sean wants to keep being my permanent partner.”

“I would imagine being the owner’s son helps with scheduling, too? Has anyone else figured out who he is?”

“No, which is shocking to the both of us. We figured someone else would have figured it out by now. I don’t think even the HR person knows. And that ties into his scheduling, too. We requested to keep working together in an open schedule slot. That’s why we’ll still be together, not because he’s Seamus’ son. I have to give the kid a lot of credit: he wants to know the job before he tries to run the company.”

“‘Kid?’ He’s only two years younger than you!”

“Potaytoe, potahtoe. How is the quest for your master’s going?”

“I’ll finish in time for the October commencement ceremonies, which is fine with me. I’ll already be working on my Doctorate by then, and speaking of Doctorates, any word from Allison? I know Kara sent her an invitation. It would have been cool to see Allison again.”

“She sent a card and a gift,” Jeff shrugged. “She’s already started working on her Ph. D., which doesn’t surprise me. Allison said she was sorry that she couldn’t make it back for the wedding but that she might be up later this summer. By Christmas, at the latest.”

“It’s too bad the timing hasn’t worked for you with any of us. Pauline, Allison, me? I’m surprised you have any capacity for love left in you sometimes with how we left you high-and-dry.”

Jeff’s feet dropped to the ground, and he sat straight up.

“Whoa! Where is this coming from? Is that what you think you’ve done? Left me ‘high-and-dry?’” Jeff asked, surprised. “Don’t I tell you enough how lucky I’ve been to know all you ladies and to count you as friends still? You’re here with me now, even though there was no ‘spark’ when we dated. Allison, Pauline, and I are still in touch with each other on a semi-regular basis. How can I complain about any of that?”

Heather had no answer for Jeff. Instead, she sat in her chair, staring out at the woods.

“Heather? Heather, what’s going on?”

“What ... What if he’s not out there, Jeff? What if I’ve already met him and don’t know it?”

“Heather? This isn’t like you. What’s the matter?” Heather didn’t answer him again and only shook her head while her eyes watered. “You think fate wants you to be an old spinster or something? You think you’re going to be alone, is that it?” She continued to stare at the trees.

“It amazes me how often smart people can be so dumb. Heather, as I said to you five years ago, some guy is going to be very lucky when he gets to date you long-term. You just haven’t found the guy who is good enough for you. So, as a sage woman said to me five years ago: ‘cut this I’m-feeling-sorry-for-myself shit out, or I’m coming over there to kick your ass!’”

She barked her trademark laugh. “Yeah, good luck with that. I fight dirty.”

“If it isn’t dirty, you’re not doing it right,” he responded while he leaned towards her and wagged his eyebrows.

Heather barked another laugh. “Keep dreaming, hotshot. I’m a double black diamond ski trail, not a bunny slope. You ain’t ready for all this.”

“That’s the Heather I know!”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, have you heard the latest report on the World Trade Center bombing from last fall?”

“No, I’ve been busy with helping Mom and Kara out with today. So what’s the report say?”

“The Fibbies are saying that the Arab terrorists who attacked us are angry with the US for being in Saudi Arabia during the Gulf War.”

“We’re all just dirty infidels, that kind of thing?”

“Yeah, and they’re mad at us for bringing our unclean water purification technology, too.”

Jeff shook his head. “So we’re damned if we do, and damned if we don’t yet again? If we had stayed out of the Gulf War, we’d have been called ‘selfish.’ And because we went – at Kuwait and Saudi Arabia’s request, mind you – we’re still targets? Great. They can do it themselves next time.”

“You’d think between the Soviets and us we could keep a lid on these extremists.”

Jeff snorted. “The Soviets can’t even keep a lid on their trouble-makers. So many of the power-brokers welcomed the hardliners back in 1991 when they deposed Gorbachev. Now those same power-brokers are fed up with the empty promises the hardliners keep making. The fact that the hardliners touted how good their military hardware was before we blew it all to kingdom-come in the Gulf War hasn’t helped. The Soviets can say the Iraqis screwed up all they want, but the truth is we cut through the Iraqis like the proverbial hot knife through butter. It wouldn’t have mattered who was using it.”

Stu and Sean walked into one of Brophy’s contracted nursing facilities in early August. The Malden House wasn’t as bad as the River House in Springfield, but it wasn’t the Ritz Carlton, either. The nursing home odor was mercifully faint here. This call would be Sean’s tech. That is, he’d ride in the back of the ambulance with the patient.

Jeff and Sean stepped up to the nurses’ desk and asked for the patient’s chart. The nurse behind the desk dropped the chart on the counter and turned back to her television. Jeff and Sean shared a look before Sean started his paperwork. Then, another nurse walked behind the desk.

“Who are they here for?” she asked the first nurse.

“The gorked gook,” she replied. Sean frowned at Jeff. The first nurse looked up. “They told us she spoke English when she came here, but she hasn’t said anything in the last week. Just some gibberish when she first got here.”

“What room?” he asked Sean, ignoring the two women.

Sean flipped the chart closed and looked at its spine. “Seven. Bed by the window.”

Jeff noted the patient’s name before he walked away. He pushed the stretcher down the hall to Room 7. Peering inside, Jeff saw an older Asian woman staring out the window. Her roommate wasn’t in the room. Given the patient’s last name and the report that she spoke ‘gibberish,’ Jeff took a chance.

“Hayashi-san?” Jeff asked when he stepped into the room. She looked back at him, surprised that someone in the Malden House would speak Japanese. He bowed to her and continued in that language.

“Konnichiwa, Hayashi-san. I’m Jeff. My partner Sean and I have come to take you to your appointment.” Mrs. Hayashi continued to look at him in shock. “It’s been some time since I’ve spoken Japanese, so I apologize for my pronunciation,” he said.

“Your pronunciation is perfect. I am shocked to find someone here who speaks Japanese. How is it that you know the language?”

“My best friend, Ma’am. He taught me while we were roommates in the Army.”

“He taught you well.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. How long have you been here?”

“A week. My ‘loving’ daughter and her good-for-nothing husband found a way to dump me here after my leg surgery. They’re off on some year-long cruise around the world while this place sucks my accounts dry.”

“You can’t return home once your rehab is complete?”

She snorted. “After my husband died, our daughter convinced me to sell our house and move in with them. My grandson was in college at the time, so there was plenty of room for me. Now Tim’s graduated and in Korea for a year with the Army on his first assignment. My daughter and son-in-law sold their house and arranged to put me in here while I was in the hospital. I don’t have anywhere left to go. I speak English very well, but I chose not to speak a single word of it to anyone here. I’m not sure who I can trust.”