Chapter 6

A month later, Barbara moaned as her muscles throbbed and clenched. She desperately needed some relief.

She looked back over her shoulder at Bobby, standing breathlessly behind her, drenched in sweat.

"Baby, put you hands right here and rub me," she said softly.

"Sure, Mom."

He put down what felt like the millionth box he'd carried into their new home, and reached for her aching shoulders. He hooked his fingers over the top edges, and rubbed his thumbs in smooth circles over her shoulder blades and spine.

"Thanks honey. That sure hits the spot."

They then each grabbed a box with stuff for their respective bedrooms, and headed upstairs.

Raul and Sammy were away making what would hopefully be the last round trip with his van to the old house. Two weeks ago Barbara had posted fliers around the old neighborhood for "the mother of all garage sales." They had sold off rooms full of furniture and other possessions that simply would not fit in the new place.

It had been hard to part with things that she'd carefully collected over the years to decorate John and Barbara's dream home. But as Raul had said, "this is reality." She didn't have room for it all, and she could use the cash.

Their new home was a slightly run down 4 bedroom, 2.5 bath colonial in a quiet cul de sac. Its sole modernization had been the recent addition of a large hot tub in the spacious back yard. When it had been built in the early 1960's, the surrounding neighborhood had been an emerging bedroom community for white collar professionals that commuted into the city.

Now the neighborhood was in transition. The bedroom community had become a small city itself. This oldest portion of that city was a mix of older folks still living there from the area's inception, new families that were just getting started and were refreshing or restoring the older homes, and tenants in mobile homes and houses that had become rental properties. The only low income housing development the city had ever built was half a mile from Barbara and Bobby's new house.

In combination it meant that, unlike their old neighborhood, there was diversity. There were homes in varying states of repair, occupied by people with widely varied economic status, ethnic backgrounds, and family structures.

Raul and Sammy lived in a slightly smaller if better maintained home just a few blocks away. The bus to the middle school made a stop almost exactly between them, so in that way the location was perfect.

The house had not been on her candidate list, but Barbara had become aware of it when her bank foreclosed on the previous owners. When she reviewed the paperwork, she was amazed the bank had ever issued the prior loan in the first place. Even a little research would have discovered that the buyer had abandoned loans and houses before in another state.

But the bank's loss was her gain. She was able to pick up the house below market by agreeing to take it over immediately.

Unfortunately, finding the good deal on the house so quickly had shortened the transition time for Bobby and Patty.

Barbara wished again that she hadn't had to discontinue their visits with the grief counselor when the health insurance coverage had run out. She could have used the counselor's input in helping Bobby deal with the separation from Patty.

The counselor had helped them come to grips with losing John. More importantly, she'd helped them learn how to help each other. A big part of that was to encourage them to be comfortable enough with each other to say what they were feeling. They could now say to each other, "I miss Dad," or "I remember when John used to," without fear of causing the other grief giving memories. They tried to celebrate his memory, while still mourning his loss.

The counselor had also encouraged them to grow comfortable with being physically supportive and demonstrative with each other. Now they would hug when the right words didn't come. They would give reassuring touches when they passed each other. It was another way of expressing "we're in this together."

When the counseling sessions ended, they found they missed that structured time to talk. Bobby began to lapse into longer periods of silence, withdrawing from Barbara and Patty.

Finally, Barbara got Bobby to agree to set aside the last hour of the day before bedtime to just be together. Whether either felt like talking or not, they would spend that hour in the same physical space. Sometimes they would talk about John the whole time. Sometimes they would talk about their work or school days. Some evenings they would just sit in companionable silence and watch TV or DVDs.

Their physical demonstrations of support to each other carried over to their "together hour." While they would sit on a couch together, they would find themselves holding hands while they talked, or sitting with their arms around each other while watching a movie.

Since the move away from Patty had suddenly become a reality, Bobby had seemed to become increasingly quiet and lethargic. To Barbara he seemed to be showing the early signs of falling into what the counselor had described as a deeper, more serious depression.

She felt the need to do an intervention.

During their "together hour" that night, as they sat watching television surrounded by unopened boxes and other chaos from the move, Barbara took his head in her hands to ensure she had his full attention.

"Bobby, could we have a sleep over tonight?"

THAT got his eyes wide open. "What?"

"I know we haven't done that since you were little, but... would you mind? I still have some things I'd like to talk to you about, honey."

Bobby stared at her silently, for what seemed to her like an eternity, before saying, "Okay, Mom."

She smiled softly and reached up to give him a firm hug, her breasts pressing into his chest. For the first time he could remember when hugging his mother, he wasn't sure of what to do with his hands.

Chapter 7 »