Reva returned from her week away in Philadelphia. Jules loved seeing Ako again. They watched movies. They did crosswords. They watched the NBA playoffs. The Sixers were defeated by the Knicks in the first round. Poor Embiid played on one leg. They needed more shooting. Jules enjoyed watching Ruby in the kitchen. She could have her own restaurant someday. So full of energy and determination, always on her toes. Jules went for walks with Ako in the mornings and with Ruby after her dinners.
On the final night, when Reva returned, they all ate together. Ako brought her teenage daughter. Ruby brought her young son. The house was full of music and laughter. The aromas of chili and garlic, and later vanilla and cinnamon, wafted out into the living room from the kitchen throughout the evening.
Reva texted Tommy Sullivan a few weeks later. She told Tommy she was glad to receive his letter. She explained that Jules couldn’t write back. The memories of the courtroom and the pain of Violet’s death inundated Jules once again. Reva told him how Jules had spent years attempting to let go of the pain, the fury and the melancholy. She went on to explain that Jules had spent his life struggling with melancholy and loss. That his life, from the beginning, had been difficult. She explained the way his parents escaped from Ukraine as children and Nina’s trauma, the way Jules and his brothers had to fend for themselves like so many of that generation did. The way Jules’ marriage with Lisa ended. How Jules was a sensitive and compassionate man. She finished by telling Tommy that instead of sending money, he could contribute to Violet’s passion in developing community gardens. Reva wished Tommy luck in his re-entry to the world.
Reva got updates from the facility. Jules was fourth on the waiting list. Two months later, he was bumped up to third. Reva and Jules laughed about how mortality in modern life sometimes existed as a simple list of names. It made Jules think of a baseball lineup. Who was up to bat? Who was on deck?
As the calendar flipped, Jules was closer to moving out of his house. Reva got another email in late-June. Jules was now on deck. He recalled watching Reva play softball. He envisioned sitting with Lisa on those metal bleachers. Reva wasn’t much of a hitter, but she could run. When she’d make contact with the ball, she’d sprint out of the batter’s box and beat out most of the throws to first.
Reva’s summer included more planning meetings, while she sorted and organized the house. Boxes labeled with a black sharpie #1 were heading to Jules’ new space at the facility. #2 was storage. #3 was for Reva to send back to Philly. The rest were trash. So many books and old magazines. Reva allowed Jules one box of books to bring with him. Jules shook his head at the task of figuring out which books to bring with him. So many hours of his life spent reading those pages. So many unread or unfinished. Jules blamed the damn internet for all those unread paperbacks. Reva was readying to return to her career and attempt more middle-aged dating adventures.
Jules was unsettled and began having bizarre dreams. In one dream, he found himself in a kind of purgatory. White walls. White couch. One window. Gray sky. No sunlight. A projector on the ceiling displayed only the date and time on the wall. Jules was scared of being alone. Terrified of being left to die, even though he knew Reva and Seamus, Becca and Neve would occasionally visit him. Reva reassured him that he’d make a friend or two. They decided it’d be best to rent the house for a few years. They’d pay the mortgage and property taxes with the rental income and the extra would go toward Jules’ rent at the facility. Seamus agreed to check in on the renters every month or two to make sure the house wasn’t falling to pieces.
Finally, in early-August, there was a corner room for Jules, with a balcony overlooking the pond. Becca took a break from her summer internship and was driving up. Reva rented a moving van. Seamus was coming over in an hour to help load up the boxes.
Jules sat on his deck chair, observing two magpies in conversation. Amidst all the cleaning up and the organizing, Jules found the printout of the affirmations Reva had sent him a year ago. He hadn’t finished. Jules sipped his dark roast and put his mug down. He’d circled the ones he’d contemplated.
21. I look forward to a happy bright future.
Jules wasn’t looking forward or backward. His future would be whatever it would be for however long he had left. Maybe five years. He knew his mind was slipping away. He knew the present would be messy and the past would become even cloudier. Finally, he was glad to be moving to a place that could support him.
22. I am safe.
That was the idea. In this new place, Jules recognized he would be safer. His confusion would be contained.
23. I inhale the good and exhale the bad.
Jules took a long breath into his lungs. He imagined his lungs filling with vibrant colors. A swirl of emerald and azure and indigo. He exhaled and imagined gray smoke, like the exhaust pipe of a dump truck.
24. I will be Okay.
Jules wasn’t afraid of dying. He was afraid of how he might die. He was afraid of losing his connections to Reva and Seamus and the girls. Afraid he wouldn’t know them at the end.
25. I am prepared and ready for this situation.
Jules thought, prepared for the move? Sure. Prepared to die? No. He thought the only people who were prepared to die were in the military or organized crime. Jules couldn’t conceive of a civilian who would say they were fully ready for the great unknown. Heaven, hell or nothing at all. How could anyone say there were prepared for death?
Seamus arrived and rang the doorbell. Soon, all the boxes would be out of the house and they’d be disassembling the beds.