Page 2 of Finding Hope

He was failing his family and he didn’t know what to do anymore. If he wasn’t sad, then he was pissed off and mean. Hell, it was starting to affect his job as a police officer and if he didn’t watch it, he’d lose the career he loved. “What do I do, Alex?”

Jonathon stared blankly at the ceiling. Every night, he talked to her, waiting for some sort of response. Trying desperately to remember the sound of her voice. That was the first thing to fade and he was struggling.

Sometimes he’d put in home movies, crying while he watched his beautiful wife dance around like a goofball and sing badly to their daughter. One of his favorites was the video they shot of Tessa’s eighteenth birthday party. Alex had made Tessa a pretty pink dress that made her cry when she slipped it on. They made her favorite foods and a chocolate cake with lots of pink frosting.

Tessa held Josie, who was two at the time, while they sang happy birthday to her. Josie helped her blow out the candles and his sweet sister cried as Alex came and hugged her. It had been a long time since she’d had birthday cake or presents. They didn’t have a lot of money so they gave her some books that Alex had picked up from a used bookstore. She’d hugged them to her chest, the unshed tears making her eyes look bright.

He had watched from where he sat on the edge of the bed as Tessa told his wife that it was the best birthday she’d ever had. That night in bed, Alex had cried and cried knowing what he and Tessa endured at the hands of their evil father. She’d never hesitated when Jonathon told her his plans to move Tessa in with them. Instead, she prepared a room for her and welcomed her with open arms.

“Baby, I miss you so fucking much,” he whispered. Closing his eyes, he let exhaustion take him under.

***

Jonathon pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex after his shift at the station. He was pissed off because his supposed best friend and his sergeant had staged an intervention, so to speak. When he was done with his shift, he was clocking out when his sergeant, Mitch Williams, followed by Hunter, asked Jonathon to come into his office. He knew that lately he’d been short-tempered and a bit of an asshole, but he didn’t take it out on anyone but his co-workers, which of course wasn’t right, but at least he wasn’t a dick on the streets.

“Have a seat, Jonathon.” He sat down and Hunter followed suit, sitting beside him. “How are things going? How are Josie and Tessa doing?”

“Uh, things are going fine, I guess. Tessa’s good. She’s working at a bookstore now and she loves it. Josie starts kindergarten soon and she’s real excited about it. What’s going on?”

“Jonathon, we’re worried about you. It’s like you’re just going through the motions. If you’re not yelling at someone, you’re not talking and let’s face it, you look like shit. Are you sleeping? Eating?” Mitch leaned against his desk in front of Jonathan as he kept fucking talking. “We all loved Alex. She’d hate to see you checking out like this.”

Jonathon rose from his seat, his defenses up. “Do not talk to me about her. I’m fine.”

“Brother, you’re not. Tessa’s worried about you. She said all you do is sit in your room and watch old home movies and stare at old pictures. How do you think that is going to affect Josie? She needs her dad. She may not fully understand what happened to her mom, but it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t feel it. Fuck, man, you need to talk to someone.” Hunter placed his hand on Jonathon’s shoulder. “Think about it, man. Most of the time when someone has cancer there’s time to prepare and to deal, but shit, man. She was gone in six months. There was no way for you to be prepared for that. You need to talk to someone.”

Mitch handed him a pamphlet for grief counseling.

The burning behind Jonathon’s eyes started up again and he tried to push it back. He knew he was fucking up. The first few months after Alex passed away, Josie would cry out for her momma in the night. Was it Jonathon who comforted her? No, because he was selfish, and buried in his own grief. His poor sister did. Every. Time. She never complained, she never rode him about his shit. Instead she cooked, cleaned, and raised his daughter so he could mourn his wife.

Jonathon was tired of hurting so deeply. Most days it was a struggle to get up in the morning. He looked down at the pamphlet in his hand. “I-I’ll call. I’ll go talk to someone.”

“Son, that makes me incredibly happy. You know you never took time off after Alex passed. I want you to take a week. Call and ask for Pete. He’s expecting your call.” Mitch grabbed Jonathon’s shoulder. “We’re doing this because we care.”

Jonathon shook Mitch’s hand and walked out of the office. He felt Hunter walk up beside him. “How pissed at me are you? You know Tessa’s really worried about you, right?”

“Why didn’t she tell me?”

“Because she loves you and knows you’re hurting.”

Jonathon hung his head, realizing he’d screwed things up badly.

Climbing out of his car, he made his way up the stairs to their apartment. He heard music coming through the door. When he stepped inside, the sight in front of him warmed his heart. Tessa was spinning Josie round and round and then they did this weird shimmy, shake thing. When Tessa finally noticed him, she froze, like she was caught doing something she shouldn’t be. It was almost like she felt guilty. “Um, hey Jonathon.”

He pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole. I’m gonna get help.”

His sister buried her face in his neck as she began to cry. It was his fault and he was going to fix it. He kissed her cheek and then picked up his daughter, hugging her tight. Jonathon would get help. He would be there for his sister and his daughter. He had to do this for them.

Chapter Two

Four Years Later

Shannon

Shannon carried a box of vodka and tequila bottles through the backroom and out into the bar. Her parents had been the owners of O’Tool’s Bar and Grill since she was a baby. Shannon, her sister Mary, and their baby brother Michael had all worked there since they were old enough. They had the best time working there, and most of the customers were regulars who were like family.

When Shannon got permission to get a cochlear implant by her parents’ insurance when she was fifteen, the regulars in the bar raised money to help cover the part insurance wouldn’t pay for. She’d lost her hearing when she was just four years old due to a high fever. Her parents began the process of Shannon and her siblings learning American Sign Language right away, and now her sister Mary taught ASL.

Growing up profoundly deaf obviously had its challenges. Shannon had always been able to talk, but had tried not to do it around anyone she didn’t know. Kids were cruel when she was younger and always assumed she was slow because of the way her voice sounded.

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