A Song for Julia

and in an odd way, felt betrayed. Maybe if they’d done the therapy thing ten years earlier, I would have had a very different life.
    We were nearing the airport. He took the turnoff for Lufthansa. “I don’t know if it’s too late for you to forgive us.”
    “I don’t either, Dad. But I promise … I promise I’ll try.”
    Two hours later, I was boarding my flight east.

    A Song for Julia (Crank)
    “Any news?” I whispered, when Mom came back. I whispered because Sean was stretched across the three seats next to me, snoring.
    She shook her head. “He’s stable. But still in a coma.” She sat down.
    “You look exhausted,” I said. “Maybe you should go back to the hotel and get some sleep, then come back.”
    She took a deep breath. “Not yet,” she said.
    I took her hand. “We’ll get through this.”
    She squeezed my hand back. “We will. I’m a lot stronger than I used to be, you know.”
    Sean stirred in his seat, then slowly sat up.
    I leaned back and closed my eyes. The last twenty-four hours had gone by like a flash, and some of it was surreal. A man from the State Department had shown up, met with the notification team, and not long after that, took our pictures and left. At six P.M. on Christmas day, we left for the airport, where another man from the State Department met us with new passports. Julia had booked us on an overnight flight to Germany. On arrival, we’d been picked up by a guy from the American consulate, who whisked us from Frankfurt to Ramstein Air Base in just a little over an hour. The countryside here was covered in snow, and as we passed towns and villages, more snow was falling. I couldn’t help but think how incredible it was that Julia had done this for us.
    We’d been here for hours, waiting. Dad had been out running in morning formation with his platoon when he collapsed. They rushed him to the medics, who managed to stabilize him, and then they’d flown him out by chopper to the nearest hospital facility, and finally, here. That’s why he didn’t call on Christmas Eve. He was already on a flight here.
    The doctors told us when we arrived that it was a matter of time now. They couldn’t give a clear prognosis. They did a triple heart bypass, as major a surgery as you can get. Now he was stable, but there was no way to know when … or if … he would wake up.
    I looked at my mom, and couldn’t help but think it would be such a tragedy for all of us, but especially her, to lose him now, just when our family was coming back together.
    Sean, as abrupt as always, asked our mother, “If Dad dies, will you stay with me?”
    Mom put her arm around him and said, “I’m not going anywhere, Sean. I promise.”
    His eyes crawled around the room, everywhere but on us. I could tell he was struggling to put something into words. He looked at me, then at her, and said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be better for you. I’m sorry I’m broken.”
    Her eyes went red with sudden tears, and she said, “Sean, you’re not broken.”
    He looked away. “Dad said you tried to kill yourself.”
    She nodded, slowly, and said, “Sean … that’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault really. I just didn’t know how to cope with … with life.”
    I was tense, afraid. Sean could be so unpredictable. Faced with something like this, he could just as easily curl up with a book, or have a meltdown that would bring hospital security running. I took a sharp breath, watching his expression for signs of anger.
    He stood up and started pacing. Not a good sign. Then he turned around and faced her, and said, “Maybe we can help you. Me and Crank.”
    I exhaled and closed my eyes.
    “You can,” she said. “And maybe I can help you, too. Sean … I know I was gone a long time. I had to learn to live again. I’ve spent so long in therapy that I hardly remember what it was like before. We have to learn to be a family again. But I promise you—both of you—I’m not going anywhere. Ever again.”
    Sean nodded his head. He was forcing himself to look her in the face, his eyes slowly turning toward her. Then he said, “I’m glad you came home.”
    She sniffed, and said, “Would you be upset if I hugged you?”
    He shook his head, and she stood, and they wrapped their arms around each other.
    Then my eyes shifted from my mom to the hallway. Because walking down the hallway, hair a mess, wearing old dungarees and a t-shirt, was Julia.
    My breath caught. She was checking doorways as