Just Ask Them How They Made It

Hey! Sorry it's been so long. I had to finish school for the semester before I could post anything else. Well, here it is. Chapter 28! The final chapter! Enjoy and remember to review!

Love From,

May

Chapter Twenty-Eight: A Prayer for Malcolm Ward

Bridget heard Juliet groan next to her as the plane came to a full stop at the airport.

"It's ok, sweetie. We're done. The plane's landing," Bridget said.

"I don't care," said Juliet, pulling her earphones out of her head. "That was the most annoying plane ride I've ever been on. I hope the one going to Cardiff isn't nearly as bad."

Andrew, Bridget, Juliet, and the twins had been on the plane for over an hour and a half, which was nothing compared to the flight that they would have to endure when going to Cardiff, so Juliet was in for something. But, it wasn't like she had never flown before, so Bridget had to wonder what the problem was this time. She, for one, hadn't had any problems and she was just a month away from giving birth. The doctor had advised her not to fly, of course, but this was a special trip she had to make. They were on their way to visit Malcolm's sister in South Carolina. Portia and Regan had, miraculously for them, been wonderful on the trip and were sound asleep in their car seats.

"It'll be fine, Juliet," her father said as the captain came on the air for the all-clear for passengers to get off. "You just need to learn not to look down whenever you're in the air. I think that's your problem."

"I hate flying," the girl muttered as she stood up.

"Next time, you can take the aisle seat, so you won't have to look down," Bridget offered as she stood up, which she had a little bit of trouble doing. Andrew helped her up and grabbed the sleeping twins' car seats.

After settling Juliet and the twins in a hotel room for the day, Andrew and Bridget took a taxi through Columbia and down to the suburbs. In all, it took them about thirty minutes to find Nellie Ward Sorenson's house, when they came across an old apartment complex nearly hidden by woods.

"This is the address," Andrew said as the taxi crunched the gravel to a stop. After paying the driver a generous tip, he helped Bridget delicately out of the car and put his arm around her. Bridget put one hand around her stomach to support the baby sleeping in her womb. As they walked, she got a clear view of the complex.

It was an old complex, made of brick, but elegantly preserved, with flowers on every doorstep. According to the directions that Mrs. Sorenson gave them, her address was Building One, Apartment 395.

"Are you sure you'll be ok with walking up the steps?" asked Andrew as they came to the stairs.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Bridget responded with a smile. If she did happen to go into labor, what could they do apart from call an ambulance? She took his hand and they climbed to the top floor, Bridget feeling rather uneasy for the first time about meeting Malcolm's sister. On the phone, she had seemed nice, very willing to meet them both, but still. Bridget wasn't sure how close she even was to her brother. Were they doing the right thing in giving her all that money?

Andrew knocked on the door, and a young boy answered. He was around six or seven and had a head full of dreadlocks.

"Mom!" he shouted, "they're here!"

He had evidently been informed of Andrew and Bridget's coming. However, he did not invite them in. Instead, he closed the door promptly and left them standing on the porch. A few moments passed and a woman opened the door, looking embarrassed that her son would do something so impolite as to leave guests out on the porch.

She was a very pretty woman with dark skin and long black hair that she held back in a braid. "Hello, and sorry about that," she said, smiling. "You must be the Martins. Andrew and Bridget, correct?"

"Yes," Andrew replied, holding out his hand for her to shake. She took it. "You must be Nellie."

"Yes, nice to meet you," she said. She took Bridget's hand. "Please come in."

The inside of the apartment was quaint and cozy with the faint smell of an ocean breeze air freshener. The walls were covered in a rosy pattern that made Bridget feel at home, along with dozens of photographs. The little boy who had opened the door was perched on the armchair watching what appeared to be Spongebob on the television.

"Brian, could you go to your room and watch that, please?" Mrs. Sorenson asked politely.

"But, Mom!" the little boy whined.

"Sweetie, please. I'm talking to these people. I want it to be quiet." She said.

Brian rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. "Whatever, Mom." He hopped up out of the chair and turned off the television.

"You can sit down here," Mrs. Sorenson said, gesturing to the couch. It was red to match the walls. "Would you like something to drink?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Andrew said as he sat down. Bridget followed suit.

"Me, too," she said.

Mrs. Sorenson nodded and sat down in the armchair. "So, you knew Malcolm? On the phone, you said you were his boss?" She addressed the last question to Andrew.

"Yes," he said. "He worked for me for a short time, but he was probably the best network specialist we ever had."

"He was also my NA sponsor," Bridget explained just as she started to get emotional. "And was the best thing to ever happen to me, really. He got me sober, and it turned my whole life around." Tears came to her eyes as she thought about everything he had done for her. Andrew took her hand and caressed it.

"We wanted to give you something," he said and pulled his wallet out from his pocket and leafed through it until he found what he was looking for. It was the rest of the money he had given to Malcolm the night he had told him to leave town. "This is Malcolm's last paycheck."

Mrs. Sorenson took what was handed to her, her face aghast. "A million dollars!" she shouted. "Are you serious?" She had a look of absolute shock on her face.

"Of course," said Bridget, nodding. "You can put it in a college fund for your kids, you can give to charity, if you'd like, but we know Malcolm would want you have it either way. How close to him were you?"

"Well," Mrs. Sorenson shook her head. "We were very close, up until about five years ago, when he stopped talking to me. I think he was ashamed of all the drugs that he'd gotten into. He knew our parents would disapprove, had they been alive, and I guess he assumed that I did, too." She sniffed as tears came to her eyes. "But, I loved him. I really did. I tried to contact him, but he never responded. I wasn't even sure if he ever got sober or not. I didn't even…" she burst into tears. "I didn't even know he was missing until the FBI asked me to give a DNA sample."

She tried to contain her sobs, but covered her face with her hands. Bridget walked over and put a hand on her shoulder.

"We loved him, too," she said. "That's why we wanted to give you the money. We know he would want you to have it."

"But," Mrs. Sorenson shook her head. "I never got to tell him how much I loved him. He never gave me the chance. He was so ashamed of what he'd become that he just shut me out."

"I know the feeling," Bridget said. Siobhan had done the same thing. "I've been shut out, too. But, I knew Malcolm. Wherever his soul is, he loves you." Unlike Siobhan, Bridget at least knew that was true of Malcolm.

Mrs. Sorenson nodded and wiped her eyes. "Thank you," she said. "I really appreciate it, and this will help my family out a lot."

"Are you a teacher as well?" asked Andrew.

"Yes," sniffed Mrs. Sorenson. "I teach English at Summit Hill High School. Teachers actually run in our family," she explained. "Our parents and grandparents were also teachers. My husband kind of ruined the tradition. He's an architect." She let out a small laugh, wiped her eyes again, and got up from the chair and headed over to the fireplace, where she took a photograph off the mantel.

"This is a picture of Malcolm and me on graduation day," she said. "We both graduated from Brown at the same time, even though I'm a year older. It took me a little longer than it did him, obviously. But, we were happy when we both finally got our degrees."

Bridget smiled and sat back down next to her husband. "That sounds wonderful," she said.

They spent the rest of the evening discussing Malcolm's life and his achievements, which were more than Bridget ever knew. Malcolm wasn't just a sponsor, he was a pure saint. It was then that Bridget knew she had to be the same. She had to do something worthwhile for Malcolm, for Gemma, and for Shay. She just didn't know what yet.

December 31, 2012

"Come on, London," shouted Tessa. "You were such an idiot, having packed all that crap. We're only here for a week."

"Really," said Andrea, who had managed to smuggle three gallons of lemonade into her suitcase. "No one needs five suitcases for just a week!"

"I do," said London. "I had no idea how much clothes to bring. Plus, I have to have my essentials."

"Well, tell that to Juliet's mom whenever she tries to lug all your shit up the stairs, because I'm sure not doing it for you," said Tessa. "Come on. We need to find Juliet. She's gonna be wondering where we are."

"But, I'm still waiting on two more bags," whined London.

Juliet had invited her three best friends to spend New Years with her family in Wales, so the three of them had just spent eight hours on an airplane and were now at baggage claim. This was a first flight for Tessa, who had never been on a plane before. It had been that bad of a ride, except for the disgusting food and one of the stewards who kept making rape eyes at her. Ok, so maybe it was bad. Truthfully, she was just happy to be on the ground.

"They're probably lost," said Andrea, rolling her eyes in answer to London's question. "You'll never find them."

"Yes, I will," said London stubbornly. "I just have to keep—oh look! There's one!" She ran around the conveyor belt and grabbed the giant suitcase with the pink bunnies on it. "And there's the other one!" Another suitcase with pink bunnies. "Now all's I need is one of those trolleys."

Tessa rolled her eyes. "No, you don't," she said, and grabbed one of the bags herself. Andrea took the other one. The other three of London's bags were either slung over both her shoulders or being dragged by the wheels by her free hand, which, obviously, wasn't very free.

"Where is Juliet?" the petite girl asked as they attempted to walk, but with London lagging behind, they were not so successful.

"She'll be at the end of the terminal," said Andrea. "Now, come on."

London continued to stumble all the way up until they reached the escalator, where she threw down her bags with a loud thump. It was the only moment of rest she received until the escalator ended and it was time to walk again.

"She said she'd be holding a sign," said Tessa after they had gone through customs and were, judging by all the exit signs, approaching the end of their journey.

"Why would we need a sign?" asked London.

Well, that questioned answered itself as soon as a throng of people appeared behind the barrier in front of them. Just searching out Juliet's face would be impossible.

Tessa looked for a sign, but didn't see anything. That is, until Andrea shouted out Juliet's name. "There she is! Juliet!" and started running towards the crowd.

Sure enough, as they followed Andrea, both Tessa and London could see a giant sign in the air that said "Tessa, London, and Andrea" on it.

"Juliet!" shouted London, hobbling along with her bags. Juliet pushed her way to the front of the mob and gave London an awkward hug over the divider.

"Hey you guys!" she said as she took Andrea in her arms, and then Tessa. "Welcome to Wales."

"Thanks so much for inviting us," Tessa said. "I've never been on an airplane before."

"I can't wait to meet your new little brother!" shouted London ecstatically as she dropped all of her bags on the ground and hopped over the divider. She grabbed her bags from the opposite side. "Come on, guys. We don't have to wait in line."

"I can't wait to meet him, either," said Andrea as she, too, hopped over the barrier. "That pic you posted with him and the reindeer was so cute."

"What's his name again?" asked Tessa as she did the same. She couldn't for the life of her remember what his name was. She felt stupid, but she knew it was probably due to her messed up brain.

"David Malcolm," said Juliet, smiling. She had been so proud of her baby brother ever since his birth almost a month ago that her Facebook posts had nothing but him in them, and Tessa still couldn't remember his name.

"That's so British," said London as she continued to lug her bags. "Especially Malcolm."

"How is Malcolm a British name?" asked Andrea.

"Well, you know…" she grunted as she lifted her bag over her head. "Malcolm McDowell, for one. He's British."

Andrea rolled her eyes. "So, how's your family?"

"Great," said Juliet. "Daddy got a job as an accountant and Mom's taking online college courses. She wants to be a psychiatrist and help addicts."

"That's awesome," said Tessa. "I wish I could do that."

"Yeah," said Juliet as they came to the end of the building where the revolving doors were waiting for them to exit. "You have to lots of talent, and I think she'd be the perfect person."

Once they made it to the taxi outside the airport, Tessa finally got to get a good look at her surroundings. Cardiff was a lot like New York, what with the tall buildings and such. They even passed by, of all things, a Pizza Hut on their way to Juliet's house.

It was a beautiful house, like nothing Tessa had ever lived in, with a garden and two chimneys. It was made of the most beautiful stone she had ever seen.

"Here we are," said Juliet as the taxi came to a stop. Her stepmother appeared at the front door holding a bundle in her arms. As the girls got out, she came closer.

"Hey everybody," she said. "How was your flight?"

"It would have been better had London not been singing Adele the whole way," said Tessa. She went around to the trunk to get her bag. The cab driver popped the trunk and it almost hit her square in the face.

"I like Adele," said London, offended, as got out of the back of the cab. "Plus, I was bored. There was nothing to do. The T.V. broke halfway through the flight."

Mrs. Martin laughed at that and held out the bundle in her arms. Tessa leaned closer to see a beautiful blond baby boy.

"Can I hold him?" Andrea asked as her lemonade-filled suitcase hit the ground with a thud.

"Of course," said Mrs. Martin. "I'll get your bag. Juliet, sweetie, could you get the mail for me, please?"

"Sure, Mommy." Juliet skipped over to the mailbox and looked inside. She pulled out a huge stack of bills.

"There's a letter for me," she said, surprised, as she reached the last piece of paper in the box.

"Who's it from?" Tessa asked curiously as she snuck up behind her friend.

Juliet turned the envelope around. "It's...it's from Ellie Wheaton." She looked up at Tessa in shock, her face pale.

"Don't worry," said Andrea, holding David gently. "She can't hurt you. You're like, three thousand miles away."

"Still," said Juliet. She kept turning the letter over.

"Go on," Mrs. Martin prompted. "Open it. We need to go inside before it rains." Just then, tiny drops began to fall from the sky.

With reluctance, Juliet did as she was told. But, inside the envelope was nothing more than a tiny piece of paper.

"Oh, my gosh," said Andrea, annoyed. "She's such a byotch."

But, Juliet was staring at it intently. "No, wait." she said and looked up. "It says 'I forgive you. Have a Happy New Year.'"

By eleven-fifty eight that night, everyone had settled in, including London, whose suitcases altogether weighed over a hundred pounds. The girls were occupying their time, waiting for the clock to strike twelve, watching Portia and Regan in the spacious living room, and were taking turns bouncing them on their knees. Bridget was putting David to bed. The baby boy was already sound asleep. She smiled at him as she placed him in his crib. Her beautiful baby boy, with her blonde hair and his father's lovely brown eyes. He was everything she could ask for and more.

She heard the nursery door open behind her and she turned to see her husband smiling.

"One more minute," he said as he put his arm around her. "Do you have any resolutions?"

Bridget smiled. "To be an excellent wife and a superb mother."

"I think you've already done that," he said.

She rested her head on his chest and suddenly thought of Siobhan. If there was anything at all she could say to her sister, it would be "Thank you" for giving her such a wonderful life, even if it had never been her intention. Switching with her had turned out to be the best decision she had ever made. She had a family and she had forgiveness. What more could she ask for?

The clock struck twelve and fireworks could be heard in the distance. She looked up at Andrew and sealed his lips with a kiss.

The End