Unforgettable

Chapter 2
Jen signed her bill and got ready to leave. Hanging around for an evening with
Doug was not going to happen. And she did  have a rehearsal in the morning—
not that an early start time had ever impeded her evening activities in the past.
“Hang on a sec. Look, Jen, karaoke’s about to start. Go on. Sing. Remember way
back one Christmas in Woodhaven…?”
Oh, God. Don’t go there…don’t go back to a time when happy endings
beckoned. When she used to look as eager and hopeful as Doug did right now!
Would it be easier to sing something and put an end to all this nonsense? As a
kaleidoscope of titles flashed through her mind, she smiled her herself. Perfect.
She’d send him a musical message.
“If you’re sure you want a song from me, okay. But don’t complain afterwards.”
Escaping the booth, she quickly made her way to the emcee. He worked the gig
every weekend and knew her.
“Jennifer Delaney! Lucky us,” he greeted her, handing her the mic and the song
list. “What’s on for tonight?”
She scanned the list. “Right there,” she said, pointing at Gloria Gaynor’s name.
“Let’s get the place hopping.”
The man’s eyes widened. “Okay with me, sweetheart. Nail it.” He turned toward
the diners. “To start the evening off, we have one of Boston’s own, one of our
regulars — and I think she’s ready to rock the house!” With a flourish, he handed
the mic to her. She grasped it as though she were in a concert arena, twirled and
waved at the audience.
“Ready?” Their noise assured her. She nodded at the emcee. “Let’s go.”
The piano chords echoed, her voice accompanied them. I Will Survive….  And
she took the crowd through the heroine’s story. How the boyfriend tried to hurt
her by leaving. And then the outrage of him showing up again, uninvited. But, I

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Will Survive.
It was only when she reached the end that her personal lightbulb blazed,
illuminating the truth she’d hidden so well. She, too, still had a lot of love to
give and to share. It flowed through her with promise and warmth. Doug Collins
could no longer block the feelings she’d held frozen in place, preventing her
from reaching for a full life. Only she had that power. Perhaps he’d actually done
her a favor by showing up. He didn’t own her heart, not anymore.
She held the mic while the crowd applauded and whistled. She didn’t hear them.
“What a feeling,” she whispered. “I’m finally free to be…me.”
##
“That was quite a performance,” said Doug, quietly. “Message received, but I’ll
walk you home anyway. It’s a long trek to Beacon Hill.”
Beacon Hill? She’d moved out of her sister’s home three years ago. Her
decision. A big decision. But she had grown up since the tragedy, no longer that
frightened sixteen-year-old girl caught in a whirlwind of anger, fear, and…grief.
A girl who had searched for hope and finally the courage to spread her wings—a
little bit.
She stared at Doug, who had started to leave the table, glad he was clueless.
“No, thanks. I’m quite capable of making my own way.”
“I know you’re capable…”
“Good luck with your apartment hunting.” She waved him back, headed toward
the exit, then called out over her shoulder, “Why don’t you try Cambridge or the
Seaport?”
Her cell rang as soon as she hit the street.
“Mike! Hi—"
“Lisa’s water broke,” he began without preamble. “The baby’s coming earlier
than expected, and Emily’s at a rehearsal. Can you get here right away to stay
with Bobby?” His voice was tight, his words rushed. Her brother-in-law
definitely did not sound like Mike Brennen, confident quarterback of the Boston

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Riders, a position he’d held for ten years. He sounded like a worried husband.
“Why don’t you all go straight to the hospital,” Jen said, “and I’ll meet you
there. Saves time. Seems like the baby can’t wait to make an appearance.”
“Great idea. See you in a few.”
Walking was not an option now. Uber. She needed Uber. She searched her phone
apps, made the call and paced outside the restaurant.
Five minutes could be an eternity. She barely noticed the noise when customers
entered or left the place. She barely heard the karaoke music. She did recognize
a familiar male voice, however, call her name.
“Jen…what are you still doing here? I thought…
“Change of plans, and look…here’s my ride.” She charged inside the car without
waiting for driver to open her door.
“Brigham and Women’s—you know where that is, right? And step on it!” She
slammed the door shut and looked outside to see a puzzled Doug gazing after the
cab.
##
Two hours later, after returning with little Bobby to her sister’s house, she
cuddled with her nephew, reading the three-year-old just one more story while
his eyelids drifted closed. She inhaled the clean, little-boy aroma of baby
shampoo and snuggled in for a goodnight kiss.
“Sweet baby,” she whispered. “Your Auntie Jen loves you very much.”
She heard a contented sigh, then another, and tiptoed from the room, leaving the
door open. Taking one more glance, she chuckled at the sight of his nerf football
under one arm and his favorite worn-out blankie under the other. At the end of
the hall, she descended to the main floor of the brick Tudor, the home of her
teenage and college days, the roomy suite on the top floor perfect for the
adolescent girl she had been.
According to Mike, the Beacon Street house would always be home to Lisa’s

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siblings. In time, he’d become the legal guardian along with Lisa, to Jen’s
younger sister and brothers. And Jen had been Lisa’s right-hand gal from the
beginning. Her twin brothers were still in college with two years to go, and
Emily, sweet, talented Emily, had just turned eighteen and had taken over Jen’s
suite.
She heard the sound of a key in the front door and glanced at her watch just as
the door opened.
“Jenny! I didn’t know you were coming tonight.” Emily rushed forward, violin
case in hand, and hugged her sister, then looked around. “Where is everyone?”
“Bobby’s sleeping upstairs, maybe dreaming about his new baby sister. Come
into the kitchen.”
But Em’s complexion had paled. “It’s too soon. Isn’t it?”
“Just a little. Mike said everything’s fine. The baby is just…just petite.” Jen
pressed her lips together. “She’s in an incubator, but all her systems are working.
Breathing on her own. No tubes.”
“Oh, that’s good. Right?”
“Yeah, that’s very good. She just needs time to grow. And I need you to stay
home tomorrow morning with Bobby-boy. Mike’ll be at the hospital with Lisa,
and I have a mandatory rehearsal. The concert’s in two weeks.”
It seemed like a year before Emily responded. “I can change my practice time
tomorrow.” The teen paused, looked at Lisa with shiny eyes and quivering lips.
“Why do bad things always happen in this family? Why is everything so hard?
Even Lisa’s little baby has…has…to struggle.”
Stepping close to her sister, Jen wrapped her arms around her. “Every family has
bad stuff, Em. But we Delaneys are tough. The baby, too. They’re naming her
Brianna. Do you know what that name means?”
Emily shook her head.
“Strong. It means strong. Brianna Grace will be as strong as we are.”

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“Oh-h, she has mom’s name, too.” With that, Emily took out her violin, and Jen
knew exactly what to expect. Amazing Grace.  The prayer her protégé sister
played every night before bed to connect her to their mother.
“I’m not strong,” whispered Emily, tucking the instrument under her chin.
“Except when I’m playing. When I’m with Mozart, when I’m lost in that
world…nothing can hurt me.”
Jen’s breath whooshed out, and she clasped her sister’s shoulders. “You—and I
—are stronger than we think, Emily. That’s what I’ve learned. We are as strong
as we need to be. Your world—even without Mozart—would be fine.”