Michael's Story

Chapter 39

After resting a bouquet against the pier tombstone, Michael rose from the squatted position and stood tall. Glowering back at Michael was the estimated date of his father's death. It was a heart-shattering reminder that the casket six feet below the stone was empty. Rage festered inside Michael, making him wonder if his father's remains would ever be found.

Since the day of Jose's funeral, Michael had only been to his father's gravesite less than a handful of times -- this would make his third visit. Unlike Antonio, forgiveness for Jose was becoming more accessible for Michael before his death. So, denying grief wasn't why Michael struggled to pay his respects to Jose's burial site.

What kept Michael so distant was knowing that Jose was never laid to rest. In recent times, Antonio had been coming to terms with their father's death. He would visit the site every holiday and sometimes spontaneously. Antonio seemed to have finally made peace with it, but it was the opposite for Michael.

Deep down, Michael wished Jose was still alive. He hated that Jose could never redeem himself from his tumultuous reputation. However, every opportunity that Michael had to tell Jose that he forgave him and he still loved him, he let it slip through his fingers. Jose died a horrible death without knowing if his sons still loved him.

Empathy struck Michael across the heart, putting himself in Jose's shoes. Between himself and Antonio, Michael was more likely to adopt Jose's philandering ways. Then, Michael realized that if Jose deserved to be condemned, should he ever turn out how his father did, then Michael would be judged harshly as well. The fear that he'd inherited his father's sexual impulsiveness closed him off from commitment.

As that thought dragged into his mind, Michael gazed at Junie, his emotional crutch for the day. She had that look on her face, a morose one that she'd tried to cover with an unconvincing grin. Junie was trying to keep her composure while supporting Michael in plain sight.

The longer Michael bore his eyes into Junie, the future with Junie flashed before him: marriage, children, dying old together. He wanted all of what their love had to offer. Faith warmed his heart as he focused on the face of the first woman he'd loved. Within Michael, it triggered a sincerity and deep gratitude for Junie.

A quick thought of comparison restored the momentum; no woman would ever be worth destroying the greatness that lie ahead for their relationship. Junie, her genuineness, and even the fact that she was there with Michael at that moment, was priceless. Losing Junie would mean losing everything he had waiting for him.

Standing before her, Michael cupped the nape of her neck and reassuringly invited her to rest her head on him. He wrapped her in his arms, and they stayed there awhile. Michael hoped he was transmitting every ounce of love he felt for her. When he finally pulled away, he curled both index fingers under her chin and lifted her head to look into her eyes.

"Let me know if this is too much for you. We can leave right now," Michael spoke to her.

"Take as much time as you need," Junie replied.

The look on Junie's face told it all. Michael couldn't help the feeling that they both needed a break from the trials of life. Creating a space where they were both safe and at peace with each other was necessary. From this day forward, he would ensure that Junie saw happier days.

"We've been here long enough. We can go." Michael turned Junie into the crook of his elbow, and they began walking.

Ambling the way back to the car, they remained close. Michael would glance down at Junie every few seconds to see if she was okay. Junie didn't bother to acknowledge him, but Michael knew she knew he was concerned. With another glimpse at Junie, Michael just had to say something else.