Link: Every Day Is Your Last Title Page and Description

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Sitting in Erica's office reading the printed copy of the finished manuscript, Brooke flipped through the final pages as she read the words, tears filling her eyes at the remembered heartbreak of losing her best friends. Wiping them away, she finally put down the papers.

"Wow!" she exhaled heavily. "That was..." She looked over at her niece and shook her head. "I... I can't believe it! You got all this from those tapes you recorded of me? Erica! Some of those lines were almost verbatim, and I don't mean the ones I told you! How..." Her voice trailed off as she looked at Jack's daughter, unable to formulate the words.

"I listened to your stories over and over, picturing them in my mind." Erica shrugged modestly. "The description and dialog just sort of flowed out from everything you told me about them. It just seemed... natural." She chuckled lightly. "I also did a whole lot of research! Learning Marine Corps slang took months! Did I get it right?"

Biting her lip while she considered the question, Brooke shrugged. "A little heavy at times, but not very noticeably. Some places it shows that you never served, but not so terribly that it's off-putting. I think it shows you wanted to re-create the feeling of it out of respect, not just to sound right."

Sighing, Erica nodded. "I could trim it up if you tell me where. I want this to be as perfect as it can be, Aunt Brooke."

"No." she replied. "Thank you for the compliment, thinking I could improve on what you've done here, but it really does work as a story. Anything more authentic would come off as sounding too real. See?" She flipped back to the beginning chapters. "I love the way you depicted Jack as a kid! It's just the way I always imagined him! I don't know if he was really like that, but I think it's probably pretty close. I guess the only way to know would be to seek out people that were there and ask them."

"I did." Erica said as she stood and slowly paced her office. "I did a bit of searching, using the detective agency that found April for me. Wendy Evans seems to have changed her name or moved or both. I found copies of their Yearbook for the class of eighty-nine, so I know what she looked like, but I couldn't locate her, so..." She shrugged helplessly as she sat down behind her desk.

"Huh." Brooke said as she looked off in the distance. "Well, I can tell you for certain that there was somebody who did those things. The look on Rich's face when he would mention her was authentically loathing."

Nodding in acceptance, Erica sat up. "Unfortunately, there weren't enough details or names of other people that could give an honest account to dig much. I did find Uncle Richard's high school football coach and interviewed him briefly. He was able to corroborate the events that took place on the field after the locker incident, but he never really knew my father very well, other than just as, the way he put it, 'the skinny kid that always hung around with Rich'. He gave me a little more insight into Uncle Richard as a kid, but no one seems to remember much about my father, except you and Mamma. The only ones to even remember him were teachers, and even then only vaguely."

Flipping through the chapters, Brooke stopped and laughed lightly at Erica's description of her own parents' wedding day. "How on earth did you get all the details of that day? I only gave you a rough idea of what we did!"

"Lots of research!" she answered with a tired laugh. "That's why this took so long. I wanted to make sure I got as many details right as I could. I looked up weather on specific dates, made sure I had the right day of the week, when was sunrise and sunset for each location and scene, tons of public records, some old maps, online databases of certain events... you know, research! The rest just came from the natural evolution of the characters. There was also the bartender at the club you went to. I found him, even though the club isn't there anymore. Heck, the casino it was in isn't even there anymore! He remembered you five, though. Vividly!"

She stood and placed the manuscript on Erica's desk. "Well, I don't think you could have done it better if you were there!" She sat back down and shook her head. "OK, I have to ask. How could you write that scene about Jack and Erica's first time? I mean, they're your parents! Wasn't that a little..."

"...creepy?" Erica finished for her. "Yeah, only a lot! But the story wouldn't flow right without it. I tried getting around it with a sort of 'fade to black' writing style, but it felt rushed and failed to capture their depth of feeling for one another. So I just pretended they were only characters in my head and nothing more. The rest was just imagining the natural flow of events and trying not to think about it too much!"

Laughing, Brooke clapped her hands together. "Well, you've got a stronger stomach than I do! I don't think I could write that about my parents!"

Erica laughed with her for a moment before getting serious once more. "So then, I told you when I asked you to help me with this that if you didn't think it was good enough that I wouldn't publish it, just keep it as a family record." Pausing as she closed her eyes and took in a breath, she let it out and asked. "What do you think? Is it good enough?"

Brooke looked away in thought. "I... I don't know, Erica. It's good, don't get me wrong! I'm just..." She sighed as she tried to express her concerns. "I just don't want people that were there to think it's trying to make them look bad, or telling about their lives without asking, you know?"

Sitting behind her desk, Erica flipped through the pages. "Well, I can change the names, make sure nobody is mentioned by their real name. That and publishing it as fiction with notation that it is a work of fiction that is only based on stories told second-hand, yadda, yadda, legalese and all. Would it be alright then?"

Sighing, she looked at Erica. "I suppose so. I guess it would be good to know that at least this much of Jack and Rich would live beyond them; that maybe someone might be helped by the stories of their lives." She paused a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I think they would like that! Especially Jack! God! His ego must be bursting at the thought of it!"

"Well then," Erica said standing and picking up the papers. "I'll send it to final edit and put it out there! If people like it... or not... at least I know I did the best I could. I... I also know that now a little bit of my father and uncle lives in my mind. Now I understand what Mom meant when she said there were so many stories about him that she never got to tell me. It was one of her biggest regrets." She looked at Brooke wistfully. "Thank you for helping me put at least some of that to rest for her!"

Brooke stood and walked around the desk to hug her best friend's daughter. "It was my pleasure, Erica!" Holding it a moment, she pulled away to look at her watch. "Well, I think I need to be getting home soon. Jenny will skin me alive if I'm not there for dinner! I've been gone all weekend and she is not happy about it, but I think she understands. She never got much of a chance to know Jack or your mom, just those few days and the month after your mom had her hysterectomy, but she knows how important Jack was to me."

"Just tell her you were spending some time with Jack and Rich for a while." Erica offered. "I mean, from a certain point of view, you were!"

"Yeah..." she mused. "I guess I was!" Clearing her throat and holding her tears back, she stepped back toward the door. "Oh, give my best to the family for me?"

"I will, Aunt Brooke!" Erica answered dutifully.

"Oh! If you hear from that cousin of yours, tell her to call me sometime? Aunts and godmothers worry! I need to know she's OK."

"Yes, Aunt Brooke!" Erica replied again. "I'll make sure to call more, too!"

Blowing her honorary niece a kiss, Brooke turned and walked out the office door. Making her way out to the street, she climbed into her car and started it, still reminiscing about the years of happiness, love, sadness, fun, tears, laughter, and worry she'd shared with the two men who'd been, and always would be, her best friends. Pulling away from the curb slowly, she drove home almost without thought, guided simply by the desire to be back home in Jenny's arms where she belonged.

Absently, her thoughts wandered. I wonder if Jenny would still like a baby? After all, she's only forty-three, and I'm the same age Jack's parents were when he was born!

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Thank you and may God bless,
Roberta Elder