Come in From the Cold

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Come in From the Cold Page 6

by Tymber Dalton


  Which had really surprised Connor, when he realized how much he wanted to see the guy again.

  Whoa. Chill the fuck out.

  Fortunately, the guy had a busy life and wasn’t too interested in anything more than playing, right now. Even better.

  Perfect, as a matter of fact. Because Connor had hinted a little bit about his own personal situation, including the limitations on his time, and the guy agreed that they could work something out because his own personal time was greatly limited.

  Connor took a long, hot shower and stood there letting the water sluice over him. Despite how he tried not to think about the past, it bled through his mental defenses, seeping in around the edges of his heart.

  It was too easy to remember countless hours spent lying in bed, snuggling and having discussions about everything from anime to movies to music and books.

  It was too easy to contemplate that, as an adult, he’d never felt that kind of connection with anyone. Never had that level of emotional intimacy with anyone. Not even the people he considered his closest friends.

  It was too easy to think about how lonely he was, now that he was alone again in the room.

  It was too easy to…think.

  Dammit.

  So much for his mental vacation.

  Chapter Six

  Douglas had been used to awaking before dawn every morning when he was a priest. He’d had things to do, and morning Mass to prepare for on the mornings he’d held it. On the mornings he hadn’t, he’d used the time for his workout, or for prayer and meditation, depending on his mood and the day’s schedule.

  Always with copious amounts of coffee to consume, because he was anything but a morning person.

  Except a habit was a habit. Even after marrying Mackie, he would awaken early on weekdays to go for a run, or work out, or meditate before work.

  And today, when he awakened before dawn in this strange room that would hopefully soon feel like a second home, temporary though it might be, he knew he wasn’t going back to sleep.

  After, once Mackie re-entered his life, he’d learned to enjoy sleepy, lazy Sunday mornings in bed with her since they both had weekends off. Instead of church they usually spent the time worshipping each other, Douglas happy to lay his hands on her stomach after they made love and talk to their baby.

  With Mackie’s gentle, patient ways, she’d taught him how to fully be of the world again and enjoy it.

  To want to live there.

  To have new things to live for besides the Church and his memories and longings.

  To leave the harsh, self-isolation he’d relegated himself to and come in from the cold, to spend languid evenings curled up in her emotional warmth.

  He’d desperately missed human touch, intimate human contact and interactions, far more than he’d realized.

  She’d held him as he’d grieved Connor, and laughed with him as he’d cried tears of joy over sonogram pictures, or the feel of tiny, growing hands and feet kicking and punching.

  But with Mackie, his life had settled into a sweetly mundane rhythm, predictable. No more horrible pre-dawn mornings, no more late-night calls to rush to a hospital or nursing home or private home to perform last rites.

  No more loneliness.

  Life became a sweet Goldilocks zone of not too early, not too late, but just right.

  Now, as a single father of a newborn, he had quickly learned there was no such thing as a schedule. Not really.

  Zee was the schedule.

  That Sunday morning a little before dawn, he lay in the motel bed with the TV on and the sound turned down, with Zee peacefully sleeping on his chest, and he prayed his way through another decade on his rosary. She’d taken a bottle, and he’d changed her, and now…

  Peace reigned once more.

  He was terrified to fall asleep with her like that, though, scared he might roll over on her. Another reason he knew he couldn’t sleep with her in bed with him.

  Although he looked forward to when she was older, being able to watch TV with her, read books to her, listen to music with her, let her sleep with him when monsters under her bed scared her.

  She would always come first in his life, no matter what. Another vow he’d made, and one he’d damn well keep.

  On the dresser sat Mackie’s urn. She’d wanted to be cremated, no “waste of space” burial for her.

  His practical little atheist.

  She’d told him he was free to do whatever he wanted with her, but he couldn’t bear to let her go. They’d created their wills after finding out she was pregnant with Zee, and he’d also requested cremation.

  He’d wanted to be mixed with her remains and scattered someplace peaceful and serene, like a park somewhere, together forever.

  But all that had changed when he’d lost Mackie decades sooner than he should have.

  It’s not fair.

  Which he knew was a fucking immature whine, but he didn’t care. He gave up Connor for the Church, he gave up the Church for Mackie, they’d lost their son—and then he and Zee lost Mackie.

  How much more do I have to lose?

  Correction—he was afraid to ask that. He knew it was an irrational fear, but he didn’t want to goad God into a “challenge accepted” situation.

  If he lost Zee, he had nothing, and no one.

  She lay warm on his chest, a comforting, sweet weight pinning him to this world, keeping his sanity tucked into his skull.

  He still felt terrified, but he’d fake it until he made it.

  He had no choice.

  * * * *

  Even though Douglas held his amethyst rosary in his right hand, he found he couldn’t keep his mind on praying this morning.

  Not now, since he was here, in Sarasota.

  His mind kept…drifting.

  Specifically, it kept drifting to Connor.

  He knew he should get settled in at work, find an apartment—all of those responsible-adult kind of activities—and only then think about maybe looking up Connor.

  But he was human, and that’s not what he wanted to do.

  What he wanted to do was show up on Connor’s doorstep, fall to his knees, and beg him for forgiveness.

  Even if that’s all he could get from the man after all these years apart.

  Even if Connor wanted to do nothing but swear at him, or slam the door in his face.

  He’d deserve it. Every bit of it.

  Maybe they could at least be friends. It would be a kind of torture, but it’d be worth it to at least have Connor in his life again in that way.

  Or Douglas would finally have the closure he should have given both of them decades ago.

  Zee finally awakened again about an hour later, a little fussy, but understandable. He changed her and prepped another bottle, making a mental note to himself to pick up more cases of water. He didn’t want to use tap water until he was settled somewhere and could put a filter on the tap, or buy one of those filtered pitchers, at the very least.

  Even though at the hospital they’d told him tap water was fine.

  Still, he couldn’t help but think about places like Flint, Michigan. It’d been all over the news up there. Fortunately, he was in a position he could buy bottled water for his daughter.

  Might be one of the few advantages he could give her, but he’d do it.

  Depending on what kind of apartment he found, he might be able to save up enough for a down payment on a house in a year or two…or five. Ironically, he didn’t have much of a credit record. He’d purchased his SUV, paid off his student loans, but he hadn’t needed much in the way of credit over the years.

  His housing had been taken care of. He’d received stipends for food and other expenses. The church paid for his utilities, except for the cable package he’d upgraded to so he could watch hockey. And he’d paid the difference for that out of his salary. He’d made a habit of living sparsely, lightly. If he didn’t have it, he didn’t need it. He’d wanted to save money for retirement, not be scrambli
ng at some future point like many retired priests ended up doing.

  Then Mackie had arrived.

  And now, Zee.

  With the bottle made, he held Zee and fed her, trying to clear his mind and remain there, with her, and nowhere else.

  Except…

  The invisible pull that had always tugged at his heart felt stronger now than ever.

  The pull of Him.

  He stared into Zee’s face as she fed, and he wondered if Connor would think she was as beautiful as he did. If Connor was single, if he’d be okay with a baby in his life. At one time they’d both wanted kids, but had thought it’d never happen for them, for obvious reasons.

  They’d wanted to get married, even though, back then, it wasn’t possible.

  A lot had happened over the past couple of decades, however. There were options not previously available.

  What if Connor rejected him solely because he was a dad?

  Although he suspected that wouldn’t be the kind of “fatherhood” Connor might reject him over.

  * * * *

  Only after Zee was soundly asleep again did Douglas tuck her into her portable crib and risk taking a shower. Sure, he’d need another shower before the day was over, but this was part of his routine and Doyle and Niall had both told him he needed to do things for him. That he wasn’t neglecting his child by carving out tiny pockets from his day to engage in self-care.

  He had hooked up the baby monitor and brought the unit into the bathroom with him so he could hear her if she awakened. As the water beat on his face, on the unfamiliar and thickening scruff of beard and mustache, he once again considered shaving and decided not to.

  He didn’t have the energy. He needed to save that for unpacking and everything he needed to accomplish today.

  He was supposed to text Niall this morning and coordinate with him about meeting them at their house. Niall had insisted on them helping him with the unloading process. If Douglas didn’t have Zee with him, he could handle the unloading on his own, needing the physical exertion.

  But Etsu had volunteered to watch her for him today while he did that and returned the trailer and went to explore apartment options. He’d also need to hit a grocery store. The room had a small efficiency kitchen, and he didn’t want to keep eating out. He needed to get back into healthy habits.

  Douglas also knew if Etsu was watching Zee for him that there was one errand he would undertake in secret before going to pick her up that evening.

  In fact, that was the only reason he was willing to accept Niall’s help today, to finish unloading sooner and allow him a little alone time.

  It was difficult not to get his hopes up, no matter how much he chastised himself about that.

  Please give me strength today, Lord. I am not strong enough to stay away from Connor. I need him. I need him more than I should, and I love him as much as I ever did. May his heart not have hardened against me, even though I know I’d totally deserve it if he hates me. May he still hold feelings in his heart for me after all this time. And if he’s not available, please give me the strength to gracefully walk away without embarrassing the fuck out of myself in the process. Amen.

  He puttered around the room until eight, when he texted Niall. He was assured any time after noon was fine, that they were babysitting for a friend who’d be picking up their child by noon, leaving their afternoon completely free, and he could come by to drop Zee off.

  Perfect.

  He also ended his self-imposed Facebook posting ban. First, though, he logged into his account, added Mackie as his wife, and then switched to her account to accept the change on her end. They’d left that off both their accounts, just in case anyone friendly with her ex might be watching.

  Then, from her account, he posted an update that took him the better part of an hour, many attempts and corrections, and what felt like gallons of tears to compose.

  This is Douglas, Mackenzie’s husband. I’m sorry to have to post like this, and that it’s taken me so long, but it’s been a rough several weeks. Some of you already know this information, and I sincerely apologize for keeping the rest of you in the dark.

  While we kept it secret on here because we didn’t want to post until our baby was born and safely in our arms, Mackenzie gave birth to our daughter, Mackenzie Leanne Koenig (Zee), just over three weeks ago.

  Unfortunately, it was a long, difficult labor and delivery, twenty-four hours. They were about to do a C-section when Zee finally made her way into the world. What we didn’t know was that Mackie had blood clots that had formed in her chest, and which caused a pulmonary embolism that killed her just a few hours after Zee’s birth.

  I had left naming our daughter up to Mackie, because I loved her, and I was her “sweet, dumb guy.” (Yes, it’s okay for those of you who want to smile or laugh to do so. She’d want that.) And because you who knew us together know I could never deny her anything. She was my life, my world, the center of my universe, as many of you were well aware.

  She’d narrowed the choices down to five names she loved, but she wanted to wait to hold our daughter before naming her. But she died before she could, so I took it upon myself to name our daughter after her beautiful, sweet mother.

  Mackie had always dreamed of being a mother, and I am truly blessed to have not only been her friend since college, but that she was my wife for the past fourteen months, and that she is the mother of my child. Some of you know we suffered great loss early on, with a miscarriage, our son. But I take comfort that Mackie is with him now, able to hold our first child in her arms and able to tell him how much his Daddy loved him and wanted him, too.

  Those of you closest to her are also laughing at or with me now, and that’s okay. I write this part with a smile. My sweet little atheist didn’t believe in Heaven, but we always joked that my faith was strong enough for both of us, and she was fine with that. I was truly blessed by her loving spirit.

  Unfortunately, Mackie passed too quickly for the doctors to save her. But I know how she felt about me, and take some small measure of comfort in knowing one of the last things I ever said to her was, “I love you.” I had her cremated, per her request. She’d left it up to me to make final decisions past that point, so I have decided that she will remain with me and Zee. At some distant time, my daughter and I will have a discussion about the future, and my final wishes.

  Mackie didn’t want a “wasteful” funeral or burial, or flowers. If you wish to make a donation to any local charity of your choice in her memory, please feel free to do so. But please honor her wishes and don’t ask to send me flowers or cards. I truly do not need them. Sending me a message through Facebook, or e-mail, if you have my e-mail address, is enough, I assure you. If you wish to send flowers, send them to a nursing home to brighten their day and spirits.

  If you are friends with me on Facebook, you may contact me through my account, or if not, you may send me a friend request, but I’m not going to log in to Mackie’s account again to check messages or respond. It’s far too painful. You can find me listed on her profile as her husband, and tagged in this post. I will wait about a month and then archive Mackie’s Facebook account after I download copies of all the pictures, so everyone she is friends with has time to see this. Please feel free to refer people to me.

  Zee and I have moved from the Milwaukee area to Florida. I am about to start a new job, and we will build our new life here together. This is where I’m from originally, and where I have friends who love and support me. I have always felt I was destined to return home one day, and now I have. I only wish it could have been all three of us.

  Again, I apologize for letting everyone know in this way, but the people who needed to be notified in person already were. To those of you who did know, thank you for respecting my wishes to not post about it online until I could do so. It is greatly appreciated. I only have so much energy in me, and right now, as you can understand, my focus must be on my daughter and taking care of her.

  Please
do not leave things unsaid to those you love. Sometimes, we have far less time with our loved ones than is fair. Let them always know how you feel so that it is possibly one less burden on your soul and mind later. I loved her so, so much, and she knew that. And I know she loved me, and our daughter.

  Thank you to all our friends who have seen me through this dark valley and allowed me time to breathe and process. You have no idea how grateful I am to you all.

  To Mackie’s friends and relatives, I wish you all love, blessings, and grace. And feel free to tap out now before I “go God” on you, as she used to tease me. LOL

  And for everyone: May the grace and peace and blessings of almighty God, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, descend upon you and remain always. Amen.

  He made sure to tag himself in the post, and added several pictures to it before posting it and leaving it set to publicly visible.

  One taken of him and Mackie upon their arrival at the hospital after her water broke, just before she’d changed into a hospital gown.

  One of him and Mackie just minutes after Zee’s birth, with Zee nestled in Mackie’s arms and both of them crying joyful tears. Literally the happiest moment of his life.

  One he’d taken once the doctors had stopped trying to resuscitate her and had given him time alone with her body, of his left hand holding hers, their wedding rings visible, and their hands gently cupped around Zee’s tiny hand. The darkest moment of his life, even though he still felt numb with grief and exhaustion and was trying to process what had happened.

  One that a friend and coworker had taken of him the next night at home, in the apartment, where he’d come over to sit up all night with Douglas. Douglas lay asleep on the couch with Zee on his chest.

  One of him holding Zee in his arms, taken by another former coworker when he’d stopped by to say good-bye to everyone. Zee was awake, eyes open, and he’d kissed her head. The friend had caught the timing just right, and Zee wore what looked like a little smile, her gaze focused up, on him.

 

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