Life Without You

by S. P. West

  That right there is one of the reasons that I’m never having kids. For one it turns your girlfriend/wife crazy. Two – it looks like having a baby turns men into giant pussies and three I’m not knocking up a woman. Unless her name is Summer Sullivan, formerly Thorson. Number three, essentially, removes me out of the gene pool permanently. After dealing with Lyssa today I am completely down with that.

  “So what do you think?” Becks asks breaking me out of my reverie.

  “Huh? What do I think about what?”

  “About Joe?”

  “What?”

  “Joe. Crusty old dude.”

  “Who the fuck is Joe?”

  “Your boss…”

  “Why the fuck are you asking me about Joe?”

  “Have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

  “No.”

  “Obviously.” He huffs out, “You never do.”

  “Aww, come on man, don’t be a whiny bitch… I’ve been thinking about how we pounded those asshole Seahawks.”

  “Fucking liar,” he mutters under his breath.

  “Oh pray tell,” I say affecting an English accent as I bend down to grab the bottle of Gatorade I’d stored in my bag. “What was I thinking about then, kind sir?”

  “Summer.” He says simply. “It’s always about Summer with you. Seriously man, you have got to stop pining after her. She’s gone, you made sure of that. Move the hell on.”

  A spike of pain lances my heart at the truth of his words.

  “Ouch. Remind me why you’re my best friend again?” I say trying to cover up the hurt with humor.

  “Because no one else likes you, asshole.” He laughs.

  “And that’s where you're wrong, dickhead.” I smile as I take a swig of my drink, “everyone loves me and I actually was thinking of your wife. I need something for my spank bank.”

  Which earns me a smack around the back of the head off Lyssa.

  “Owwwww.” I whine, rubbing the back of my head where I’d received her puny attempt at a death blow. “For someone with a huge bowling ball stuck to her front, you can fucking move fast!”

  “Serves you right, wanker,” Lyssa’s says as she eases herself back into the seat. I chuckle, knowing full well that she’s picked that insult up from Summer or Violet.

  “Yeah it does.” Laughs Becks.

  “Thanks man,” I laugh along with him, “may I remind you of the bros before hoes rule of friendship? The one which you have just broken cos you’re so pussy whipped.” Becks response is to roar with laughter while Alyssa lets out a snort of disgust.

  I look to my left to see my best friend grinning from ear to ear with inane happiness. Over my shoulder, I see the reason for his whole existence matching his smile; it’s a beautiful thing to see. Two people so in love, about to start a new adventure with a tiny being that will be the best of both of them. Part of me is jealous, I could have had that once. It’s what my life should have been. I’ve got to dwelling on it. I fucked up; it’s my own fault. I can’t resent them for it; I’m happy that they’re happy.

  They both deserve it.

  “SHIT!”

  My seatbelt bites hard into my side as I’m suddenly thrown hard against the door, smacking my head painfully against the glass - all I can see is stars. With a violent jerk, the SUV swerves to the back to the right on two wheels almost tipping us over on to the side.

  In the window’s reflection, I can see Alyssa’s face morph from complete happiness to sheer terror. She opens her mouth to scream, gripping the cream leather seats beside

  her.

  I must have hit my head quite hard; everything seems to be moving in slow motion as I try to twist myself forward to see what the hell is going on.

  Out the corner of my eye, I can see Becks wrestling with the wheel frantically trying to bring the car back under control as we weave left and right in a deadly dance. It’s only when I manage to lift my head up that I then catch sight of what has caused this. In horror, I watch as the eighteen-wheeler in front of us veers directly into our path.

  I know in those few seconds that we’re going to crash.

  There is no way around it, we’re going to hit the trailer head on.

  We’re all going to die.

  They say that in your last moments that your life will flash before your eyes. All I can see is the rapidly approaching trailer. I focus my gaze on the trailer doors trying desperately to block out the horror of what is about to happen. As we get closer to the unyielding white metal doors I notice with bitter irony, the red bumper sticker bearing the legend ‘How’s my driving?’

  Someone up there must really fucking hate me.

  I brace myself for the impact and for the first time in my life, I start to pray. I pray hard.

  If there is a God, please let them live.

  Please let the baby live.

  Take me, not them.

  Let the baby live.

  It hasn’t done anything to deserve this.

  Let the baby live.

  Please, please, please.

  I shut my eyes and hold my breath waiting for the inevitable crash. Instead, I feel us once more pull violently to the left, then it’s almost as if we are clothes in washer as the car rolls around and around. I can hear Lyssa’s terrified screams and then the sickening crunch of metal and shattering glass as we are thrown around with deadly force. Pain like I’ve never felt before rips through my body as I’m tossed about like a rag doll. Until suddenly we come to an abrupt stop, throwing me forward. Hard.

  A deathly silence hangs over the car. Lyssa’s screams cut off.

  I can’t move… I can’t …open my eyes to see if they’re okay…

  “Be…ck?” I manage to whisper, Christ it hurts to talk. “L...Lyssa?”

  Neither of them answers. I try hard to listen, hoping to hear them at least breathing.

  “Talk…to…me… me…”

  Nothing.

  In the distance, car doors slam. Shouts ring out and the sound of running footsteps gets closer.

  “Jesus Christ!!! Call 911.”

  It’s getting difficult to breathe; the only thing I can feel is the blood trickling down my face and into my mouth. I can’t feel my legs or my arms.

  “Holy crap! No one could survive that…”

  I can’t feel any pain.

  “Josh look at me. Son, look at me! I’m going to check, just call 911 tell them there’s been a terrible accident...”

  Becks... talk to me buddy.

  “Hello, can anyone hear me?”

  No Pain.

  “Hello? Are you ok in there?”

  Lyssa tell me you’re okay.

  “Oh my god…oh my god...”

  The baby. Is the baby okay?

  “Mom? The lady said they are sending someone.”

  Why is there no pain?

  “Stay back! Stay where you are Josh. I don’t want you to see this.”

  Why can’t I feel my legs?

  “Are they alive mom? Shouldn’t we be helping them get out?”

  Summer, I’ll never get to tell you I’m sorry.

  “I said do not move! Do not come near here.”

  I …. love… you Sum.

  “Why aren’t you helping them? Why can’t you help them get out?”

  Love… you… always.

  “The car’s too badly damaged honey, I... I can’t reach them. Oh god. She’s pregnant. There’s so much blood... no no no no no.”

  My last thought before I mercifully lose consciousness is if Summer will go to my funeral.

  SUMMER

  Brighton, England

  THE INCESSANT BUZZING of my mobile phone lures me from what has probably been my favorite dream in a long while. How often does your brain conjure up a vision of Scott Eastwood, Chris Pratt, Harry Styles, you and a tub of Ben & Jerry’s in your sleep?

  Nigh on never.

  I was really getting into it as well.

  The buzzing stops for a moment and I take a
second to look at the time;

  5am.

  Who the hell is calling me at five in the morning? Whoever it is better have a bloody good excuse for it. I’m contemplating turning my phone off to return to Scott and Harry, when my mobile starts vibrating again.

  Deciding that it must be important, I pick the phone off the nightstand, squinting at the screen in an effort to see who wants to talk to me so urgently at this hour. To my surprise Dels’ face pops onto the screen, she should know that it’s friggin’ early o’clock over here. In my sleep addled state, I can’t think of one good reason for her to call. Then it hits me, Lyssa must be in labor!!

  Sheer excitement takes me from sleepy to awake in under five seconds. Happily, I let out a little squeal before pressing the green answer button.

  “Tell me that the reason you are calling me at this unholy hour is that I’m about to be a god mum.”

  “Sum…”

  “Look I forgive you for calling me early.”

  “Summer honey….”

  “Is Lyssa going to be okay, the baby’s a coming a bit early isn’t it? I bet Becks is so excited; he’s going to be such a good daddy. Oh my god I can’t wait!” My mouth runs away with me, I’m literally jumping up and down on my bed in delight.

  Del doesn’t answer me straight away, pausing to take a deep shuddering breath. I stop mid jump as she begins to sob down the phone. A sudden chill whips through my body, a sick feeling forming in the pit of my stomach. My happiness from just a minute ago is forgotten. Instinctively I know that what she is about to tell me is not good, not good at all.

  “Del? What’s the matter? Is Lyssa and the baby alright?” I can hear the quake in my voice as Del continues to sob down the line. “Sweetheart, you’re scaring me.” This only makes her cry harder. In the background I hear Del’s partner, Dana, gently ask for the phone.

  “Summer? Hey, it’s Dana.” Her soft Australian accent greets me. It sounds like Dana has been crying as well.

  “Dana, what’s going on?”

  “We’re at the hospital honey… there’s been an accident. A really, really bad accident.” Her voice breaks. Letting out a gasp, I place my hand over my mouth as she continues speaking, “you need get here as soon as you can.”

  “What’s happened?” A single teardrop races down my face, followed by another then another. “Who’s in the hospital?” I whisper, dreading her answer.

  “Lyssa and the baby... She umm.” Dana sniffs as if trying to hold back the tears, “She had a little boy. We haven’t seen him yet; he’s in the NICU, only family can see him at the moment. Her mum said that they’re doing all they can… he’s a little fighter.”

  I say nothing. Silent tears flowing down my face as Dana carries on.

  “They’re operating on Alyssa now, that’s all I know at the moment. They don’t…don’t think…I’m sorry--” Dana starts to cry again, “They’re not hopeful that she’ll pull through. They’ve told her parents to prepare for the worst.”

  “Oh God…” I start to rock myself back and forth in a fruitless effort to find comfort. “How is Beck’s? How’s he coping? Was he in the car too?” I don’t think Dana hears me as she starts to speak again.

  “I can’t…. I’m sorry.” I can hear muffled voices and I know that her hand is covering up the mouthpiece, “I can’t tell her,” is all that I can make out before the voices become clear again.

  “Summer. It’s me again.” Del almost stutters down the line, she sounds so sad, “Are you… sitting… sitting down sweetie?”

  “Oh no no please no”

  “Becks was driving honey.”

  “Don’t tell me.”

  “They tried everything they could.”

  “No,” I sob.

  “They couldn’t save him… they couldn’t…they tried so hard but his injuries were too severe.” She cries, sounding as heartbroken as I feel. “Look honey, I’m going to have to go now I really need to get back inside.”

  “Okay,” I sniff, wiping my tears away on my pajama sleeve. “I’ll be on the first flight out that I can get. Where are you?”

  “We’re in the Eden Medical Center Castro Valley. Text me the flight you’re on. I’ll make sure someone is there to pick you up from the airport.”

  “Del? Thanks… for letting me know.”

  “I’m so sorry that it’s not good news sweetheart. You’ll let Vi know?”

  “Of course, I’ll see you later.”

  “Before you go,” Del takes a steadying breath “There’s something else that I need to tell you… Oh lord…um…Alex was with them in the SUV. He’s in the intensive care unit here. He’s, ahh, he’s unconscious and in a bad way. They said that at the moment he’s stable. I thought you should know.”

  Those words cause me to unravel. Until this point, I’d just about managed to hold myself my together.

  Alex was hurt too.

  An almost animal like wail fills my ear as I howl in pain. Not just for the loss of Becks but also for the tiny baby clinging to life, a son who will never know his wonderful father. For my beautiful friend Lyssa, who doesn’t know she’s lost her beloved husband or that her son has been born; for a friend who may not survive. I also cry hard for my ex-husband, Alex. No matter what he did, a small part of me will always still love him. It hurts to think that he is lying fighting for his life in a cold hospital room.

  As Del ends the call I throw my mobile onto the bed, curl up in a tight ball and sob.

  Castro Valley, CA

  Nearly twenty hours later Violet and I stumbled, exhausted, through the arrivals gate at San Francisco International Airport. After that devastating call with Del ended, I’d immediately called Vi to tell her the bad news. As it turned out, she had already been contacted by Dax and was trying to book us tickets for the first available direct flight out of England. Which, fortunately for us, was from Heathrow--an hour or so drive away.

  Having then woken Seth up to beg him to drive us to the airport, we turned up a couple of hours later with just our passports and few items of clothing stuffed into our hand luggage.

  Everything else was forgotten in our rush to get to the hospital half the world away.

  I figured that we could book a hotel and buy what we needed when we got there. Clean clothes and somewhere to sleep was the least of my worries; getting to my friends was all I could think about.

  The flight over here was the worst.

  Neither of us managed to sleep, nor could we stop crying during the whole thirteen-hour flight.

  I’ll never forget the kindness that we received from the air stewards and our fellow passengers. Instead of disproving looks, comments and shifting away from two sobbing women, they reached out. Each person asking us if we were okay, what could they do to help? At one point, an elderly nun sat with me, took my hand and held it. Such a simple act was a great comfort in a time of pain.

  It reminded me that for all the bad we see in the world, the hate and the violence, we must remember that there is also good, that there is kindness. Just taking someone’s hand in yours could make all the difference in the world to them.

  Now we were sat staring at the clean cream walls of the hospital waiting room, awaiting news of Lyssa’s, Alex’s and the baby’s current condition. Lyssa and Beck’s relatives surrounded us; heartbreak etched on their faces.

  Beck’s parents held on to each other; tears streaming down their cheeks as they waited for news of their daughter-in-law and newborn grandson. I can’t begin to imagine the pain that they must be feeling over the loss of their son. Yet here they were, hoping beyond hope that they would not lose Lyssa and the baby.

  Next to them sat Lyssa’s mother, arms wrapped around her middle, silently rocking back and forth. Other relatives and friends were dotted around the brightly lit waiting room sat on the padded blue plastic chairs or on the hard, cold green-tiled floor. I didn’t know many of them, and to be honest, I haven’t paid much attention. I was too wrapped up in my own grief to look at th
e faces of the people with whom I’m united in sadness.

  I’m hand in hand with my former mother-in-law as we wait for the okay to see her broken bodied son, my ex-husband. While Vi and I were mid-air; Alex’s condition had deteriorated suddenly. He’d suffered a massive brain bleed and had to be rushed back into surgery, where they’d been able to stabilize him.

  Lyssa had made it through thus far and had only just been moved to intensive care. The surgeon had spoken to her parents around half hour ago. Which they’d then relayed to us.

  Thankfully, the surgery had been a success, her condition was improving. Nevertheless, they were warned that the next 12 hours were critical.

  The baby continued to gain in strength. The little fighter was getting stronger and stronger with each passing hour. Currently, Lyssa’s dad was sat with him in the NICU, the hospital only allowing one person to see him at a time.

  Dana and Del headed home a few hours ago. The said that they’d be back first thing in the morning to swap with us so Vi and I could crash at their apartment.

  The worse part of sitting here waiting to hear whether someone you love--you care about--has lived or died is the feeling of utter uselessness. There’s nothing that we could do but sit and wait.

  I wish I could just wave a magic wand and make it all better or make a time machine to go back to yesterday. To before they headed out to the game.

  I can’t stop thinking about how terrified they must have been during those last few moments, knowing what was about to happen and unable to do anything about it.

  “Mrs. Thorson?” Alex’s mum, Marylyn, and I both turn our heads at the same time in the direction of the soft southern accent that had just addressed her. In the doorway stands a tall, distinguished older man who looks eerily like Morgan Freeman. He surveys the room for a moment, before fixing his tired gaze on my ex mother-in-law. His face remains neutral as he walks towards her. Marylyn lets out a small gasp, squeezing my hand tightly, already thinking the worst.

  “Mrs. Thorson?” He repeats again as he comes to a stop in front of us. The whole room is silent, staring at us as Marylyn nods her head. “May I sit down?” He asks, indicating to the chair next to her.