Anthony released his wife’s limp hand to unlock the door, closing his eyes as he pushed the door open. The house smelled like stale heat and the faint reek of garbage, a mercy for both of them. He didn’t take her hand this time, loosely circling his arm around her shoulders as he led her inside, bypassing the kitchen and sink full of dishes in favor of the couch. She didn’t fight him, didn’t resist as he gently pushed her down. She pulled the afghan over her lap despite the dry heat, curling into herself, her empty hands opening and closing. He stared at her fingers curling on her midriff because he still couldn’t look into her eyes.
“Do you want some water?” He longed to sit with her, to take her into his arms and hold her, but she was so closed off, so apart from him. Another small swallow, her delicate blue veins visible against her pale, pale skin as she nodded. He moved because he had to, had to stop hovering over her, helpless. The motions were easy to lose himself in, choosing a plastic cup in case her fingers slipped, filling it with ice and water from the fridge. He set it in front of her on the table, using a coaster without her reminder. He wanted her reminder, and when it didn’t come, he needed to lose himself in other tasks.
He bagged and took out the trash, lighting a candle to banish the lingering smell, and washed the dishes. The whole time Hayley sat in silence, the water sweating, untouched. When he finished the dishes, the sun was sinking toward the horizon. He went to their bedroom because it was easier than facing that untouched cup.
Their bedroom door was mostly shut. He pushed it open, memory and nightmare chasing one another on the sour copper smell. His stomach turned hard at the scent, the burn of bile scalding his throat. He forced it down, snapping the reaction tight in his internal box because there was no one else to deal with this. He wanted to go mindless for this too, but his eyes kept catching on the unwanted details, on the reddish-brown stain, the sheets stiff as he peeled them free, wadded them up, folding the stain in and out of sight. The mattress was spared thanks to the waterproof pad Hayley had placed there herself a week ago. In case her water broke in her sleep. He rolled it away, throwing sheets and pad in the trash. His mouth still tasted like old pennies.
Anthony yanked the windows open, gulping deep breaths of summer air. When he could breathe again, he shut the windows and lost himself in sliding new sheets onto the bed. He forced himself to return to the silent living room, heart thumping painfully in his chest when he found only her untouched water.
He almost called out her name, though he knew where to find her. He pivoted, his steps slow as he walked past their bedroom to the room next to it. It was dark, curtains drawn tight. Hayley sat in the rocking chair staring at the crib. It was too much for him, too much for his box, so he left her there. He couldn’t sleep in the room either, choosing to flop down on the couch. He stared at the ceiling until the sunlight faded. He never did open that box.
Chapter Two
Anthony returned to work the next day. She was aware of that much. He stood in the door, watching her for what felt like hours. She kept waiting and waiting for him to say something, anything. She kept waiting for him to come and hold her, but he just stood there and then he left. She wondered, briefly, if he would come back at all. Hayley wanted to care if he came back, she truly did, but she felt hollow inside. As if someone had cored her out, ripping out all the pulp and seeds and vital bits. There was a void in her now, nestled deep, spreading like ink, staining her veins until she was certain she’d bleed black if she cut herself. The thought crossed her mind more than once. She saw so much of her blood that night, red, red, red, pouring out of her. She could feel it happening, the coring, feel it as they wheeled her into the emergency room, could feel her baby dying inside.
When they pulled him free, he was already gone. She wanted to hold him just once, but her body was emptying out, red, red, red, all over the gurney. She stared into his squashed little face until the void sucked her down. Her baby boy, who never took a breath, was gone when she woke up. Her belly was still swollen when they sent her home. Swollen and hollow. Now there was a waiting crib that would never be filled and a baby blanket embroidered with a name that would never be whispered. The blanket sat folded on her lap. She ran her fingers over the raised curves and bumps of his name.
“What do you want to call him?” Anthony asked, smiling up at her, his ear pressed to her belly, listening and feeling their little boy move inside her.
“Daniel,” she said aloud, choking on the name. She’d wanted to hold him, just once, her little Danny. Hayley rubbed the blanket against her cheek, inhaling the faint scent of detergent and baby powder, the fabric kitten soft against her tear-stained skin.
She lost track of the hours she sat there. The drawn curtains muted the sun, but time sped on, heedless of her pain. She could feel reminders of its passage in the aches and twinges plaguing her body, her pounding head, and the pinch of her stomach. The smell of the hospital clung to her: dried blood, disinfectant, and fresh rubber. She should eat. She should shower. She should fold laundry, and vacuum, and do a dozen other little tasks to reclaim the routine of living.
Hayley didn’t move.
At some point, she slipped into sleep. She dreamed of her little boy. It had to be him, but older, a toddler if he’d lived, with Anthony’s curls and her blue eyes. He smiled up at her as he planted his hands on her lap.
Mommy, hold me. A singsong voice, one she’d imagined as Danny grew in her womb. How many times had she pictured him like this? Or the sweet boy he’d grow to be? She pulled him into her lap, wrapping the blanket around him. He snuggled against her as she held him tight, but carefully, so carefully her arms went numb from the restraint. No matter how tightly she held him, he slipped away, tangible as sunlight over water. When she woke with fresh tears on her face, she felt twice as tired.
Anthony had come and gone while she slept, leaving an open can of Ensure at her feet, complete with straw, and an open window. The curtain twisted in the breeze, the warm summer air kissing the tears on her face. She glanced down at the Ensure, considering it. There was a touch of resentment at his passive aggressive attempt to feed her. Why couldn’t he stay? Why couldn’t he take a few more days off from work and be here for her through this? Why couldn’t she bring herself to ask him?
Hayley sighed, shifting to reach for the can when the sun peered through the open window, bright and warm as melted butter. It illuminated the blanket with robin’s egg hues. She glanced down at her lap. A set of distinct handprints were pressed into the blanket over her thighs, deep enough to see the outline of individual tiny fingers. Her breath caught in her throat as her heart turned over painfully in her chest. An illusion of light and shadow, that is what she saw. It couldn’t be anything else.
She tried to preserve the illusion as she lifted it off her lap, but like footprints and sand, they faded with her movements. Her jaw trembled. She brought the blanket to her nose, seeking the comfort of detergent and baby powder. The scent of wet earth clogged her senses.
Hayley threw it down, discomfited by the smell. It sent a surge of panic through her, flooding her mouth with saliva. She swallowed again and again, trying to banish the feeling. After several minutes, she inhaled a shaky breath and pushed to her feet. She scooped up the can of Ensure, leaving the blanket in a heap on the floor. The drink tasted like chalky ash on her tongue, but she forced it down. The shower was better, even though every movement made her feel ancient. She thought of those tiny handprints as she banished the hospital smell with lavender shampoo.
Could he be real?
She’d never been much for Heaven or any sort of afterlife, but…
Her hands pressed to her sore belly, pressed against the void inside. She dared to dream.
Chapter Three
Her days fell into a routine of sleeping and waking, sips and showers. Not exactly an affirmation of life, but it kept the void contained. Hayley stayed in the nursery, in the rocking chair. She learned, after the first time when she dozed off on t
he couch and woke up drenched in sweat. Her sweet little Danny didn’t come to her. Not until she drifted off again in the rocking chair. He appeared, reaching up to her, asking to be held in that high child’s voice. She dragged him into her lap, sobbing in relief. She ignored the scent of wet earth that rose off him. She didn’t care. He felt real against her until she awoke with empty arms and the void throbbing up from inside.
Anthony was a ghost in their home. She barely saw him for days, gone early and home late. He continued to bring her Ensures. He took out the trash and washed his dishes. Neither of them slept in their bed. The part of her that longed for her husband’s touch dimmed. If he wanted to isolate himself from her, fine. She had little boy kisses, and snuggles, and little fingers stroking her cheek. She had Danny.
Hayley didn’t care that each time she woke up, it grew harder and harder to convince herself to drink that Ensure. How her muscles still ached, like a flu she couldn’t shake. The only thing that mattered was the weight of Danny in her arms, the feel of his soft baby-smooth skin against hers or his fingers curling through strands of her hair. She could fade away, content with her baby boy in her arms. The hours between sleep felt too long, too hollow. Get up, force down a few sips, take a shower, it was her new normal. How many days had it been since they came home?
She frowned at her body while standing in the shower. She’d been home long enough for her belly to disappear completely, the loose, sagging paunch the final evidence of her failure. She pulled at the pale, almost translucent skin. Her veins were stark blue lines just under the surface. Maybe she was the ghost. She couldn’t stand the sight of herself.
She dried herself with rough hands, slipping into the worn cotton nightgown she’d worn every day. Her other clothes were too restricting or too much effort to sort and match. She ran a brush through her hair, ignoring how much it had thinned in places, and shuffled to the nursery. Once she pulled the blanket onto her lap, it didn’t take long for her to drift off. She was so tired lately, no matter how much she slept. It might have worried her if not for the tradeoff.
Danny appeared in front of her, smiling so his dimples showed. Anthony had those dimples. Her heart pinched in her chest at the thought. If only he hadn’t distanced himself so much from her. He would have loved Danny as much as she did. Her little boy lifted his arms to her, fingers fluttering in a “grabby hands” motion.
“Pick me up. Hold me, Mommy.”
He made her heart feel so full. She reached for him, wrapping her arms around him, but when she tried to sit back, her muscles went watery. Lightheaded and dizzy, the weakness alarmed her. How could she feel like this in a dream?
“Can you help Mommy this time?” She felt disoriented, sucking in a deep breath of Danny’s wet earth scent. It grounded her enough for her head to stop spinning. Danny obediently clambered into her lap, little arms wrapping around her neck and shoulders to hug her tight enough to make her wince, but she pushed the feeling down, grateful simply to hold him. She started humming “Work Song.” He liked that one. She rocked them, running a hand up and down Danny’s back. It was peaceful, so peaceful.
“I want to stay with you forever, Mommy.”
The rhythm of her heartbeat turned painful.
“Hayley?”
Anthony? She must miss him more than she wanted to admit if she dreamed him here.
“Hayley!” Anthony’s voice was muffled, but she could hear the panic in it. That confused her. Wouldn’t he be happy to see their little boy?
“Stay with me, Mommy,” said Danny, snuggling closer. He laced his fingers around the back of her neck. Her heartbeat kicked up, a racing tempo that brought on another wave of dizziness. She tried to hold him closer but met resistance. The muscles of her arms shook. When had she gotten so weak?
“Please, Mommy, don’t go?” Danny’s voice turned pleading. She wanted to tell him she wasn’t going anywhere, but her tongue felt too thick in her mouth. Her body jerked forward. She blinked, staring up at Anthony’s pale, wide-eyed face.
Her head felt fuzzy. She couldn’t focus on him. Anthony knelt in front of her, hands on her shoulders.
“Hayley, when’s the last time you ate?” His features snapped into sharp relief. Worry etched lines in his face. His eyes darted, taking in the details of her appearance. “I mean a proper meal, not one of these shitty Ensures?”
“What day is it?” She shrugged his hands off her. They fell to his sides as he stood, his expression a mix of hurt and incredulity.
“Are you serious?”
What was his problem? He was going to act the part of caring husband after ignoring her for days? “What do you want?” She knew her tone was sharp and defensive. How could she think of sharing Danny with him? He was a stranger standing there, gaping down at her.
“I’m sorry.” He swallowed. She watched his throat work, her anger fizzling out. He swallowed several times before continuing. “I was worried. You didn’t respond when I called.”
She shook her head. “I’m fine. Just really tired.” She offered him a watery smile. “Too tired to eat. I must have been sleeping pretty deep when you called.”
His gaze darted from her to the doorway. His hands fisted at his sides. “You weren’t asleep. Your eyes were wide open. And I didn’t call from the other room. I shouted right into your face.”
Hayley jolted as if he slapped her. “What?”
“You were awake,” Anthony said softly. “You were awake every time I checked on you.”
Chapter Four
He didn’t understand her confusion or her excitement. It was the first time he’d truly looked at her in…His mind stuttered over the answer. Weeks? At least two by his count. He’d left her in here for two weeks. He thought she simply needed time, time to mourn and heal. Though no amount of time, no amount of hours thrown into work or mindless tasks, let him forget. That box inside where he locked his anger and sadness of their loss was full to bursting, but he kept it locked up tight because he didn’t think Hayley could shoulder his grief along with her own. Now that he looked at her, really looked at her, it appeared she couldn’t handle hers.
The maternal glow was long gone, replaced by a sickly pallor. She looked haunted, dark bruise-like smudges under her eyes proof of her exhaustion. Had he paid so little attention to her that he missed Hayley starving herself?
She grabbed at his hands, breathing heavily as if she’d run a mile. She looked frantic.
“I was awake?” Her gaze lost focus. “Did you see him? You must have seen him. He was here, Anthony. He was here.”
“Who are you talking about?” The hair on the back of his neck stood up as she dropped from the chair, holding the baby blanket pinned tight to her chest.
“Danny. He was here,” she breathed. Her eyes were glassy, her pale face covered in sweat. He was sweating too. It was stifling in the nursery, and no wonder. The window was wide open, letting the summer heat pour in, negating their central air. He backed away from Hayley, using the distraction to give him a moment to process her words.
“Danny was here?” He spoke carefully as he shut and locked the window.
“Yes,” she said, her voice cracking. “It was him, his spirit or presence. He looked older, but it was him. He came back to me.”
He knew she saw the skepticism on his face before he could mask it when the hopeful light dimmed in her eyes. Although he hated being the cause of it, this terrified him. Losing their son broke him, was still breaking him day to day in the spare moments he couldn’t occupy his mind with drudgery. But to come home to this? What heart could take that?
“There’s no one here, Hayley.” She wilted under his words, drawing away, back into herself. The chasm between them grew wider still, and Anthony could feel himself hovering on the edge. “Look, you haven’t been taking care of yourself. I can make you an appointment to see a therapist and—”
“I’m not crazy,” said Hayley, high and fast. He could see the hurt in her, feel it push back against hi
m.
“You’re not crazy,” Anthony allowed, “but you are grieving, and grief can twist you up inside. Talking to someone might help you get out of that negative head space.”
She sneered at him. “Talk to someone else since you won’t talk to me? You’ve ignored me for weeks. You left me here alone, all alone, in that ‘negative head space.’ You know what? I know the difference between reality and fantasy. I know he’s a dream.” Her voice wavered on the word. “He’s a perfect dream. I wanted to share him with you, and you weren’t there.”
Anthony swallowed. “Hayley—”
“Just leave,” she said.
Anthony hesitated, feeling the right words, the right actions, hovering just out of his reach. They wouldn’t come. He left, his fists so tight his knuckles were cracking. There wasn’t enough room in his inner box for the pain of her dismissal.
Chapter Five
It felt wrong to send him away. It felt worse for him to stay.
Hayley sat down hard on the rocker, hugging herself. She couldn’t ignore what he said, no matter how much she wanted to. And she desperately wanted to. If she was awake for these visits, was Danny a hallucination? What did that make her? She pulled on her lip, wincing at the stiff ache in her back and neck. She rolled her shoulders to loosen the muscles, her head spinning with the movement.
Anthony was right that she hadn’t been taking care of herself. At the time, she hadn’t cared, not as long as she could hold her sweet boy in her arms. Then she remembered that frightening wave of dizziness when she went to pick him up. Had she wanted to die? Part of her had entertained the idea; part of her did still. What if…what if Danny was real in some fashion? What would happen to him if she died?
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