by Shana Burton
“Why don’t you leave him in here with me? I’ll watch him,” offered Sullivan.
“Are you sure? He can be kind of cranky.”
“Please. I have a two-year-old at home. I know how to handle cranky!”
Lawson laughed and handed him off to Sullivan. “I’ll be only ten minutes.”
“Take your time,” Sullivan called after Lawson as she headed into the kitchen.
Simon started fussing again.
“Oh, don’t you start that, mister!” Sullivan lifted Simon into the air. “Aren’t you a cutie patootie!” She smiled as she listened to him squeal with laughter. She brought him back down and began stroking his hair. “You’re strong and handsome, just like my Christian would’ve been. He looked like his daddy, just like you look like yours. He had his dad’s big ole puppy dog eyes. I bet he would’ve grown up to be a kind and brilliant pastor like his daddy too.”
Sullivan smirked, talking more to herself than to Simon. “Maybe he would’ve been a troublemaker who could melt your heart with a wink or a smile, like his mama.” She went on dreamily. “I can see his big sister, Charity, giving him a hard time for taking her place as the baby in the family, but she would’ve loved him. She would’ve protected him from bullies and monsters under the bed.”
Sullivan faced Simon, her eyes watering, and spoke to him head-on. “Make sure your parents always protect you, you hear me? That’s the most important job parents have. And make sure that they know how blessed they are to have you every day. Make sure they hug and kiss you every day, because some parents never get the chance to hold and love their babies.”
Lawson returned with Simon’s lunch, startled to see Sullivan experiencing an emotional meltdown. “Sully, are you okay?”
“Not really.” She sat Simon down on the sofa and wiped her eyes. “I should go.”
“You’re not going anywhere in this state. I’m calling Charles.”
Sullivan stood up. “No, please don’t. I’m fine now.”
“Darling, you’re many things, but fine isn’t one of them. Look at you. You’re crying!” Lawson handed her a napkin.
“Thank you.” Sullivan blotted her eyes. “I’ll be okay. Holding the baby and thinking about Christian at that age got me kind of misty-eyed.” She tacked on a smile. “I’m fine now, I promise.”
Lawson wasn’t convinced. “Just stay a little longer and keep me company. Simon’s vocabulary is restricted to ball, food, and no. It makes for very limited conversations.”
“Lawson, I can’t. . . .” Sullivan broke into tears and sank down on the sofa.
Lawson held her. “My God, you’re a wreck! Please let me call your husband.”
“He can’t help me. He can’t make this guilt go away,” sobbed Sullivan.
“Guilt over what? What are you talking about?”
Sullivan tried to compose herself. “Nothing . . .”
“Come on, what’s this really about, Sully?”
“We didn’t protect him.” Sully lowered her head. “I didn’t protect my baby, and neither did Charles.”
“Of course you did! You did everything you could for that boy.”
“No, I didn’t!” Sullivan took a deep breath. “Lawson, I wasn’t wearing a seat belt when I had the accident. The belt made me so uncomfortable, and I wasn’t that far from the church. I just figured . . .” She vigorously shook her head. “I should’ve had on my seat belt. I should’ve protected him!”
“Honey, I don’t think it would’ve mattered. The other driver ran a red light. Your seat belt wouldn’t have stopped that.”
“I know, but maybe I wouldn’t have gotten thrown from the car and wouldn’t have had to deliver him early. But as usual, I was selfish. I didn’t think about him when I got in that car. I did what was most convenient for me. I’m no better than Vera. I didn’t protect Christian any more than she protected me from those pedophiles she rented my body to for name-brand shoes.”
“Sully, don’t compare the two. You not wearing a seat belt and your mother allowing you to be molested is not the same thing.”
“No, this is worse. I’m still here. I didn’t die, but my baby is gone. I failed him in the worst possible way. So did Charles when he made the choice to deliver him.”
Lawson seized Sullivan by the arms. “Sullivan, listen to me. You did not kill your son. Neither did Charles. It was a tragic but freak accident. You hear me? An accident! You’re letting the devil get to you. That’s how he operates. He doesn’t show up in a blaze of fire with a pitchfork and a red bodysuit. He gets into your head and starts suggesting things that make you have these kinds of crazy thoughts. The whole game plan is to destroy you and your family, because if he can do that, he can fracture our church and its impact on the city. You’ve got to work against that.”
“How do I do that?”
“You fight. You fight for your marriage. You fight against this grief that’s trying to take hold of you. You pray and meditate on the Word. You stop drinking, and you stop blaming your husband and yourself for what happened.”
“Then that leaves only one person to blame for what I’m going through right now and the pain I suffered through as a child. And that’s God. Tell me how am I supposed to trust a God who would do this to me?”
Chapter 31
“Everybody can relax now. I’m almost myself again.”
–Sullivan Webb
“This place is amazing!” exclaimed Desdemona as she walked out of a Zumba class with Sullivan. “Thanks for showing me around your gym. I may have to come out here more often.”
Sullivan wiped her forehead with a towel as they entered the gym’s weight room. “I try to come work out at least three times a week. You’re welcomed as my guest anytime.”
“Thanks. I may take you up on that since it appears that I’ll be in Savannah longer than I anticipated.”
“What’s going on with Kina’s book? How much longer do you think you’ll be sticking around?”
“It’s tough to say. Kina and I have different ideas about what direction we think the book should go in. I hope to have everything wrapped up in the next month or two, but we’ll see. It’s moving along slowly but surely.”
“Hmm . . . slowly but surely,” repeated Sullivan. “Sounds like my marriage.”
“Are you and your husband still having problems?”
Sullivan gripped a set of push-up bars and started planking. “It’s no worse, and it’s no better.”
“Well, it’s going to take some time to get over your son’s death and the role your husband played in it.”
“I suppose. My mother thinks that I’m being petty and that I’m crazy to still be upset about that.”
“Sullivan, come on. This is the same woman who allowed her boyfriends to sexually abuse her daughter. She’s not exactly a pillar of wisdom. You have the right to deal with this in your own way. Besides, your marital problems didn’t start with losing Christian. You said yourself that your husband doesn’t understand you or prioritize your marriage.”
Sullivan lowered her body for push-ups. “I do wonder if I’m expecting too much from Charles sometimes. I don’t doubt that he loves me. Shouldn’t that be enough?”
“I can’t answer that for you, but if you have to ask, that in itself is very telling.” Desdemona grabbed an exercise ball and got down next to Sullivan on the floor. “I must say, even if you’re aren’t feeling great, you haven’t let it affect you on the outside. You look fabulous these days.”
“I’m feeling pretty good, especially compared to a couple of months ago. I still have my moments when I just want to grab my babies and run off somewhere and never look back.”
Desdemona was caught off guard. “Babies?”
“Yes. In those fantasies, Christian is still alive, but moments like that are far and few. I’m stronger now. Even though I still miss him every day, I’m able to think about Christian without bursting into tears.”
“That’s wonderful! Your friends were wo
rried about you for a minute there.”
“Yeah, I know, but everybody can relax now. I’m almost myself again.”
“So what changed?”
“I don’t know. Time, I guess. Staying active, being around Charity. Spending time with Simon has helped too.”
“How so?”
Sullivan smiled. “He’s such a cute kid. I love watching him and Charity play. They act like brother and sister. Seeing them interact makes me smile. I imagine that’s how Charity and Christian would’ve looked growing up together.”
“I bet that’s a beautiful sight.”
“It is. Take a look.” Sullivan whipped out her phone and showed Desdemona pictures of the two children playing together. “That’s them at the park.... Here’s one at Lawson’s house. . . . There they are asleep on the floor.”
Desdemona scrolled to a picture of Sullivan and Simon making faces at the camera. “That’s a nice picture of you and Simon.”
“Yeah, I was teaching him the art of taking the perfect selfie. See, here’s another one.”
Desdemona viewed the shot of Sullivan and Simon striking similar poses. “Aw, that’s adorable! Has Lawson seen these?”
“Girl, have you seen that dinosaur Lawson calls a cell phone? I think it’s the same one we had in college, and she refuses to upgrade. I doubt she can even receive pictures on that prehistoric thing.” Sullivan put the phone away.
Desdemona laughed. “I think it’s a positive sign that you’re feeling better, but don’t rush the grieving process. It’s okay to take time to mourn your son. He was a part of you. Don’t beat yourself up or feel bad for crying and missing him or for going to his nursery for comfort.”
“There is no nursery for comfort,” revealed Sullivan. “Charles had Christian’s room renovated. The walls have been painted, and all his furniture and toys donated to charity. To see it now, you’d never know that it was once a room for our baby.”
“For real? That seems harsh.”
“He didn’t think it was a good idea to leave it the way it was. He said it was keeping me from healing.”
Desdemona scrunched up her face. “And you were okay with that?”
“I didn’t have any say in it.”
“Sullivan, that room was all you had left of your son. It’s like your husband took your child away from you all over again,” replied Desdemona. “It’s not fair, especially since you haven’t tried to dictate how he should and shouldn’t grieve.”
“It did kinda feel that way,” admitted Sullivan. “Seeing strangers come in and box up his things was hard. I was able to take some comfort in knowing that it was all being donated and that somebody’s child would benefit from it. I don’t know.... Maybe Charles is right. I have been able to cope better, not having to be reminded every time I pass by that room.”
“That’s not the point. It shouldn’t have been his decision alone. You live in that house too, and you were the one grief-stricken by losing your child. To do something that drastic without consulting you seems controlling and wrong. He wasn’t thinking about your feelings, and once again, he didn’t put your needs first. He just did what the heck he wanted to do.”
Sullivan sat on the floor, stretching and thinking. “It does kind of seem that way, doesn’t it?”
Desdemona nodded. “I don’t want you to think I’m trying to cause dissension between you and Charles. I honestly hope that you can work through this, but you have as much right to be respected and heard as he does. That’s all I’m saying.”
As Desdemona made her way to the elliptical machines, Sullivan sat pondering, asking herself who was right in this situation. Vera had cautioned her not to be quick to give up on her marriage, but anyone with a modicum of sense knew not to trust anything Vera had to say. Desdemona had brought up some good points as well. Charles had bulldozed her concerning Christian’s room, and how many times had she told him she felt like she was living in the shadows of his ministry? Biblically and spiritually, Charles was the head of the household, but where did that leave her? She wanted to turn to God, but how could she when felt like He’d abandoned her when she needed Him most?
Chapter 32
“What did you think I was going to do with Simon?
Snatch him up and sell him on the black baby market?”
–Sullivan Webb
“Well, this is a surprise!” exclaimed Lawson. “You’re becoming a regular around these parts. Come on in.”
Sullivan walked into Lawson’s house and handed her some shopping bags. “Here. You can thank me later.”
Lawson began digging through the bags. “What’s all this? Christmas isn’t for another week.”
“A few super cute outfits for Simon. I was shopping for Charity and found myself wandering over to the boys’ section. It was all half off, and you know I’ve never been one to turn down a good sale!”
“That’s true. Where’s Charity?”
“Tuckered out and home with Charles. She obviously didn’t inherit my shopping stamina.” Sullivan looked up, surprised to see Desdemona sitting in Lawson’s living room. “Oh, hi, Des. You here to interview Lawson?”
Desdemona held up her notebook. “Yep, gettin’ all the goods on Kina.”
Sullivan sucked her teeth. “I can give you a book all by myself on that subject!”
“I thought you and Kina were in a good place now,” said Lawson.
“We’re in a better place. Good may be pushing it.” Sullivan’s mood brightened when she laid eyes on Simon. “Hey, Simon! Come give me a hug!”
“Somebody looks happy to see Mr. Banks,” remarked Desdemona as Simon ran to Sullivan’s waiting arms.
Sullivan planted a big kiss on Simon’s cheek. “Are you kidding? This is one of the highlights of my day!”
“They’ve become quite close,” Lawson informed Desdemona.
Desdemona scribbled something in her notebook. “Interesting. . .”
“I’m sure you two have lots to talk about. Why don’t I take Simon outside and let him run around the yard and burn some of this energy off so you two can talk?” suggested Sullivan.
“Sully, you don’t have to do that,” replied Lawson.
“It’s my pleasure. Besides, it’s warm outside today, and running behind toddlers is one of the ways I get my cardio in!” Sullivan reached for Simon’s tiny palm. “Come on, Si. I’ve got five pounds to lose, and you and Charity are my versions of SlimQuick.”
Lawson smiled as she watched Sullivan lead Simon outside. “She certainly seems like she’s in a good mood, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah . . . you sure she hasn’t been drinking?” asked Desdemona. “That could also account for her jovial mood.”
“I didn’t smell any liquor on her. I think she’s slowly coming back to herself. It’s great to see.”
“Really? That’s not been my assessment at all,” remarked Desdemona.
Lawson faced her. “Why not?”
“You know Sullivan and I have been spending a good bit of time together lately. From my observation, she’s still very much in a disconsolate state. I think she needs help, Lawson.”
“I thought she was getting better.” Lawson watched from her living room window as Sullivan played peekaboo with Simon, and added forlornly, “Maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see.”
“That’s often the case when people around us are hurting and have the potential to be destructive. We look for any glimmer of hope and run with it. Hoping the person is getting better is a lot easier than facing the possibility of their getting worse.” Desdemona joined Lawson at the window. “Humph. Doesn’t that concern you?”
“Doesn’t what concern me?”
“How attached Sullivan is to Simon.”
“No, Simon is my stepson, and Sullivan is my best friend. I don’t expect her to treat him like a leper.”
“I’m not saying that, but the gifts and the unannounced visits . . .” Desdemona shrugged. “I think it’s a bit much.”
Lawson t
urned away from the window. “What are you getting at?”
“Sullivan just lost her child. Now she’s fixated on yours. It’s not healthy.”
“Yeah, I admit that Sullivan has been having a hard time dealing with Christian’s death, but I don’t think she’s fixated on Simon, not the way you mean.”
“You’re probably right. You know Sullivan way better than I do.” Desdemona paused. “But she has said and done some things that I think are cause for concern.”
“Like what?”
“She has pictures of the two of them together on her phone, and she talks about him a lot,” revealed Desdemona. “It sort of makes me uncomfortable to tell you the truth.”
Lawson was now alarmed. “What is she saying about him?”
“She’s talked about how much she misses her baby and how being with Simon makes her feel close to Christian. She said that when she holds him, she fantasizes about him being her baby. She also talks about wishing she could take off somewhere with her kids and never come back. Her kids, plural, so she’s not just talking about Charity.”
Lawson refused to let her mind go there. “Come on, Des. Kidnapping? That’s a pretty far stretch even for a writer like you!”
“Is it? Did you know that she’d been taking pictures of him?”
Lawson disclosed that she didn’t.
“Sullivan is obviously going through postpartum depression, in addition to mourning her son,” said Desdemona. “The fact that she’s self-medicating with alcohol only adds fuel to an already volatile situation. You’ve all said that she isn’t in her right mind these days. It wouldn’t take much for her to snap.”
“Okay, yes, she has been sad and has been drinking a bit much,” conceded Lawson, “but I don’t think she’s a danger to anyone other than herself.”
“Are you willing to risk this child’s life to find out? People snatch up babies every day. How could you forgive yourself for putting Simon in harm’s way? How would your husband forgive you?”
