by Soraya Lane
Matt shrugged. He didn’t give a damn.
“She’s beautiful. Why’d she leave you?”
“I know,” Matt said, staring at her, wishing he was with her right now. “She had cancer. And we lost our baby. And now everything’s turned to shit.” Going back to Napa was supposed to make things better, was supposed to take them back in time. He’d wanted to remember the night before their wedding, in bed together instead of apart, not wanting to be separated for an hour, let alone an evening.
“It sounds rough,” the bartender said, wiping down the counter, putting away glasses.
Matt looked around. He was the last man standing. The bar was deserted.
“Rough doesn’t even start to cover it.”
“Look, I’m gonna be here awhile. Why don’t you drink some more water? I’ll make you a coffee, and you can crash over there,”—the bartender pointed to a corner that had a big old sofa in it—“while I mop the floors.”
Matt stood up, about to say no, that he had somewhere to be. But his legs almost buckled, the room spinning.
“Yeah, okay.”
He stood, holding the counter, and knocked back the water. The bartender refilled his glass and he downed that too.
And just like that, he was back to being the Matt before he’d met Lisa, drinking away his sorrows, doing anything to try to put a hold on the pain. And just like old times, it never worked.
“You all right?”
He took the black coffee that the bartender passed to him, shaking his head. “Yeah.”
Matt waited for the coffee to cool, thought about what an idiot he’d been. Lisa was the love of his life, but no matter what he did, what he said, what he thought, he’d still managed to lose her.
Why the hell didn’t he know what to do to make things better? Why did the pain of his mom dying still haunt him? Why did he still shoulder so much guilt for the way he’d treated his dad?
Why didn’t he know how to help his wife?
“I’m just going out back for a bit. Don’t spew on the sofa,” the bartender called out.
Matt drank the coffee and stumbled toward the sofa, needing to lie down. If he didn’t, he probably would be sick. Once he was alone, he pulled out his wallet again, took out the black and white photo that he hadn’t looked at for a week now. His son.
He hit the sofa hard when he stumbled forward, his movements clumsy. What he needed was some sleep. With numb fingers, he pushed the picture back into his wallet. Once his head stopped thumping and the room stopped spinning, maybe then he’d know what to do.
21.
Lisa woke slowly, stretching, smiling as sun streamed in through the window. She’d forgotten to pull the drapes, and she loved the feel of being bathed in warmth before she even opened her eyes.
She reached out, stretched out her fingertips across the sheets searching for Matt. Only she didn’t connect with anything other than a pillow and more empty sheet. Lisa sat up, rubbed at her eyes and looked around.
She’d forgotten Matt wasn’t there, just like she’d forgotten the morning before, and the morning before that. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted and forced herself up and back into the bathroom. She stepped into the shower, turning the water on and waiting until it ran warm enough for her to step under it, letting it soak every inch of her. The water cascaded down her face, over her shoulders, her hair instantly plastered to her head. And she let the tears fall. Disguised, mixed with the water so she couldn’t even feel them on her skin, but she could feel the burn as they left her eyes.
She’d pushed Matt away because she’d found it impossible to be around him, but being without him was feeling just as impossible.
She slumped down. Slithered to the floor and sat there, the water falling over her. Part of her wanted to give up, if it meant continuing on without Matt, but another part of her wanted to do anything to pull herself up and out of the grief she’d fallen into. Facing a future without Matt was scarier than she’d realized it could be, but then so was facing a relationship that was so much more grown up. They’d laughed their way through life, had so much fun and made so many plans, but the only big hurdles they’d faced were work related. She’d never seen Matt grieve, never seen him cut up about something to the point that it put them in crisis. Just like he’d never seen her hit rock bottom before.
Lisa cried some more, got it all out, and then finally hauled herself up and washed her hair, went through the motions of rinsing it and soaping her body. Then she got out of the shower, dried herself and pinned her hair up to keep it off her back. She slathered her body in her favorite coconut moisturizer, put on her face cream and some make-up, then went to find her hair dryer. She blew it out, left it loose and falling over her shoulders, and decided to put on one of her favorite dresses. The room was so quiet, the silence almost deafening, and she quickly turned on the television to drown out the nothingness.
Then she grabbed her phone, scrolled to her favorites and selected Kelly’s number. She’d been wrong: she couldn’t do this alone. She needed someone to talk to; it was just that that person wasn’t Matt right now. And unless she found a professional, her big sister was her best option. She dug her nails into the duvet as she waited, staring at the door, hoping by some miracle that her husband would walk through it in his sports gear, all sweaty from a run, that it had all just been a nightmare, a bad dream that she could laugh about later. All of it just a bad, bad dream.
“Morning,” Kelly answered.
“Hey, how are you?”
“Kids driving me crazy, but they’re at school now so I can breathe. How are you?”
Kelly had always been worried that Matt would break Lisa’s heart. From the moment they met, when Matt had made her fall head over heels in love with him, her sister had bitten her nails down worrying that Matt wouldn’t be able to stay on the straight and narrow. But he always had, and Kelly had eventually realized she had nothing to stress about. So Lisa needed to tell her the truth in such a way that she didn’t flip out and think that Matt had walked out on her when the going had gotten tough.
“Matt isn’t with me. We’re, um, we’re taking a break.”
“What?” Kelly asked.
“It was my choice. I made him go,” she confessed.
There was silence down the line. Lisa gulped and then folded one arm around herself.
“I need you, Kel,” she said in a low voice. “I need someone with me. I don’t know how to get past this, how to live with the pain I’m feeling. I need you.”
Kelly was silent for a beat and Lisa waited. Hopeful.
“Tell me where and when and I’ll be there,” Kelly said firmly.
“You will?” Hope filled her body, calmed her. “I know I shouldn’t be asking you but I don’t know what else to do,” Lisa told her honestly. “I need someone to talk to, to help me.” She’d finally admitted that she was struggling, that she needed her sister, and the relief hit hard.
“Penny’s flying in next week anyway, and she can help out with the kids. And I’ll get Mom to come and stay too; then you can see her when you get home. Richard will be fine looking after the kids. It’ll do him good to have to cope without me for a little bit.” She could almost feel Kelly’s smile down the phone line. “You’re my little sister, and if you need me to help you get back on your feet, then I’m all yours. My girls are old enough to go without me for a little bit.”
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Lisa said, wanting to collapse now she’d finally asked the question.
“You don’t need to thank me. Because I know you’d do the same for me in a heartbeat.”
It was true, she would, but that was different. “The difference is that I don’t have to leave two little girls behind.”
Kelly made a chuckling sound. “It doesn’t do them any harm to see me being a good sister, and also seeing that their dad is capable of looking after them. I want to help you. If you’re ready to work through this, then I’ll be there.”
&
nbsp; “Thank you.” Lisa didn’t know what else to say.
“You’re still in Napa, right? I’ll be busy making lists for Richard so he knows what to put in the girls’ lunches, about their afterschool activities and everything else I do that he has no real idea about, but I’ll be in the car by mid-afternoon.”
“Thanks Kel. I’ll call Mom, tell her we could really do with her help back at your place. I need to tell her what’s going on so she doesn’t worry about Matt going home without me.”
“Okay. But she’s going to worry anyway. You know that, right? We’re all worried about you.”
“I know, Kel, I know,” she said, wishing she’d called her sister sooner. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye.”
Lisa kept the phone pressed to her ear a bit longer, listened to the beep and then the silence once Kelly had gone. And then she sat alone, staring at her bags where she’d left them on the floor. She had pretty dresses in there that she’d been saving for Mexico, kaftans that she was going to wear as she sipped cold drinks and lay around the pool with her husband—things they’d talked about even if she’d known deep down she couldn’t go through with them. There were so many things she should have been looking forward to doing with Matt on this trip, but instead she’d felt empty, although maybe not as empty as she felt right now.
Lisa was starting to like running. There was something therapeutic about the steady thump-thump of her feet, listening to music and just staring ahead at the road, because it forced her to concentrate, which meant she had little time to think about anything else. She missed Matt, like a limb had been torn from her body, but the time alone was soothing her in a really weird kind of way. Reminding her of the good times they’d had without having to keep a smile plastered on her face, without having to fight tears when they suddenly came out of nowhere, time after time, like a vicious cycle. Her emotions were all over the place, but it was oddly okay.
“I can’t keep going,” Kelly yelled out.
Lisa was panting as hard as her sister was, but she guessed her sister wasn’t running from demons, which gave her a whole lot less incentive to keep going under the burning hot sun.
“Let’s crash under that tree,” Lisa called back, pointing and jogging over.
They both collapsed in the shade and Lisa was pleased they’d decided to run with drink bottles. She swallowed her water down until there wasn’t a drop left.
“You’re going to kill me here,” Kelly muttered. “Seriously.”
“Can I ask you something?”
Her sister nodded but shut her eyes at the same time, lying back.
“Do you think childhood sweethearts can ride out an entire lifetime of ups and downs?” she asked. “Do you think it’s possible to meet the person you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with, before you’ve experienced life with anyone else?”
Kelly opened her eyes and hauled herself back up, staring back at her. “Are we talking about you and Matt, or just generally?”
Lisa shrugged.
“I think any couple can stay together or split up regardless of when they met,” Kelly said. “And I think some people can meet a lifetime of wrong people, and others can get it right first go. Maybe it’s just luck of the draw.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Lisa had been thinking about it for days, letting it circle around in her mind. But then if they’d just gotten pregnant and started a family like they’d expected to, maybe she’d never be asking the question in the first place.
“But if you’re asking me if you and Matt can stay together, then I’d say hell yes,” Kelly continued, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. “I think you guys need to figure out how to tell each other what you want and what’s going on. Doing anything for the first time is tough.”
Lisa thought about what her sister was saying. “I just can’t deal with how he thinks he can fix our situation like a house that needs fixing up. Why he can’t get that I’ll never be the same again. Why does he have to keep offering solutions and acting like . . .” She didn’t even know what she was trying to say, she was so lost.
“Lisa, I lost a baby a year before I had my first full pregnancy.”
Lisa swallowed hard, couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What do you mean?” She stared at Kelly.
“We didn’t tell anyone we were pregnant in case anything happened, and when I miscarried at six weeks I just kept it quiet. Then we didn’t try again for a while because it just felt too raw for me.”
“Kelly, I can’t . . .” she stared at her sister, heart breaking. “I can’t believe you went through that alone. I wish I’d known so I could have been there for you.”
Kelly nodded. “I think we’re just so well trained, as women, to keep these things quiet. It’s stupid, and the more I see you grieving the more I realize that women should be open about their early pregnancy rather than waiting until that first scan to share it. So many women out there are grieving the babies they’ve lost in silence, and it’s horrible, because no one around them even knew they were pregnant.”
“Did you?” Lisa asked, hugging her knees to her chest. “Grieve, I mean? How bad was it?”
“I felt like I was mourning that little unknown baby until the day I conceived again. Now that I have the girls I don’t think about what I lost, but it doesn’t make what I went through any less real.” She sighed loudly. “Maybe that’s why I threw you that party before you were through your first trimester, because I didn’t want you grieving alone if it happened to you, too.”
“Thank you for telling me,” Lisa said, still in shock that her sister had been through so much without telling her.
“You know, Matt might be annoying sometimes, but he was only trying to help you in his own way. Just like I was with the party.”
“He just kept going on about adoption and fostering, like giving me a new baby would help me to miraculously get better.”
“I don’t mean to side with him, but in a way he’s right.”
Lisa stared at her sister. “How can you say that? Especially after what you just told me?”
“I’m not saying it will take away the love you had for your unborn child, but loving another is healing in itself. It’s okay to move forward and hold on to the past inside, even if it does feel scary and make you wonder if you’ll forget.”
“So you’re saying I was too hard on him? That I shouldn’t have . . .” Lisa felt confused.
“I’m just saying that when you’re ready, it’s okay to move forward,” Kelly said gently, only lightly panting now as they both continued to catch their breath. “I would carry a baby for you and be your surrogate, Lisa, because I know what a great mom you’d be, but that’s something you can think about in the future if and when you want to. Just don’t write off all the wonderful plans you had with Matt—not yet. You might still be able to have those things, and I think that’s what he was trying to tell you, just a bit more bluntly!”
Lisa shuffled over and put her arms around her sister. “Thank you.”
“Hey, that’s what big sisters are for.”
“I don’t know how I’ll ever get past this, though. I just don’t know how to live with the decision I made.”
Kelly’s smile was so kind. “Think about what could have happened, Lisa. Could you honestly have imagined Matt raising your newborn on his own while you had treatment? Can you imagine him grieving for you and bringing up that little boy without you if you’d died? Telling his son that he didn’t have a mom because she’d chosen her child instead of saving herself and getting treatment when she needed it? How impossible that would have been?” Kelly had tears in her eyes as she spoke. “Matt needs you, Lis, and your baby would have needed you. The fact that he agreed with the doctor and wanted to save you doesn’t make him a bad person. It makes him a person who loves you.”
“I know,” Lisa acknowledged. “And the truth was that I made that decision too: I was the one who signed the papers, I was the on
e who could have said no at the last minute.” She wiped away a few stray tears that she hadn’t been able to hold back. “I guess I thought that it would be okay, that if the surgery went well then I’d just bide my time until I could get pregnant again. And then I would be able to forget,” she sobbed.
Kelly held her in her arms. “You need to talk to Matt. You need to figure all this out and be with him, because men seem like they don’t care sometimes just because they process things like grief differently.”
Lisa wiped at her eyes again with her knuckles. “You were friends with him then, when his mom died. I wish I’d seen what he went through. It feels like we’ve been together so long but it’s a part of him he’s kind of kept at arm’s length.”
Kelly smiled but shook her head. “I was more friends with him after, and it wasn’t something he ever wanted to talk about.”
“I was selfish not making him tell me more, not asking more questions about what he’d been through and how hard that must have been on him when I got my diagnosis,” Lisa said. “Hindsight’s a bitch, that’s for sure.”
“Sweetheart, you weren’t selfish. You were grieving and in pain and going through cancer treatment. And maybe he likes that you didn’t know him then, didn’t see him in that raw state.”
“I love him,” she admitted. “But seeing him just reminds me of what we’ve lost. Reminds me that he’ll never be a dad, that if he stays with me, he’ll never have what he wants. That he’s having to settle for a sad, unfertile woman.”
“He loves you,” Kelly said. “For god’s sake, that man adores you.”
Lisa shrugged, not sure whether she believed her sister anymore.
“Take as much time as you need, but don’t take so long that you lose him.”
Lisa stood, not wanting to talk anymore, desperate to run again and burn away the thoughts.
“Ready?” she asked.
Kelly laughed. “I’m walking. I’ll meet you back there.”
Lisa broke into a jog straight away, heading back through the vines and across the grass. Being here with Matt had been tough, but being here without him was starting to help in a weird kind of way, even if it was seriously depleting her bank balance. But what Lisa had said before kept playing through her mind.
