by Holly Jacobs
“There’s a term, placental abruption. I’d never heard of it till that day, but I’ll never forget it.” His voice broke as he said the term. “Her placenta was lower than it should have been and it ruptured. They found her on the kitchen floor. I rushed my wife to the hospital and…” He stopped and was silent.
Laura squeezed his hand, and finally, he squeezed back. His words came out soft and hoarse. “There was nothing that anyone could have done. I was angry. As angry as you are. But how could I be mad at her? It’s not like she planned it, any more than Jay could have. My parents were great targets for all that anger. I mean, there they were, crying and saying they’d loved Allie. They’d had a fit when we married right out of high school, and now they were crying? They were being hypocrites, and I was pissed…”
Laura spoke then, as gently as he had. “Because being mad at them was easier than being mad at Allie.”
“Yes. And after a while, it was second nature. I just avoided them. But since you came into my life, I’ve been with my family more than I’ve been in years. It’s as if having you and Jamie around makes me remember how great my parents are. I’ve called my mother intending to talk it out. But when I get her on the phone, I realize I’ve forgotten how to talk to her. I know she loves me. She loves me enough to let me be mad at her because without that anger, I don’t know if I could have made it. But I’m not angry anymore. And I miss my parents.”
“I’m glad. You should talk to them.”
“And you should talk to the Martins.”
She shook her head. “It’s different. Your parents are yours—they love you. The Martins are Jay’s parents. They loved him and tolerated me.”
“That’s not right, Laura.”
“We’re really doing this? Lying naked in bed after making love and talking about Allie, Jay, your parents and the Martins?”
“Laura.”
Softly, she admitted, “I look at Jamie and know I’d do anything for him. Even hang on to him when he was past the point of no return.”
“I know he’s somebody else’s baby, but I feel the same way. I’d do anything for him. I’d hold out hope long after it was gone. I’d do everything I could to keep him from marrying too soon. I want to see him go to college, get a job, fall in love, have children…”
“So where does that leave us?” Laura asked.
“Maybe we both need to take a break from whatever this is and put our pasts to rest before we see where our future lies.”
“I don’t know if I’m ready to put my past to rest. I want to, but I’m not sure I can,” she said.
“And I don’t know if we can go any further than this until we do,” he said simply. “We could have something special, Laura, and I don’t want to screw it up by rushing things.”
“You want me to go to Jay’s parents and what? Forgive them for not giving him the ending he wanted? For preventing him from dying with dignity? You didn’t see it. There was a tube down his throat. Machines beeping. An IV. The scene haunts me. And I should just put it aside? I see the Martins. I let them see Jamie. But you want more than that?”
“I want you to talk to them. Maybe you’ll forgive them. Maybe you’ll find there’s nothing to forgive. We need to cool this…” he said as he waved a hand between them, “…whatever this is, and sort out our feelings, our families.”
“What if we can’t?”
Seth didn’t answer.
Laura didn’t blame him. She didn’t know what to say, either.
Seth dressed and let himself out of the house. She stood in the dark foyer, a quilt around her shoulders.
She walked to the window. Seth’s truck was parked under the streetlight in front of the house. He was clearly illuminated as he opened the door.
Before crawling in, he looked up at her window, as if he could see her in the dark house, and waved.
She waved back and couldn’t help but wonder if this was an ending…or a new beginning.
Without him she felt empty. Her mind jumped from thought to thought so quickly she couldn’t hold on to, much less process, any of them.
It seemed her life had been in flux so long that she couldn’t remember a time when it wasn’t.
Back in her bedroom, she didn’t need anything more than the glow from the streetlight coming through her window to find the dish that held her rings.
She picked them both up and held them. She wanted to cry. Cry about Jay. About the Martins. And yes, cry about Seth. But she’d already cried oceans of tears. She held them back now, feeling them build, like too much water behind a dam. But she knew if she started crying, she might not be able to stop.
She let the rings fall back into the dish with tiny clinks.
As if on cue, Jamie’s whimpering could be heard over the baby monitor. She headed to his room. Laura was thankful. Caring for Jamie gave her something to think about other than all the things she needed to think about.
She looked down at her son as she nursed him, and stroked the peach-fuzz on top of his head.
Jamie smiled at her, a thin trail of milk dribbling down his cheek.
The tears she held at bay eased.
Laura knew she had a lot to come to terms with, but right now, she knew one thing with utter certainty. She’d do anything for her son. She loved him more than she’d ever imagined.
Later, with Jamie asleep and the memory book on her lap, she wrote:
Dear Jamie,
Tonight’s entry isn’t about your father.
Writing those stories about Jay for her son had let her say goodbye to Jay in a way she’d never expected. But tonight was something else.
As I nursed you tonight, I realized that I love you. Oh, I knew that before. From the moment that you were born, I was hit with such a wave of love, I don’t know how to describe it. You’ll understand it when you have a child of your own and hold him or her for the first time.
It’s just tonight, everything felt out of control and I had no idea what to do about anything…then you woke up for your feeding and as I held you, that love I felt simply overpowered all my worries and doubts.
I love you.
And I know that no matter what happens, I have you. I have you and I love you.
I wanted to put that down so that someday, if you’re feeling lost and confused, maybe you’ll read this and it will help you as much as it helped me.
No matter how crazy my life is, I have you to center me. Thank you for that.
I will always be here for you.
Love,
Mom
CHAPTER TWELVE
BEFORE GETTING OUT OF BED, Seth lay there a long time, trying to figure out what the hell he’d done the night before. He’d been with a woman he cared about. Then, rather than enjoying the moment and hoping for other moments to follow, he’d put a halt to it.
When Joel had cried that he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Lisa, the exchange student, Seth had empathized. He hadn’t been ready to say goodbye to Allie, either. But last night, he’d walked away from Laura.
He hadn’t said goodbye, but he’d put distance between them. He’d talked about their problems and healing, but in the light of day, he wasn’t sure if that made him a good guy who was trying to save them both from pain, or a coward, running away from Laura and trying to say it was for her sake. He wanted to think of himself as a good guy, but he suspected he might be a schmuck.
He stood in his small kitchen, staring into the living area. His apartment seemed more barren than ever, despite JT’s drawing and the picture of him holding Jamie.
Looking at the picture made him think of all the photos that lined his mother’s walls. All of them on their Homecoming Days. If you looked closely, beneath the smiles there was an undercurrent of fear in every one. Each wondering if this really was home, or just another in a long line of temporary stops.
Group photos. Some posed, some candid. There was one of him, May and his mom that he loved. They’d made a tent in the middle of the living room and hi
s mom had come in to tell them it was time to tidy up, but rather than do that, she’d joined them in the tent. When their dad got home, he’d snapped the photo of all three of them peeking out of the tent’s opening.
Seth wanted Laura to work things out with the Martins, but their pain was fresh and new. He’d let the damaged relationship go on with his parents for years, first because of misplaced anger, then because of awkwardness. It was time for him to pony up and fix things. Partly because he wanted things to work out between himself and Laura and he truly didn’t believe they could unless he dumped what he’d been carrying around for so long. But mainly he knew it was time because he missed his parents deeply.
He swallowed his coffee in a gulp and half an hour later was on his way to Whedon. Within minutes of passing the I-90 ridge, there was easily an extra foot of snow covering the landscape, though the road itself was clear. The road crews in this area of the country were accustomed to snow…and lots of it. Despite today’s accumulation, the drive to Whedon seemed faster than it normally did.
He pulled up in front of his parents’ house and sat in the truck, staring at the front porch. It was bare now. His dad had taken the Christmas lights and decorations down. Mom liked to unholiday the house right after the New Year.
They’d all been so happy growing up here.
Their friends had gravitated to the house. It wasn’t that his mom always had something in the oven or cooling on the counter. It was a feeling of welcome. His mom and dad had welcomed each of their children into their home and hearts. They’d welcomed their children’s friends as wholeheartedly, too.
They’d welcomed Allie when he started dating her. But after he announced they were getting married right after graduation, that feeling of welcome had evaporated.
He stared at the house and tried to remember everything that had happened, but it was so long ago. He remembered his parents had asked him to wait to marry Allie until after college. He remembered the look of disappointment on his mother’s face. Disapproval on his father’s.
He’d shouted that if they didn’t approve, that was fine. He was an adult and didn’t need their permission. He’d married Allie at the courthouse in Erie. Just the two of them. Their witnesses had been two random clerks the judge had asked.
Because they were married they didn’t need their parents’ income details on the financial aid forms and qualified for a lot of help. And they’d both worked. His college memories centered around being tired. Exhausted.
It had been hard, but he and Allie had done it. Their marriage occasionally stumbled, but it survived.
His parents had been wrong about that, but they’d been right about how hard it had been. If he and Allie had waited, it might have been easier. They could have dated through college. Gone out. Hung out. They could have stayed kids, rather than jump feetfirst into adulthood.
They’d made it harder on themselves. But in the end, he’d had so few years with Allie, even those exhausting college years together were something he’d never trade away.
He thought of Jamie. What if Jamie was a teen and said he wanted to marry? Seth was sure that Laura would balk, and he knew he’d fight against it because he wouldn’t want Jamie to go through what he’d gone through. Now he could understand his parents’ position better than he ever had. And if he were honest, he’d admit that even though his parents hadn’t approved, they’d never cut him or Allie off.
He’d done that.
And after Allie died, heaping more anger on them didn’t take much effort.
He’d rehashed this over and over in his head. Now it was time to tell his parents. To apologize and try to understand their point of view.
He’d meant what he said to Laura. He didn’t think they could move on unless they both put their pasts to rest.
Doing that started here for him.
What if it was too late?
Though his parents had shown time and again that they missed him, and forgave him, he still felt nervous.
He’d been three when he’d come home. He didn’t remember it. Or his birth mother, or the foster homes he’d stayed in when she was jailed. He didn’t remember her taking him back, then losing custody. He’d been too young for actual memories, but maybe a part of him, on some emotional level, hadn’t forgotten.
This morning felt as important as that first Homecoming Day. And maybe, on some level, he felt the same fear of rejection.
It had been years since he’d simply shown up to talk to his parents. He walked up to the door and paused. He would have knocked last week. It was a way to emphasize that he no longer felt like part of the family. But it was more than that, it was a way to hurt his mother and father.
Today, he simply opened the door and let himself in. The house smelled of fresh bread. His mom hated store-bought bread. She used to make two or three loaves a day when they were younger. He felt badly that he didn’t know how often she made bread now.
“Mom?” he called.
“In the kitchen,” came her response.
He should have known.
Most of his memories of seeing his mom were in the kitchen. He’d snatch a warm-from-the-oven cookie as he discussed his day at school. Or he’d help with dishes when the chore fell to him—only it wasn’t really a chore when his mom was there. She’d pass him a warm, wet dish and as he dried it, they’d talk about anything and everything.
His mom turned around as he entered the kitchen. “Seth? Is something wrong?” There was a sense of panic in her voice.
“No, Mom. Nothing’s wrong.” She visibly relaxed at his words. “I want to speak to you and Dad.”
She took another loaf of bread from the oven and placed it on a rack to cool. “Your dad’s at the store filling in for Zac. He took Eli and the kids to spend the weekend at the hotel on Peach Street. The one with Splash Lagoon, that indoor water park.”
Seth nodded. “Yes, I know the one.”
“They’re still bonding with Ebony. She’s adjusting well, but before she came to them, there were issues. They thought a weekend with only the four of them was a good idea. I do, too. I was thinking about that Cook’s Forest weekend.”
He smiled. “You rented that cabin and Dad took us canoeing down the river. He said he was an Eagle Scout, so of course he knew how to canoe.” He smiled. “He dumped us all into the water.”
“He never said he earned an Eagle Scout canoeing badge.” His mom smiled.
He’d missed this—talking to his mom, sharing family stories and jokes. “Mom, I need to say…”
Her expression quickly changed from smiling to serious.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She didn’t answer the question. Instead, she said, “I’ll confess, I’m a bit scared. You don’t wander into the kitchen to talk to me anymore.” Her voice sounded low and husky, as if she might cry. She picked up a knife and sliced into one of the brown loaves cooling on the counter. She put a piece on a plate and slid it in front of him. No butter. No topping. That’s how he’d always eaten his oven-warm bread.
He looked at the bread and knew it was more than just food. His mother showed her love in so many tangible ways, and food had always been a big part of that.
He’d planned to start with, I’m sorry, but what came out was, “I think I’m falling for Laura.”
His mother approached, as if she were going to pat his hand, then stopped. “Honey, that’s not news to anyone who’s seen you two together.”
“But we’re taking a break.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s too soon for her. And we both have a lot to deal with first. My coming here, it’s part of my baggage.” The words that needed to be said weighed heavily on his tongue, just like they did when he’d arrived here as a kid and hadn’t spoken. But he was no longer an intimidated child. This time, he had to talk. “After Allie, I was so angry. I was pissed at the world, and I was pissed at you and Dad. I told you it was because you were hypocrites, that you hadn’t approved of ou
r marriage, yet mourned her death, but that wasn’t really it. It’s hard to be mad at the whole world—especially when I’m out there, working with people every day—so I narrowed my focus, and you and Dad were easy targets.”
“I understood, Seth. You needed someone to be mad at and you trusted us enough to be mad at us. You suffered a loss not for the first time. When you came home to us, you’d lost foster parents, then your birth mother. You were so little and hurt. You were terrified.”
“Yes, but though that boy was terrified, there you were and you told me that you loved me, that I was special and that I could do anything. You taught me to try to make a difference. And I believed you and I tried. I became a cop to do just that.” He pulled an inside piece of bread up and rolled it into a ball like he used to when he was young, but he didn’t eat it. He picked another small piece and rolled it, too.
“Even when I was mad at you because you and Dad didn’t support my marriage to Allie, I knew you loved me. I was young and cocky, but at heart, I knew you only worried because you loved me. And I still believed you. I still believed I could do anything. And then we found out about the babies, and my life…I’d never been so happy. And then…”
“Then Allie died,” his mother whispered.
He crushed the small piece of bread in his hand. “She was dead, and I realized you had lied to me. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t save our children.”
“Seth.” This time she did take his hand. “I know you’d have done anything to save Allie. She knew that, too.”
His voice dropped. “It got worse. Because what if I lost Allie and the babies, and I still went on and lived a life that had some meaning? What kind of love can go on after that kind of loss?”
“Seth…” Pain filled his mother’s voice. She gently squeezed his hand. “I’ve always loved you, Seth. And even when I’ve made mistakes it was love that drove me. It was the same for you.”
