I shake my head at my friend—she has no idea that being in love with your soul mate is living it up.
“Maria! Time for dinner,” Maria’s mom announces and knocks on her door before entering.
“Oh hey, Gabby. Would you like to stay? There’s more than enough.”
I take notice of the clock on Maria’s desk and shoot up out of the bed. “I didn’t realize the time! Thank you so much for asking, but I better get home. My parents are probably wondering where I am.”
We say our goodbyes and I head home, hoping Mom and Dad aren’t too pissed that I wasn’t there to help them unload the car and put away the groceries. But the door is locked when I get there—weird, since they always leave it open when they’re home. The phone is ringing off the wall as I put my key in the lock and I instantly wonder why no one’s answering it.
The ringing stops just as I get to it, and realize that the house is empty. “Mom? Dad?” I call. Where can they be? Something’s not right.
The phone rings again, and all sorts of bad scenarios start to run through my head.
Staring at the phone, unable to move, I look down at my arms—clenched around my stomach—and notice the hairs standing at attention. Something unknown propels me to answer. I pick up the receiver, hoping I’m only imagining this unsettling feeling. “Hello, Rossi residence.”
My sister’s tone is sharp, frenzied. “Gabby! For the love of God, where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you for hours. The police—”
“Whoa! Hold up. Calm down a second, Gina. What’s the matter? What happened?” She’s scaring me. I try not to jump to terrifying conclusions, but there’s this ominous fear in the air, and my parents aren’t home, and—I just can’t shake this feeling.
Without any warning or cushioning, my sister lets out a gut-wrenching wail. “They’re dead! Oh my god, Gabby, they’re dead!”
My heart sinks to my toes.
Her words sting like sharp razor blades piercing through my skin. Something inside me knows who she’s talking about, but I don’t even want to think it. So, I scream back in fear, “Who, Gina? Who?”
Her sobbing is uncontrollable, her tormented moans unrelenting. Words are emitted but they’re indecipherable screams.
“Gina! Calm down! You’re scaring me. Speak slower, clearer. What’s going on?”
Her hysterics cease for a brief second to answer me and when she does, I wish she hadn’t. “Mommy and Daddy.”
As the words leave her lips and poison my ears, I hang on to any thread of hope. As horrible as it sounds, I want it to be someone else’s parents, leaving the two people I need most in my life alone, letting them be okay. “Whose, Gina? Whose Mommy and Daddy?”
“Ours, Gabby. Our Mom and Dad are gone. They’re dead.”
The response echoes in my ears like a horrifying boom.
My vision blurs, the corners of my eyes invaded by blackness.
My stomach burns, causing blazing heat to travel up to my throat, and a sheen of sweat to prickle my upper lip. Panic sets in, and my legs go wobbly. I can only conclude that if this is true, my happy, perfect life as I know it is over.
“Nooooo!” I scream, letting the tears take over. How will I never see them again, never hug them again, never tell them I love them again? The sobs rack my body, causing me to shake so fiercely I fear I might convulse.
This can’t be happening. I can’t be hearing right. This can’t be right. Dead? My parents? How can my parents be dead? They were just going grocery shopping! They were just here! How did this happen?
With no one around to answer me, or to hold and comfort me, I feel utterly helpless.
I’m lost.
Completely alone.
Scared out of my mind.
With that last thought, the phone falls from my lifeless grip and hangs by its cord, bobbing up and down like a bungee rope.
I stare at the unwelcome emptiness surrounding me, frozen still in our kitchen. Our kitchen. Our home. Five minutes ago this place was normal. Home. Now everything has changed with this one phone call. There is no more normal. Normal is gone, just like them.
Silence envelops me—ghastly, disturbing, isolated silence.
“They’re gone.” I weep. “Dead. Gone. Over.” It means everything else should stop too. Everything should stop. Everything should end. Their lives are over, my life is over, so the world shouldn’t be able to continue. “Noooooo!” I scream, tugging the hairs at the sides of my head.
When I find myself too weak to stand any longer, I slide down the wall, crouching on the floor with my knees to my chest. I sit motionless as the tears pour from my eyes with no remorse. At the rate they fall, I wonder if I’ll create my own private puddle to drown in. I wish I could just disappear because a life without them, is not one I want to live in. I want to be with them. The only way though is to be dead too.
Dead . . . dead . . . dead.
The word repeats in my head like a broken record skipping over and over again, torturing me.
My beautiful, loving, wonderful mother and father are dead. They’re gone and it’s a reality I do not want. A change so unwelcome and devastating, I fear there’s no way I’ll get through it. There is no bright side, no this-will-be-okay. I can’t see how anyone can ever recover from pain this debilitating.
I need my Mom! I need my Daddy! Why would you do this to me? Why, God? Why?
I’m angry with God. So furious, I pound my fists on the floor beside me, hoping to cause pain somewhere other than my heart. I strike my fists so hard against the linoleum tiles that I wear myself out.
Slumping forward, hugging my knees, I let the tears fall as they may; I let my heart hurt, and I tell my parents over and over how much I love them.
Even though I’ll never hear them say it back.
“I’m so sorry, Gabby.” Tommy strokes my hair as he holds me in his lap. “Gina called my parents and told us everything.”
I don’t realize I’m being cradled in his loving arms until I hear him speak.
How long have I been sitting here? How much time has passed?
“Where’s Gina?” I finally ask, casting a look up at my hero. My eyes are painful slits, my voice is hoarse and weak, but I need answers and that’s the first thing I can think of. My sister. It’s only me and her. Alone. Orphans. Because my parents are dead.
Images I don’t want to think about flood my subconscious in bits and pieces, like movie clips of the future I won’t have. An image of graduations without them cheering me on and telling me how proud they are of me makes my stomach lurch with fear. The vision of someone other than my father giving me away at my wedding makes my skin prickle with horror. And the thought of becoming a mother without my own to give me the advice I’ll need to follow in her footsteps—
The realization makes me weep again. I dig my face into Tommy’s neck and let loose while he allows me to unravel. “Why? Why, Tommy? This is so unfair.”
“I know, baby. I know.” There’s nothing else for him to say. Nothing he says will comfort me or shed light on this dark subject. All hope is lost—for good.
I search for answers, something solid, through a curtain of tears, “What happened, Tommy? Did Gina tell you what happened?”
Kissing the top of my head, not bringing its usual comforting calm, Tommy explains, “Baby, they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. They were on their way home from the grocery store when some old man had a massive heart attack behind the wheel. He hit your parents’ car head-on. They all died on impact, baby. They didn’t suffer.” His voice doesn’t tremor or break. I wonder how he can be so strong. Then again, I know he’s doing this for me.
Now that I know, I can’t get my own made up visions of horror out of my mind. I picture broken glass, blood, flashing lights, and emergency responders trying to rescue what is already gone. Was Dad holding Mom’s hand? Did she tell him she loved him as her life flashed before her eyes? Did they have each other’s comfort as they took their last breaths? I’ve seen it enou
gh on television and in the movies, but with the victim’s faces as my parents—will I ever be able to erase this from my mind? This is all too much to comprehend.
“I never got to say goodbye,” I whimper into Tommy’s neck. “I’ll never see them again.”
“I know, baby. Just let it all out.” He rocks me as he comforts me. “Just cry. Cry as hard as you want. As long as you want. I’m here for you. Always. I love you.”
I fall asleep, exhausted and drained, in Tommy’s arms on the kitchen floor.
The opening of the front door startles me awake and I jump upright, wiping the dampness from my face.
“Gina?” I cry, running to the door. “Gina? Is that you?” I round the corner, and run straight into my sister’s arms before she has the chance to answer me.
“Oh, Gina. Why? Why? Why?” Maybe I should be strong for her, but I just don’t have it in me. I’m broken and devastated. She’s the only one who knows how I feel right now.
“I don’t know why,” she says, so matter of fact. Her composure surprises me so I pull out of our embrace.
“We’re going to be okay, Gabby. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
This should comfort me, but it doesn’t. It spooks me. Why isn’t she crying? Why isn’t she losing it the way I’ve been since answering that phone?
Narrowing my eyes, I inspect her. “What’s wrong with you?” I yell.
Tommy comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my trembling body.
“Calm down. Let’s sit,” he says, trying to tame my anger.
But it can’t be tamed. I guess it didn’t take long for my sorrow to turn to rage. I can’t take it out on my parents for leaving us, or the driver who dropped dead behind the wheel, so I have no choice but to take it out on Gina. “Why aren’t you crying? Why do you seem so normal? This is not fucking normal, Gina. Our parents are dead! They’re dead!” My throat feels raw as the words explode from it.
Walking past me and collapsing on the couch, Gina lays her head back and closes her eyes before releasing it all. “You think I don’t know that, Gabby? You think I don’t want to roll up in a ball and forget the world? I was just at the morgue! I was the one who had to identify their bodies. I had to look at them that way—see the blood and fear on their lifeless faces. So don’t ask me why I’m not crying. I’ve already shed so many tears I’m afraid I have none left.
“You cry for me. For the both of us. I’m okay with that right now. Once it sets in, once I get those images out of my head, then I’ll join you. Then I’ll grieve. But for now, let me do this my way. Can you please give me that?”
Rising from the couch, exhaustion wearing heavy and thick on her beautiful face, she drags her feet to her room, and quietly closes the door behind her.
I’m left in the middle of our eerily empty living room with my mouth agape. I can only imagine what she had to go through—the horror of seeing my parents void of life on a cold slab—and the tears roll down my cheeks again. “What do we do now, Tommy? How will we ever be okay again?”
Hugging me close and kissing my eyes, my nose, my hands, my hair, Tommy reassures me in my darkest of moments. “I will make you whole again, Gabriella. I promise.”
Sitting still and grieving isn’t even an option. It’s always only been the four of us—our own little bubble—so the planning for what comes next lies solely on me and Gina. And I’m no help. I can’t think past the pit in my stomach long enough to make logical decisions.
Tommy’s parents stop in to bring us dinner—not that I have the urge to eat a morsel—and then leave shortly after. It’s nice of them to check on us, even if only for a half hour. My thoughts wander to my future—my parentless future—and I wonder if Mr. and Mrs. Edwards will become stand-ins as my in-laws when I do finally marry Tommy.
But those hopeful thoughts don’t last long. Any kind of future without my mother and father in it seems vacant and inconceivable. I used to daydream about what’s to come, eager to grow up, but now I wish I could freeze time. Or go back to the past. To a time when my parents were tangible.
From here on out they are only a memory.
“Gabby,” Gina sits beside me in the darkened living room, settling a stack of papers. “I need to talk to you.”
I nod, unwilling to agree or disagree. What’s the point anyway? Life calls the shots—we don’t. I have to just follow along with whatever gets tossed my way.
“Mom and Dad didn’t have a will.” Her tone is calm and unwavering. Very lawyer-ish. Good job, Gina! Way to show me how grown up you can be at a time when all I want is to be a carefree child again. I wish this was just some sick and twisted game of hide and go seek.
Staring blankly into her watery eyes, I wonder why she’s telling me this. I couldn’t care less about any money they did or didn’t have. Especially not now—mere hours since their bodies went cold. “And?” I drawl. One word is doable. Full sentences and explanations, not so much. I don’t have the energy, and I’m still miffed that she holed herself up in her room after she kind of told me to grieve alone.
“There’s no one else. I’m next of kin. That means I’m your legal guardian, sissy.”
The news stuns me. I don’t know how to process it. In a matter of hours, I’ve lost my parents and my sister. She’ll no longer be the fun loving, pain in the ass older sibling I looked up to. Now she’s forced to be my mom. She has no choice. Neither of us do. It’s incredible how life can change in one split instant. So incredibly unfair.
Defying reality because it’s too cruel to accept, I smart back, “And what the hell does that mean?” My heart is thumping so wildly against my ribcage it feels about ready to bust through.
“Gabby, I know this is a lot to process and I’m sorry it’s all happening so rapidly, but I can’t let anything happen to you. To us. We have to act quickly on this; I won’t let us be separated.” She stares down at the papers in her lap before looking back up at me. Tears well up in her eyes before gushing out like a waterfall of emotions. Her face contorts as she tries to control herself, but her lips tremble and her jaw tightens. It’s a heartrending image—to see your older always in control sister, falling apart before your eyes. It was better when she was emotionless. This is just unbearable.
I break down beside her, pulling her close and molding to her form. We need to do this together. We need to feel this together. And Tommy allows us this moment as he stays back, appraising us from the doorway with his hands covering his mouth.
I hold on to her for dear life, wishing I could stay buried in her arms forever. Or at least a few more days until the pain weakens and fades. Unfortunately, her warning rings loud in my subconscious—we need to act fast. We can’t be separated.
Readjusting myself, I think long and hard about what this guardianship would mean for my career driven sister. She’s always said she didn’t want kids. She wants a practice of her own in the city, she wants her job to be her baby. So why would she want to have to take care of me? I would only be a burden. “Why would you want that obligation, Gina? I’m sure there’s a long lost aunt or a friend who can take me in for a year until I go to college. You’re so busy with school, then you have law school. You won’t be able to manage it all. It’s not fair to you. We can find another way.”
“No!” Gina vows. “Don’t say anything like that ever again. It’s not an option, and not because there is no other choice, but because that’s the way I want it. This sucks, Gabby. I can’t see past right this second, but I do know that I won’t be able to do any of this without you. I love you so much. I loved them so much. We need to stick together to keep that love alive. It’s the only way.”
My heart breaks into even tinier fragments listening to her. As much as it pains me to force this kind of growing-up on my sister—on me too—I can’t bear to think of doing this without her. “You’re right. I don’t know how I could’ve thought otherwise. I need you now more than I ever. We need each other.”
We continue to c
ry as we hold each other. The tears never stop, only continue to fight through, emptying what little is left to feel.
The sight of us must be pathetic. I don’t know how Tommy’s watching on, staying quiet, remaining unscathed by this horror show of emotions. But he does, because that’s the kind of person he is. The kind who knows when I need him to be present in every way possible and when I need him to back off and let me be.
I want to let him comfort me. I want his touch and his love to be enough to heal my hurt, but right now it’s just not. He doesn’t understand this. He still has his parents. I don’t want to envy him for that, but I do. I pray my thoughts are only harsh because I’m irrational. I can’t put a wedge between me and Tommy because I don’t know how to let him be there for me.
He’ll have to be patient. I know he will be. It’s me I’m worried about because right now I don’t know which way is up or down and the uncertainty of it all makes me dizzy with fear.
We buried my parents on a Tuesday. It rained—poured, actually—adding another layer of morose ugliness to an already horribly depressing day.
My heart ached with immeasurable pain as we sat in church—the same second pew we’d shared together as a family on many Sundays—and I listened to the priest speak of my parents. He spoke in past tense and it made my stomach coil with panic.
My parents no longer are. Now they were.
The reality brought on a wave of nausea that I could only swallow down and force myself to ignore.
I had to learn to do that a lot in the last few weeks since the funeral; to disregard the looks of pity, the pain of moving forward because life goes on, and the fact when my parents died, they took a piece of me with them.
“Hey? You okay?” Tommy nudges me, barely penetrating my new permanent fog.
I shrug, never knowing how to answer him. No, I’m not okay. Yes, I’m slightly better than yesterday. Maybe, I’ll never be okay again.
What am I supposed to say? I can’t say anything.
So, I don’t.
First Came You (Fate #0.5) Page 5
