by Aimee Bishop
And then she was gone. I turned to look up at Dr. Bertram, nodding vacantly, not sure if he’d just said something I should be responding to. Everything seemed so surreal.
"Suzanna is in here," he said, pointing to the nearest door.
I knew what was just behind it. Suzanna lay in there dying. I could feel the sadness from the room, could sense the deep, overwhelming misery that came from within. It drifted out like a black cloud.
"Are your parents able to get here?" asked Dr. Bertram.
"They’re on a boating trip in Florida," I said.
He nodded sympathetically and reached for the door handle.
"I have to warn you that she's seriously injured and..."
"How long does she have?"
He looked down at his shoes.
"She's being kept alive on life support at the moment," he said. "And I'm afraid she's brain dead, with little to no chance of recovery."
Brain dead, I thought. What does that mean? That there's truly nothing in there? That she's gone already? I wasn't religious in the least, but as soon as he pushed the door open and guided me inside, I just knew that her soul had already left her body. What I was looking at wasn't the Suzanna I knew. This was a body covered in a mass of tangled tubes and dried blood.
"No!"
I rushed to her side, but I couldn't bear to see her. Closing my eyes, I reached over and held her tight. She smelled like the heat from the burning car and the antiseptic of the hospital.
"Suze? Can you hear me?"
There was no response, just the beeping of the heart monitor.
"Suze!"
She lay limp in my arms, lifeless. I looked into her face for a few moments, taking in everything about her. If this was the last time I'd ever see her, I didn't want to forget a thing. A deep gash lay across her forehead, the blood so dark it was almost black. Her face was bruised all over, her cheekbones misshapen from where they had broken. But she looked so peaceful, so at ease. If it weren't for the injuries, you could think she was sleeping.
I was just grateful that her daughter, Gracie wasn't here to see her mother like this and that she was too young to understand. But what would her life look like now, with her dad gone and her mother possibly gone as well?
Dr. Bertram shook his head.
He looked into my eyes and held my gaze, then looked up at the clock.
"I'll give you a moment," he said. "When you're ready we can..."
I stared at him, waiting to hear what we had to do.
"So we can what?"
He sighed and looked back down at the floor.
"Switch off the life support machines."
Even though I'd been holding her, even though I could see how bad she'd been hurt, it wasn't until I'd heard him say those words that it all clicked into place. The realization fell on top of me like the weight of the world. The sister who had been so close to me for all my life was now gone.
The doctor bowed his head and left the room. All I could do was sob.
"Suze? Wake up."
She didn't move a muscle. I lay my head on her chest and listened to the breaths that were being mechanically pumped into her chest.
"Suzanna, please! I can't live without you!"
Still, there was nothing but the beep of the heart monitor. I looked into her face and knew that there was no point in prolonging the pain any longer. I thought about waiting for mom and dad to arrive, but I couldn't bear the thought of them seeing her like this. I had to let her go.
When Dr. Bertram returned, he told me he was checking in to see if I was ready. Then he asked me again, "Are you sure? You don't have to rush this."
"I'm ready," I said. "I can't stand seeing her like this."
Nurses soon flooded the room and there was a flurry of activity, the sound of the dials on the machines being twisted and turned and the noise of the heart monitor slowing. Soon the beeps became more sporadic, and I knew it was coming.
I grabbed Suzanna's hand and wept.
"I love you, sis."
She let out one last breath, and she was gone. As her heart registered on the monitor one last time, I was sure I felt her squeeze my hand.
Chapter 3
Mom hadn't stopped crying since the funeral, but she had gotten better at hiding it. She emerged from her bedroom with baby Gracie in her arms, her eyes red and raw from hours of sobbing.
"Hey," she whispered, her voice hoarse.
"I made you some tea," I said and handed her a cup.
As soon as mom and dad had arrived from Florida, I'd insisted they come live with me, and of course, Gracie had to come too. We'd been walled up in here ever since, insulated by our grief, but we were together. We were a new family now, one that was bonding even closer through our tears.
I'd spent the last few weeks making endless cups of tea and walking from room to room trying to busy myself with meaningless tasks, anything to stop the tears. Meanwhile, mom doted on Gracie. Looking after her was the only way she could cope, but it was so obvious to see that every time she looked into her granddaughter’s eyes, she was seeing Suzanna's.
All dad could do was watch TV, although we knew he wasn't paying attention. He'd barely said a word since the funeral, had barely even looked at us. He was retreating into his own mind, losing himself in his memories.
"I don't think I can drink another cup," said mom.
"Will you at least try to eat something?"
"Later," she said, but I knew she wouldn't.
Gracie was still babbling in her arms, oblivious to the sadness around her. Maybe it was better that way. If she was a little older she would have memories of her parents and would know what she had missed out on. But it wasn't long until her first birthday, and I knew that the day was going to be the saddest of all. Her first birthday without her mommy and daddy to sing to her. Her first birthday with just us.
"What time is it?" asked mom. "It's not long until we have to be at the office."
"Quarter to eleven. What time do we need to be there?"
"Twelve," mumbled dad from his armchair. "Fuck, I hate lawyers."
The day after the funeral, we'd received a call from Suzanna and David's attorney’s asking us to meet him, but it seemed so soon to be dealing with legal things. We needed peace to process our loss, needed more time to at least try and heal.
When he’d called for the third time, we knew we had to bite the bullet. Life goes on. We had to meet him.
"I don't want to go meet some lawyer," I said as I took Gracie out of mom's arms. "I hate lawyers too."
I watched dad as he pulled himself to his feet and stepped into his shoes. He had aged so fast over the last few weeks, his spine hunching over so that he was no longer the tall, handsome man he was when I was a child. Now it seemed as though he had shrunk, and his eyes were dark and distant. His hair, which had once been black like onyx was now peppered with gray streaks, and his skin was leathery and wrinkled.
"Leeches," he said. "They'll be trying to take advantage of us."
"That's nonsense, Drew," said mom. "It'll just be a formality. There'll be some paperwork to deal with. That's all."
I listened to them bicker as I took Gracie upstairs to get dressed. As I pulled her tiny arms through the sleeves of her cardigan, she moved to face the window, and her eyes caught the sunlight. For a split second, I could see the spirit of Suzanna in her face. She looked just like her, and it took all my strength not to cry. I'd shed too many tears. I had to be strong now.
"We're going on a car trip," I said to Gracie.
She flapped her arms up and down in response.
Downstairs, there was a knock on the front door. Probably just another neighbor dropping in with a casserole, I thought. There'd been dozens of them over the last few weeks, but only dad had eaten them. Now the casserole dishes were stacked up on one side of the kitchen like a ceramic scrapyard.
Through the floor, I could hear the sound of a voice. There was a forced laugh, the sound of someone talking
fast.
I picked up Gracie and descended the stairs.
"Cheryl!"
"Steph!” She rushed over to hug me. "And little Gracie."
She kissed her on the cheek and Gracie screwed up her face.
"Aw, don't be like that."
Gracie screwed up her face even more.
"Twelve o'clock, right?" said Cheryl.
"I wasn’t expecting you to come," I said. "It'll be boring. We'll just be talking to some stuffy lawyer."
"I want to be there," said Cheryl.
I was secretly thrilled that she'd remembered to show up. As much as I had mom and dad beside me, I needed Cheryl too. I'd known her as long as I’d known Suzanna, and she was grieving her loss too. She had as much a right to be there as the rest of us.
"Thanks," I said and kissed Cheryl on the cheek.
She opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself as the tears came.
"I... I just can't believe it."
Mom took Gracie out my arms and began putting on her coat. Cheryl latched onto me in her place, sobbing into my shoulder.
"I still can't believe it either," I said.
"It's just so unfair. That things like that can happen."
She lifted her head and dragged her sleeve across her face. Behind her, dad was pulling his car keys off the hook by the front door and wrapping his scarf around his neck.
"We better leave to beat the traffic," he said.
“What you mean is, 'Quit crying and let's get on with it;” Cheryl quipped, teasing him as she always did. Growing up she’d been over so much that she’d been like a second sister. She’d spent so many mealtimes with our family that she was just part of it, and she’d always been the only one who could get away with teasing Dad.
“Get in the car,” he told her gruffly, reaching out to ruffle her hair.
Cheryl’s answering smile was brief but tender.
We all piled into the car, mom and dad up front with Gracie in her car seat between Cheryl and me. It felt so strange, so unfair that we were now thrust together into this makeshift family.
"What do you think they’re going to tell us," I asked as dad pulled out of the driveway.
"We'll find out when we get there," he said.
Chapter 4
"Looks like it's going to be a tight squeeze."
Sebastian Jenkins was standing in the doorway in a pinstripe suit with his hair slicked back. There was a pencil thin mustache resting just below his nose. I couldn't believe that Suzanna knew someone like this. He looked like the biggest crook I'd ever seen, but here he was, claiming to be her lawyer as he ushered us into his office.
It was cramped, and not quite what I'd expected. On the way over I'd imagined a book-lined room filled with mahogany furniture and a polite assistant to make us cups of coffee, but this looked more like a storage room. There were papers strewn all over the floor and only two seats. Mom and dad took them, and Cheryl and I stood behind them, Gracie in my arms.
I looked around for signs of some sort of proof that this guy knew what he was doing, but all I could see were bags of garbage piled up against the chipped plasterboard walls.
"It's a pleasure to meet you all," he said as he took a seat on the other side of his scratched desk.
"We wish we didn't have to meet you at all," said dad.
He was never the most tactful person, and over the last few weeks, he'd shed any politeness he once pretended to maintain.
"Obviously," said Jenkins. "This is a terrible time for you all, and for me of course. David was my nephew."
"Oh, I see," said mom. “And Christian?”
We’d met Christian very briefly at the funeral– it had been an odd meeting, at best. He was apparently David’s brother, but he had none of David’s open friendliness, his kind demeanor. In fact, he’d watched us like a hawk the whole time, like we were making off with the family silver somehow.
It was… bizarre. But David’s association with this Sebastian Jenkins… well, it made sense now. There was no way they would have sought out this guy, but if he were in the family, then it would seem obvious that his uncle would deal with their affairs, even if that uncle looked as though he was one of the main plotters of the Valentine’s Day Massacre.
"As I'm sure you're aware, Suzanna and David drew up a will after the birth of Gracie."
"No, I was not aware of that," I said.
By all the confused looks in the room, it appeared that nobody else was aware of it either. We all watched with wary eyes as Jenkins pulled a piece of paper out of a file and began to read. Part of me was expecting him to say he was going to inherit everything.
"Let me begin," he said, and cleared his throat rather dramatically. "In the case of our deaths, should this unfortunate occurrence afflict us..."
Those were not Suzanna or David's words, I thought. But I could guess whose they were.
"We only have one wish. That our entire monetary savings be transferred to our daughter Gracie. Furthermore, should there be a situation in which we are no longer here to care for her, we wish that Suzanna's sister, Stephanie, should have sole custody of Gracie."
I thought my heart had stopped. Taking a deep breath, I held Gracie tighter and looked down at mom. She looked crestfallen, almost betrayed that she couldn't be trusted with her only grandchild.
"Stephanie has always been the closest person to Suzanna," continued Jenkins. "And because of this, we feel that Gracie would have a flourishing life under her care. However, there is one stipulation to this. Should our daughter arrive in Stephanie's care, we must also state that she must be raised in the family home of Solder's Farm where Gracie was born. The deeds of which are also to be transferred to Stephanie. Lastly, any belongings we leave behind are to be divided between Stephanie and our parents…”
I stopped listening to him. Instead, I felt myself begin to shake, and before I began crying in front of everyone, I walked out the room.
"Sorry, I'm sorry," I said as I walked away.
But it didn't matter anyway because Jenkins had said his piece and it was final. I was to inherit the farm and overnight I was to become a mother. As I looked into Gracie's eyes, I saw how much she looked like Suzanna and how vulnerable she was in my arms. She was so small, so young and delicate, but she could be spared the suffering we had endured. She could have a normal upbringing on her parents' farm, and when she was older, I could tell her all about Suzanna and David and how they adored her.
Mom caught up with me in the reception waiting room where I was propping myself up against the water cooler. Her eyes were watery and her face pale and drawn.
"You must be pleased," she said without being able to hide the bitterness in her voice.
"I'm... I'm just shocked. There's nothing to be pleased about."
"You get Gracie."
"I do," I said and held her even tighter.
She was the only silver lining in this, the only thing that kept us all going.
"And you get the farm."
"I don't want the farm!"
We both sat down, and mom wrapped an arm around me. I leaned into her side and stared toward Jenkin's office. There was a heated discussion taking place in there between him and my dad.
"She's our granddaughter!" Dad raged.
"I'm sorry. It's a legal document," Jenkins retorted. "It's what your daughter wanted. If it’s any comfort to you, Suzanna told me that she knew you two were enjoying being retired and finally getting to do the things you’ve always wanted to do. She didn’t want to take that from you by asking you to support a child. It was a kindness on her part."
Mom and I sat in silence for a few minutes. There was nothing to say to make the situation bearable, nothing that could numb the pain.
"You'll be moving out to Solder’s Town," said mom.
"I don't want to do that."
"It's what they wanted."
"But it's in the middle of nowhere," I said. "I'll have to quit my job."
Mom kissed my che
ek and took Gracie's hand.
"It's not that far. An hour and a half on the highway and think about all the animals. You always said you wanted to be a vet."
"Mom, I was, like, five when I said that. I'm no good with cows and sheep and being knee deep in crap."
Gracie yawned and burrowed into my chest. I breathed in her smell. Her cardigan still captured the scent of her mother's favorite washing detergent, jojoba and vanilla.
"Think of Gracie," said mom. "Her mom and dad wanted her to be raised in the country. It was their wish."
"Can't we raise her here? In my house in the city where she can be close to everything she needs."
Mom gave me a sideways glance. The answer was obvious. I was going to be leaving everything behind, I was going to become a mother, and Solder’s Farm was going to be my new home.
Chapter 5
ONE MONTH LATER
"Get used to it; you're a farmer now."
"I'll never get used to it."
Cheryl and I were sitting in the car staring at the house. It looked so lonely, the ramshackle bricks of the building sagging so that the windows drooped down. To me, without Suzanna and David here it looked like even the house was crying.
"I still can't believe it."
In the back, Gracie was in her car seat. She was too young to understand what was happening, but she could clearly recognize the house. She jiggled up and down with excitement.
"Moo moo..." I said to Gracie, pointing in the direction of the cows in the barn.
"Come on," said Cheryl, "Let's get your stuff inside."
The last few weeks had passed in a daze. The first thing that had needed to be attended to was the paperwork as I officially adopted Gracie. Mom and Dad watched over the occasion, mom fighting back the tears the whole time. After that, I’d resigned from my job, something I'd wanted to do for so long. Then, it was all systems go and the days flew by in a flurry of packing.
The house was now right in front of me, ready and waiting for me to make it my home. But I wasn't ready just yet. I felt like an intruder, like I was stealing all of David and Suzanna's things. Like I was stealing their lives.
