by Lisa Heaton
“You can have them if you want.” He watched her intently. The look on her face caused his heart to break, for he appreciated what it felt like to be seeing all these things again after many years away. While living there, Trevor kept everything as it was. He was meticulous in the care he took with their home. For the most part, the house looked the same when he returned home. His first night there alone, he cried in nearly every room. Everywhere he looked he saw Robin and recalled how excited she was when they first moved in. Every coat of paint or the smallest change he made sent her over the top. He could hardly remember her ever being so happy. With the baby on the way, being back near her parents, and having her own home, she was happy and content. He destroyed all that.
“No.” Sliding the plates back into the cabinet, she asked, “Do you have paper plates? Then you won’t have to clean up a mess.”
“Right here.” He pulled two plates from the same cabinet she originally chose for paper plates. Did she notice, he wondered?
Making their plates, they moved outside to eat on the patio. There, she found she was able to recover from the onslaught of memories and turmoil she experienced inside. Small talk was easy for them. They knew so many people in common, and that seemed to be a safe enough topic. He caught her up on his family and she on hers.
“I got my old job back, though I never dreamed such a thing could be possible. I had to go before the town counsel for a vote. It was the most unnerving thing I have ever done, and I didn’t dare to even hope, but they said yes.”
Smiling, she offered, “I bet it was unanimous.”
Nodding, he asked, “How did you know?”
“Everyone loves you here.” Finishing, with half a burger remaining, she leaned back in her chair. “That was wonderful. Thank you.” When he pointed to the second half and arched his eyebrows, she knew he wanted to finish it. “Go ahead. I am full.” He had already eaten two burgers plus her half. She was astounded when he ate another with no bun. “You’ll be sick.”
He chuckled. “You obviously have a bad memory.” Immediately, he regretted saying it, as he had tried to be careful not to bring up anything about the past or things that might be painful for her. Quickly, he added, “I still eat like a horse.”
Unable to avoid it, Robin noticed how much bigger Mike was than when she saw him the year before. His chest was so broad that his t-shirt fit snugly, more so than she had ever seen in past years. Once, when he reached across the table for the mustard, his sleeve slid up over his massive bicep, exposing the bottom of the letters of his tattoo. It was her name, and she wondered what it must feel like to look at it every day. It made her sad, causing a knot to form in her stomach, and from that point on, she could hardly help but wonder what his new life was like, the one where she had no place.
Within seconds of her arrival, he saw she was not wearing a wedding ring. He had spent many an hour wondering about the man who ran to her side that day at the lake. And he was pretty sure, too, that she noticed he still wore his ring. It was in with his personal belongings when he was released from prison. Since slipping it back on that day, he had not taken it off and had no intention of it. Although propositioned often, actually almost daily, he had no interest in any other woman than his wife. There was not a great deal of single men around town, so he seemed to be the target of more than a few lonely women. He avoided them like the plague when he could. Though they knew of his history, it did not seem to deter any of them, which was perplexing to him.
When she became so suddenly quiet, Mike could help but wonder if she was trying to get her nerve up. Hoping to help her, he offered, “If you are here about the house, I told you before, it’s yours to sell or whatever you want to do with it. If you will give me a little time, I will check into a loan. Or if you want it back…”
Holding her hand up, she stopped him. “No. I will never move back here. You keep the house. I’m glad you have been able to start a new life here, and thankful Trevor stepped in and took things over the way he did.” Trevor was two years younger than Mike. With the history of chaos and upheaval they shared, they remained close, the only constants either of them ever knew growing up. So when she realized she would be staying with Emma indefinitely, she called Trevor to see if he would move in. Releasing her of the responsibility of it, he took care of the maintenance, utilities, and taxes, everything she would have had difficulty doing from such a long distance.
Though her admission stung, it did not surprise him in the least, having never anticipated she would return. What was left for her there?
“He was able to save up a down payment for his own house while he was here. I know he is really thankful for that.” Realizing he had not told her earlier, he added, “He is getting married in a few months. Great lady. She has a little girl from a previous marriage. Trevor is crazy about both of them.”
“Tell him I wish him the best.”
“I will.”
The moment had finally come, and no matter how difficult it seemed, she headed straight into it. “Look, Mike, the reason I came is that I wanted to tell you something. When you came to see me that day, you asked me to forgive you, and I never responded to that.”
Leaning up in his chair, he propped his elbows on his knees and looked at her intently. His heart began to pound even harder than when he first looked up and saw her standing by the gate. “You don’t owe me anything, and you sure didn’t have to come all this way…”
“This is for me. I need to say this. I need you to know that I forgive you. It has taken a lot of soul searching and a whole lot of time with the Lord, but I do forgive you.”
He was on the verge of tears, afraid if he started to cry, she might too, and she hated crying. Actually, she always said he was much more girly than she was since he would choke up at a movie long before she would.
“I also need to ask you to forgive me for shooting you.” Her words brought with them vivid memories of the sight of him lying there, bleeding profusely. At the recollection, she began to weep openly, admitting, “I can hardly believe I did it. Your gun was just there, and the next thing I know, I was pulling the trigger.”
Moving quickly from his chair, he knelt before her. Though he had no right to touch her in such a familiar way, he took her face in his hands, saying with great conviction, “Don’t you ever blame yourself. I nearly killed you that night.” He began to cry with her. “Baby, I saw the photos of what I did to you. Saying I am sorry could never be enough. But as for you, don’t ever regret it. That’s the night Jesus finally got to me. I’ve never been the same since. I will never be the same.”
After years in and out of church with Robin, it took that night to finally open his eyes and his heart. Once he began to serve time, having been a cop, he was kept in isolation most of his incarceration. He did very little but read his Bible and whatever other books about God he could get his hands on. Since then, all things within and without were new.
“That night, I was so scared of dying. Not as much of dying, as I was of going to hell. I knew I would, and I knew that was not where you would be. I think that’s what scared me most.” With his hands still holding her face, he moved his thumbs to wipe the tears from beneath her eyes. “I have to tell you, and somehow I just know this deep down inside, if I had not called on Him that night, He would have let me die. I certainly deserved it.”
His words completed the unraveling of a stitch. Memories of picking up that gun and walking into the kitchen haunted her as much as the beating that came before it. It was forgiveness that she needed. She had already been forgiven by God, and she had even learned to forgive herself, but ultimately, she longed for Mike’s forgiveness. Able to look back with great pity on the girl who was so tormented and battered that she could be driven to such an act, this day would be her final release.
Though she had not planned to tell him, and it was something she never even admitted to Chris, she felt led to say, “After I shot you, I turned the gun on myself. I remember thinking ther
e was nothing left. After Michael, then what happened between us, I was certain there was nothing else to live for.”
He wept as remorsefully as the day he knelt with her at the lake. Sitting back on his heels, hands still resting on her knees he allowed her to finish.
“There you were, blood pouring out onto the kitchen floor, and I knew I couldn’t let you die. So I called an ambulance, with every intention of shooting myself afterward. But when I came back to you…” Covering her face with her hands, for a moment, she was unable to go on.
“You don’t have to do this.” Reminiscent of the day they buried Mikey, he wrapped his arms around her while they both sobbed. It was a rare occasion to see her so devastated. Holding her close, he allowed her to cry as long as she needed. With her head resting on his shoulder and his cheek against her hair, lightly, he stroked the back of her head.
Eventually, she raised her head, knowing she had to continue on. It had to be brought out into the light. “I don’t know how much you remember, but you were conscious, just barely. I kneeled down beside you and lifted your head into my lap. You told me you loved me and asked me not to leave you. I realized then I had to stay with you until help arrived. I could never leave you alone and so scared.
“Next thing I knew, there were police and paramedics. People were shouting and it all became a blur. Once they put us into separate ambulances, no one would tell me anything about you. For the longest time, I thought you must be dead.”
Resting his head on her lap, he continued to cry. Over and over he told her how sorry he was. Stroking the back of his head just as he had done hers, she tried to comfort him. His hair was thick and coarse and reminded her she knew every inch of this man. This was her husband.
Several minutes passed, until finally he stood and moved back to his chair. Wiping his face with a napkin, he sat looking at her, amazed by her words and by her heart. “You are the kindest woman I have ever known.” He meant it. After the way he battered her, a black eye one day, bruises on her wrists another, he knocked her around and demoralized her, still she actually asked him for forgiveness. Not a day went by that he did not think of her, and pray for her, regret the things he did to her, and especially grieve her absence from his life. Always, he remembered the good things about her, and those memories were the source of great joy and great sorrow simultaneously.
“I’m so sorry that things turned out this way.”
“I’m sorry too, Rob.”
Recovered enough to drive, and anxious to get to her next destination, she stood, saying, “I should go now.”
He stood and walked with her to the car. Opening the door for her, he asked, “Have you gone to see Mikey yet?”
“No. That’s where I am headed now.”
“Do you want me to drive you? I know it will be difficult.”
“I think I should go alone.”
“I understand.” Wondering where she would go afterwards, he asked, “So, where are you staying?”
“The Ramada.”
“In Raleigh?” There were hotels nearby, so he found it strange she chose to stay so far away. It was best that he not ask though.
“Yes.”
“Be careful on the drive back then.” When she sat down in the car, he squatted beside her, regretting that he did not hug her good-bye. This would be the last time he saw her, and that realization caused tears to spring to his eyes again.
“You okay?” Reaching out, she stroked her hand along his cheek. It was rough and unshaven. Smiling at him, she was struck afresh by how handsome he was. He was beautiful, with a smile that caused her to melt, even still. Always the most attractive boy in school, in the town even, and he used to be hers.
Nodding, he did not trust himself to speak. Finally, after swallowing hard to choke back his tears, he told her, “I’m so grateful you came.”
“Thanks for letting me come and clear the air.”
“Drive safely.” He stood, shut the car door, and watched as she started the engine, made a loop around the tall oak near the driveway, and roll slowly away. The moment compared to the day they lowered Mikey’s casket into the ground, that feeling of a forever good-bye. His heart went with her and his chest felt painfully hollow.
Inside the house, he went and stood before Michael’s closed door. Though he entered occasionally, it was usually only to dust. Each time he did, while in there, he felt the air to be too heavy to breathe. Turning the knob, he pushed the door open and simply stood in the doorway without going fully into the room. For the most part, all his son’s things were packed away upstairs. All that remained in the blue room was the crib, dresser, and a rocking chair sitting beside the window.
The day Michael died Robin called him hysterical, saying he was not breathing. Mike beat the paramedics to the house, and this is where he found her, holding their dead baby in her arms, rocking him. From that moment on, nothing was ever the same. A part of her died too that day, and for him, each day became a struggle to hold on to the one thing he had left, which was her. When the feeling of detachment from her set in, along with it came the most dreadful sense of resentment he had ever known.
“God, forgive me for how much I hated You.” He had said it a million times, and deep down he knew he was forgiven, but anytime a memory such as this stirred him, he reminded the Lord of his regret. If only he had known Him then, he would have healed and been able to help his wife heal. Instead, he battled God and lost.
Sitting in his truck at the cemetery, Mike debated whether he should leave. He was parked beside Robin’s rental car. Having waited more than an hour before leaving home, he assumed she would be gone by the time he arrived. The fact that she was still out in the cemetery, and it was getting so close to dark, concerned him. Deciding to check on her, he made his way to Mikey’s graveside.
Standing quietly behind her for a moment, he finally said, “I’m sorry. I thought you would be gone, or I would have never come.”
She was sitting on the grass with her knees bent up to her chest, hugging her legs. Without turning to look at him, she assured, “It’s okay. I didn’t realize I would be here so long either.”
He sat near but not too near her. “I feel guilty when I leave.”
Turning to him, she nodded. “That is exactly what I feel, like I am leaving him here all alone.” She knew her son was not there in that grave. Rather, she knew he was in heaven, and this was just a place where his little body rested. Still, to stand up and walk away made her feel as if she were abandoning him. After he died, she came to sit beside his grave nearly every day. Mike never knew. Always, she would wait until he was gone to work, and with nothing at home to give her purpose, she would drive out and spend hours. When she finally accepted the job at the car dealer, she reduced her trips to the weekends. It was a small step toward moving forward, or at least she thought so at the time.
Though he would have been certain just moments before he could not possibly cry anymore, again, he was on the verge tears. So he just sat quietly and watched his wife look at her son’s grave. How many times had he watched her do this very thing? After Mikey died, she came faithfully. It took some time for him to realize just how often, but after a week or two, he discovered she was going every day. Regularly, on his lunch break, he would drive out, knowing she would be there. He never approached her, but he watched her, concerned she may never recover. It was after the first two months that he began falling to pieces along with her, never sure what was worse, losing his son or watching his wife come undone. From there forward, he simply felt as if he were falling down some giant hole and there was no bottom to it.
After several quiet moments, he offered, “You and I are the only ones who can understand this grief. I know other parents grieve lost children, but I mean him, Michael. No one else can understand what it feels like to sit here by his grave, knowing we will never see him again.” Reaching out, he rubbed his hand across her back. “I have been here so many times this past year and each time I wonder, will
it ever stop hurting this badly? Today is the first day it doesn’t hurt quite as much. I think maybe because you are here, and I know that you share the same burden.” Looking at her, he asked, “Does that make sense at all?”
“Yes, I think it does.” She vividly recalled what it was like to stand over the fresh grave of her son. Then, Mike was by her side, and somehow, that made the day bearable. Otherwise, she was certain she could have never made it through. He had always been her rock. That recollection led her to pray silently, “Now You are my Rock.”
Taking her hand, he lifted it to his lips and kissed her knuckle. “I am so sorry I couldn’t help you through it. I was never sure what to say or do or how to make it better for you.”
She considered telling him of the things she had researched about PTSD, but the grief of the moment prevented it. It was suffocating her, so all she could say was, “We both did the best we could with what we had at the time.”
He continued holding her hand, and for a moment, he really did feel whole again. The years without her had been incredibly empty. Though he knew the Lord was ever with him, he felt her absence always. Appropriately, the verse about it not being good for man to be alone came to mind. No, it wasn’t good at all. Sometimes though, man orchestrates his own solitude.
“I never napped. I can’t for the life of me remember why I took a nap that day.”
The expression on her face tore at his heart. “Don’t do that.”
“If I had been awake, I would have known something was wrong.”
“If you had been awake, you would have been doing laundry or cleaning. You would have thought he was sleeping. He always slept well. You cannot possibly blame yourself.” Thinking for a minute, he tried to remember. “And you were up, off and on during the night. That’s why you took a nap.”
“Why?” She could not remember.
“I don’t know. You just couldn’t sleep.”
It would always make her wonder. How could she have been asleep while her baby needed her?
