Eleanor & Grey

by Brittainy Cherry

  Still a lie, and still, it didn’t matter.

  The truth was, I hadn’t been sleeping. I fought against it tooth and nail each and every night. It appeared that the only time I had a decent night’s sleep was when I curled up in a bed with my daughter, who kicked in her sleep.

  “Greyson, I know with the anniversary—”

  “How’s work?” I asked, cutting into her sentence once more.

  She grimaced but sat back, knowing it was time to change the subject.

  She pushed me all the time, but she knew her limits. She knew when pushing wasn’t going to lead to a good result, so she pulled back. Claire had always been so good at reading people, and she knew how to read me inside and out, even without me speaking up on my feelings.

  “Work is good,” she told me with a small smile. She went on to talk about anything and everything else that wasn’t me. I was thankful for that because I was too tired to think about me, and I was too heartbroken to think about the days that were approaching.

  Three-to-one.

  That was how it always went. Their three votes always defeated my one.

  The problem with being the only male in your family is that you are often outnumbered when it comes to votes. I wasn’t even sure why my opinion was requested, as it never seemed to matter, but they always asked my thoughts on the topic at hand.

  “We had Italian last weekend when we went out,” I argued during our dinner debate. “Plus, we have pasta every Monday. Aren’t you guys tired of pasta?”

  “Nope,” Lorelai said, hopping into her car seat. I buckled her in quickly before getting into the driver’s seat.

  “Not really.” Karla shrugged.

  Why did they never crave steak?

  All I really wanted was a big, fat, juicy steak.

  “We should go to Palmer’s Italian House!” Karla exclaimed, making me groan even more, because it was over an hour’s drive away, and the rain was hammering down outside. It would take even longer than normal to get there.

  I looked over to Nicole and narrowed my eyes. “What do you want?” I asked her.

  Please say steak. Please say steak.

  She shrugged. “Palmer’s breadsticks do sound amazing. Plus, it is Lorelai’s birthday, so I think she should get to decide.”

  “Palmers! Palmers!” she hollered, pounding her hands against her legs.

  Welp. There it was.

  We started the trek to Palmer’s, which involved a lot of twisty roads and wooded areas.

  As I drove, I glanced down at my ringing cell phone to see Rob Turner’s name flashing on the screen. He was an employee of mine, and I knew he was working on things back at EastHouse. Normally, I answered his calls in an instant, but it was Saturday evening, and we had a strict rule in our family: No work on Saturday nights.

  Nicole noticed the name on the phone, too, and gave me a look, almost daring me to answer it, and I was quick to ignore the call. The last thing I needed was a pissed-off wife because I took a few minutes to take a phone call for work.

  “Will you stop it!” Karla barked at her younger sister, who echoed her words.

  “Will you stop it?!”

  “Mom!”

  “Mom!”

  “No, really, stop it, Lorelai!”

  “No, really, stop it, Lorelai,” Lorelai mocked right back. That was her new favorite thing, playing copycat. It drove all of us mad, but she was obsessed.

  “Girls, calm down,” I scolded. “We have a long drive to the restaurant, and I don’t want to hear it from you two back there.”

  “She keeps unbuckling my seat belt!” Karla exclaimed, her voice filled with irritation.

  Nicole snapped around quickly, pointing her finger at our daughter. “Lorelai East, we do not touch the seat belts in cars. Do you understand me?”

  “But, Mama—”

  “No buts. Keep your hands to yourself,” Nicole said, turning around as Lorelai kept pouting and Karla gloated about getting her way—which, of course, led to Lorelai’s full-blown screaming tantrum.

  The way that newly five-year-old could hit those high screeches made me think we might have the next Mariah Carey on our hands.

  “Jesus, Lorelai! Stop it right now!” Nicole said, her voice tired, but our sweet little girl just kept throwing her fit. When a girl her age thought a situation was unjust, she made sure to make it known to the whole wide world with her shrieks.

  I saw it in my wife’s eyes—her reaching her breaking point. There was only so much she could take before exhaustion took over and her anger built.

  Turning around, I hollered, “Lorelai! Can you just cool it?! It’s your birthday and this isn’t good birthday behavior and—"

  “Greyson!” Nicole shouted, making me whip back around.

  I blinked once, and within that second, everything changed.

  It only takes an instant for one’s world to be shifted upside down, mere seconds for a life filled with joy and laughter to be replaced with ultimate despair.

  Those doe eyes shone bright in the headlights.

  The fear filled both of our stares.

  I swerved.

  I swore to God, I swerved.

  The deer did, too.

  I swore to God, it swerved.

  I missed it.

  It missed me.

  A shout was heard.

  My skin crawled.

  Whose shout was that?

  Was it Lorelai’s?

  Karla’s?

  Did my wife call out in fear?

  No…

  It was me, my voice.

  Branches snapped as the car veered off the road into the dark woods. I twisted the wheel, slamming my foot against the brakes, but it didn’t work. The car kept moving until it crashed to a stop, straight into a tree.

  Head-on collision.

  Everything ached. Everything burned.

  Smoke billowed from the engine. My head pounded, my vision blurred. I couldn’t think straight as acid rose up my throat. My body was chilled as the warm, salty taste of blood slid across my lips.

  “Grey…” Her breathy voice spoke my way.

  I turned to my right, and Nicole’s forehead lay on the exploded airbag.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay.” I didn’t know why those were the words to leave my lips, but they were all that had come to mind. I tried my best to reach for her, but I was stuck. My seat belt was jammed into place, and I couldn’t move. I needed to get to her, to help her. I yanked, and yanked, hoping for it to budge, but nothing was working. “I got you, just wait,” I promised.

  She shook her head. “No. The girls.”

  I turned around, and Lorelai was screaming in her car seat, seemingly in more pain than her young body could handle. As I looked to her left, my heart leaped into my throat.

  The side window was shattered, marks of red streaked across the broken glass, and Karla was nowhere to be seen.

  Where is she? What happened? How can I get to her? How can I save her?

  Karla?

  Are you okay?

  I need to know you’re okay.

  Dammit, let me go!

  I yanked the seat belt harder and harder, using all the force I could muster, and it finally released. I reached for Nicole, but she kept shaking her head. “The girls, the girls,” she cried, her voice pained with fear and aches of the unknown.

  I slammed my body against the door, again and again. When it finally budged, I tried to hurry out of the car, but my legs gave out on me.

  I forced myself to stand and I checked on Lorelai. Even though she was crying, she seemed okay. Then, I went to find her sister. I hurried through the blinding rain in search of my daughter. “Karla!” I called once, twice, a million times. There was no reply, nothing to be heard. The thoughts that raced through my head were unwelcome, and it took everything in me to keep from falling apart.

  She’s here. She’s okay. She’s here. She has to be.

  I reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, and dialed 9-1-1
.

  No signal.

  Dead zone.

  I felt sick but couldn’t just stand there and keep trying to dial the number. I had to find my daughter.

  I kept shouting. I needed her to hear me. She had to be there. People didn’t just disappear.

  When I turned to my right, I saw her, a small figure sprawled out in front of two trees. There was blood on the tree in front of her, as if she slammed directly into it. She looked so small and still.

  So very still.

  The stillness was what scared me the most.

  “No…” I whispered, hurrying over and falling down beside her. “Karla, it’s me, it’s Dad. Wake up, honey. Wake up,” I begged as tears streamed from my eyes, intermixing with the rain that mocked us as it fell from the sky. “Karla, wake up. You’re okay, alright? We’re okay. We’re okay. We’re okay.”

  “Oh, my God,” a voice called out. I turned around to see headlights shining toward me as someone walked forward. “Are you okay, sir?” the stranger asked.

  I narrowed my eyes at the figure as it grew closer. “We need help,” I cried, thankful to see him. “I can’t g-get a signal, c-can’t call for help.”

  “Okay, okay.” He nodded once, his fear setting in as his eyes fell on Karla. The way he stared showed me the truth I knew—she wasn’t okay. I couldn’t deal with that idea, though.

  “She’s fine. She’s okay,” I promised, even though my promises were much more likely lies.

  “You’re bleeding,” the man said quietly, his tone coated in concern.

  What? No.

  I unbuttoned my jacket and touched my side, crimson staining my fingertips.

  My eyes glazed over as I looked down to my white shirt, which was tainted red. Realization set in as my body began to sting with pain. Vomit began to rise from the pit of my stomach as the man moved in closer. “Let me help you.”

  “No, I’m okay,” I told him, feeling far from fine. I felt sick, nauseous, faint. “Just go call for help.”

  “But—”

  “Please!”

  He nodded in agreement and hurried away.

  I kept holding my daughter in my arms, lowering my forehead to hers, wanting nothing more than for her to be okay, for her to open her eyes, to look my way and tell me she was going to be okay, but she couldn’t. So, I kept repeating the words over and over again. “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay…”

  She couldn’t hear me.

  She couldn’t see me.

  She couldn’t feel that I was there.

  My vision blurred even more as I waited for help to come.

  “Karla…” I whispered, shaking her. “Karla, answer me…please…” I cried. “Karla!”

  35

  Eleanor

  “Karla, do you want to join us for dinner?” I asked as she walked past the dining room to get her dinner from the kitchen. I asked her every night, and every time she gave the same monotone response: “Nope.”

  She picked up her plate, and when she crossed back toward the dining room, she paused. We all did.

  Out of nowhere, “Karla! No!” was hollered from a different room as Lorelai and I sat up straighter. Karla stood taller. Our conversation stopped, and we looked up, a bit confused as the yelling continued. “No! No!” the voice hollered, obviously coming from Greyson’s office.

  I slid back in my chair and stood up. Lorelai and Karla both looked nervous, but I smiled at them. “Stay here, girls. I’m just going to go check out what’s happening.”

  I walked off toward Greyson’s office, and my stomach knotted up because it sounded as if he was in deep despair.

  “Greyson…?” I called out, knocking first. No answer. I knocked again, still, nothing. Then, I twisted the doorknob and opened his office door to find a sleeping Greyson at his desk tossing and turning.

  He was in deep despair, obviously having a terrible nightmare, and it didn’t appear as if he’d awake from it any time soon. I walked in slowly and I tapped him once on the shoulder. “Hey, wake up.” He didn’t stop thrashing. I tapped him harder a few more times. “Greyson, wake up!”

  He shot up, wide-eyed and terrified.

  I placed a comforting hand on his shoulder to try to shake the fear away from him. “It’s okay, you’re fine. It was a dream.”

  He looked at me, his eyes still wide as ever, and ripped his shoulder free of my touch. He looked around, alert, and then his eyes glared back at me. “What are you doing in here?” he barked, obviously shaken.

  “I, um, we heard you shouting. I just wanted to check in on you to make sure you were all right.”

  “Are you okay, Daddy?” a small voice said.

  We both looked up to the doorframe where Lorelai was standing with a worried expression on her face.

  Greyson cleared his throat and tried to regain his composure as he sat up straight and adjusted his tie. “I’m fine.”

  “You were screaming,” Lorelai commented, still concerned about her father.

  Just then Karla appeared in the doorway. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked him.

  “Nothing. I’m fine!” he snapped, making all of us jump out of our skin. He slide his hands over his face and sighed. “Sorry. I’m fine. Please, go back to what you were doing.”

  “But, Daddy…” Lorelai started, her eyes watering over.

  I offered the girls a smile I hoped would reassure them. “He’s okay, Lorelai. Just a bad dream. How about you head back to the dining room and we’ll finish our dinner.”

  “He’s not okay!” Karla barked out, staring at her father. “Nothing about him is okay! Nothing about this house is okay and I’m sick of acting like everything’s okay when it’s just not!” she cried before walking away as quickly as she could.

  Lorelai stayed still with tears in her eyes.

  “Lorelai, everything’s all right,” I told her. “Just go back to the table. I’ll be right there.”

  Warily, Lorelai did as she was told, and I released the breath I’d been holding. I turned back to Greyson, who was now standing and staring out his office window with his back to me. “Are you alright?”

  He turned to face me. His head flinched a little as he wrung his fingers together tightly and spoke. “Yes, Eleanor. I’m all right.”

  “If you aren’t—”

  “Eleanor.”

  “Yes?”

  “Close the door on the way out.”

  I did as he said, knowing he was already on edge and not wanting to push him over it. I used to have those same kinds of nightmares after Mom’s death. It wasn’t an uncommon thing at all. It happened to many people after tragedy struck. I remembered being terrified to close my eyes because I wasn’t certain where my dreams would take me. I wasn’t worried about his dreams, but what concerned me most was how Greyson didn’t seem like the type to talk to anyone about his suffering.

  He kept his hurts all to himself, which was the easiest way to drown.

  I stayed a bit later with Lorelai that night after I put her to bed, because I knew she was a bit shaken up by her father’s outburst. That was something that happened with aging—the older you were, the scarier life became, and Lorelai was at that age where things were becoming a bit scarier.

  “You okay?” I asked her, walking over and sitting on the edge of her bed.

  She nodded as she hugged her pillow. “Is Daddy okay?”

  “Yeah, he’s okay. He just had a bad dream.”

  “He has a lot of bad dreams,” she whispered, her voice so low and timid.

  “Really? Does he shout in his sleep a lot?”

  “Yes. Sometimes it wakes me up when I’m sleeping. Is he really okay?”

  I smiled, even though I wanted to frown. I combed my hands through the little girl’s hair, and bent down to give her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Yes, he’s okay. He’s just working through some stuff, that’s all.”

  She nodded, being more understanding than should have been possible for such a young girl. “I miss
him.”

  “You miss him?”

  “Yeah, he used to hang out with me, but now…” Her words trailed away and she frowned. “I miss Mommy, too. She was my best friend, her and Daddy.”

  Oh, sweetheart…

  “And Karla. She was my bestest friend, but she never wants to play anymore,” Lorelai explained. “She’s just kind of grumpy now.”

  My heart hurt for her. My heart hurt for all of them. Their lives were tangled up in tragedy, and nothing could really change that.

  When Lorelai finally fell asleep, I gathered my things to head home for the night, and as I walked past Greyson’s office, I noticed the door was open, which wasn’t normal.

  He stood in front of his fireplace with a glass in his grip, and his stare was so hard. His brows were knitted as he inhaled and exhaled. I wished I could slide into his brain and see the workings of his mind. He seemed to think so many things yet never released those thoughts. The amount of pressure that sat on his shoulders seemed so heavy.

  “Hey,” I said softly, and he snapped around to face me. When he looked my way, he looked confused as to why I was speaking to him. “I, um, I was just going to head home for the night. The girls are in their rooms.”

  He nodded once. “Thank you.”

  “Lorelai was really worried tonight.”

  “There was nothing to be worried about.”

  “Well, I disagree…” I took a step toward him and lowered my voice. “She said it happens quite often.”

  “What happens?”

  “Your night terrors.”

  He tilted his head toward me and those cold eyes locked with mine. “I don’t have night terrors.”

  “Yes.” I nodded. “You do, and it’s completely normal after the tragedy your family has been through. After my mother passed away, I couldn’t sleep. Remember? You’d call me. You’d call and sit on the phone with me and—”

  “Please don’t.”

  “Please don’t what?”

  He stepped closer to me, and his voice lowered so much it cracked with his next words. “Please don’t do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Make it so clear that I’m failing this family.”