Convincing You I'm Me

Chapter 5: Blame

The house is so quiet, so empty. Some days she'd laugh so loud that I could hear her even when I was drilling in the yard. I sit on the couch in the dark, waiting hopelessly for her laugh--but it doesn't come. It will never come again. 

Never, is suddenly such a long time. 

We arrived back from the wake over an hour ago. I'm slightly drunk, slightly dizzy and slightly seeing spots. The kids are in bed, but I keep hearing the baby cry. I hear him cry and it kills me that I can't be near him, that I can't even look at him. It just makes me break down all over again.

"Sitting in the dark now."

A light flicks to life and I bury my head with my hands, biting into my fist.

"Debra told me that you're still not bonding with my grandson."

I look at Lily's mother, Sarah, for a moment and then I duck my head back down. "When I look at him, this tiny thing, I just get so angry. I don't want to be angry at him."

"Don't you?" she says.

"No," I screech out. "I know deep down it's not his fault, of course I know that. But, it doesn't change the fact that he's here, this stranger, and she's. . ."

"Dead." She rubs her red eyes and walks into the lounge, taking a seat across from me. "There's no explanation for it, there's no justification. It just is. If I can put my grief aside to hold that baby and care for that baby, then you sure as hell can."

"Lily used to say that I was a fluke parent. She'd do all the hard things, and I'd just. . . put the twins into little cars and drive them around the house. I never really took it seriously, I loved them but, I didn't know how to discipline them the way that she did. I don't know how to control them."

"They're good kids, they don't need to be controlled."

"Jessie lashed out at me the other day," I say, sniffling. "I was trying to talk to her about Lily leaving, and she hit me around the face and ran out of the room. And Jade, well, she knows what's happening, she hasn't spoken a word until today. They're three years old, they shouldn't have to be dealing with this."

She sighs. "It doesn't matter if they're three, thirteen or thirty, it still hurts. No matter what level of understanding they have, their mother is gone, and you are still here. That baby up there, never got the chance to know her. He never got the chance to meet her. She never got the chance to meet him. What happened to his mother was down to careless medical care from the staff at that damn hospital and you know it. They left her out in the corridor for hours, writhing in pain. If they had checked her over properly then she could have received the right medication, she would still be here. It's them that you should be directing your anger towards."

"I know," I say, I clench my teeth together. "I've contacted my lawyer and an investigation is being launched. But, how long do you think it's going to take until we win? Will it bring her back? No."

"I don't give a flying fuck how long it takes," she says, twitching in her chair. "Even if it takes thirty years, my daughter's life was worth that. She should be the one watching my coffin go into the ground, not the other way around. You have a large amount of money Jason, surely you can skip through loopholes."

"I'm not even thinking about the money right now, or the business," I rub my temple. "I can't think about anything."

"Then pull yourself together for those children," she says with a snarl. "Have you even gave a thought to what his name is going to be?"

"No. Look, I know that you've just buried your daughter today, and I know that you mean well, but we've just had her funeral. I'd appreciate it if you left me to drown my sorrows in peace."

I reach over to the glass of whiskey on the table and I look away from her, bringing it to my lips.

"Fine," she says. "But if she could see this, you know exactly what she'd say to you."

I continue staring into my fist, hovering the glass above my lips, refusing to look at her as she gets up and switches the light back off. I hear her climb the steps to go upstairs, I don't even know why she's sleeping here, but I think my mother has something to do with it. They don't trust me alone with the baby, and honestly, that's probably for the best.

I down the last bit of whiskey, feeling my throat ache from invisible fire. I begin to close my eyes, the numbness moves over my body swiftly, sending me into a dream where I can see her again.

And just like Sarah said, she's got some sour words for me.