Hope Begins to Fade

Baby Don't Cry

We drove home in near silence. We'd watched the ocean for hours until the luminescence in the water eventually began to fade. At one stage we'd removed our shoes and strolled along the water's edge braving chilled toes. The glowing footsteps we'd left behind were eerie.

We were almost home when I turned to Matt as we drove. "Thank you for showing me that," I said.

"Thank you for coming with me." He smiled without looking at me as he concentrated on driving. "It's Steph we should really be thanking, she gave me the heads up."

"Maybe we should but you were the one who drove down here so I'm thanking you." I wanted to reach across and touch him in some way but I kept my hands firmly fixed in my lap.

He risked a quick glance at me and there was a laugh in his voice as he said, "So then the real hero is my Mom for agreeing to look after the boys for the night."

"She is," I agreed, "You'd better do something nice for her on Mother's Day."

"It's going to be a busy weekend with the show, Syn's kid's party, Mother's Day. I don't know how we're going to fit it all in," Matt frowned. "Lucky Michelle is having her parents, Brian's parents, my parents, Steph's parents, Brian and Steph and, of course, us at her place on Sunday afternoon."

It took me a couple of moments to connect all the dots and remember that they were all family in one way or another. That's how long it took for me to feel uncomfortable - like I'd be intruding – a moment or two.

"I can stay behind with the boys and help Michelle prepare," I offered even though the idea made me feel uncomfortable.

"No!" Matt exclaimed turning to look at me for a fraction too long before he returned his eyes to the road. "No," he continued in a calmer voice, "I'm not comfortable leaving the boys behind yet. Definitely not when I'm coming home to a party."

"Okay." I could see his point. The car returned to silence but it wasn't the comfortable, companionable silence that we'd enjoyed at other times through the evening. There was tension brewing in the darkness. Things we both wanted to say or ask but for one reason or another we were holding back. Eventually as we were pulling into the driveway I couldn't hold back any longer. Matt had just killed the engine and was opening his door when I asked, "You don't need me at the party though right? I don't have to go?"

He froze, one foot out of the car, and looked at me in confusion. "Well, it's not compulsory so no, you don't have to go, but I want you there. It's Mother's Day. A family day. My kids don't have their mom anymore but they have their grandmothers and they have their princess. I don't even know if you're Ariel or Buttercup at the moment, but you've helped them to be without their mom so they should be celebrating you as well." His sincerity made my heart break.

I flung my door open and hopped quickly out of the car. My back was to Matt as I said, "But I'm not a mum Matt." I hated the way my voice broke over the words. I hunched my shoulders and hurried toward the front door. Behind me Matt made a sound of frustration. He followed me into the house and caught at my arm when I tried to turn away into my room, instead he led me into the family room and had me on the sofa a glass of whisky in my hand before he turned infinitely kind eyes on me and asked, "How old was your baby Sunshine?"

It felt like he'd cut my chest open. I looked down at the ice cube circling my glass and forced out an answer. "My baby didn't even get an age Matt. My baby didn't even get to be registered as ever having existed. She was classified as a miscarriage. I never even got to hold her."

The look of compassion on his face burned so bright I couldn't bear to look at him. I took too large a swig of whisky and choked as the alcohol burned.