Convoluted (Book 1)

Chapter 7-Christopher

          By the time the last customer left the shop I was exhausted. As I walked to my car my reflection startled me. My eyes were red and the bags underneath them could be seen from miles away. I felt alone. The only person I could talk to about all of this was Fred and he was at work by now. There was one place I could go.

         I pulled up to the cemetery. There were a few people putting down fresh flowers and visiting their lost loved ones. I glanced up at the sky and saw that the sun was starting to set. After walking for a minute or two I came across their tombstone. I sat down in the grass. From the smell I could tell it had just been cut.

"Hey mom and dad, it's me," I said.

Suddenly I had a lump in my throat that wouldn't go away. Tears began to flow down my cheeks.

"Mom, you wouldn't be proud of me right now, and dad you would probably be blaming yourself."

      I thought back to the night of the accident. It was the week of Christmas and I came home from college. Being the only child, my parents treasured me more than anything. They bragged on me to their friends for going to college to get my degree in business. They supported me when I told them what my dream was. It saddened me that they wouldn't be here to see it come to life.

       I could sense the tension between them from the moment I stepped through the door. There was no hugging or kissing. No affection what so ever. My mom spent hours cooking my favorite foods and my dad didn't take a bite of anything. Instead of asking question, I told my parents that I was going out with a few friends to the club. My mother pleaded her case for me to stay and spend some time with them, but I didn't. At that time my friend's were more important to me. I came home around three in the morning and all the lights were still on. My gut told me something was wrong. My mom was usually asleep by eleven.

She was sitting in the kitchen staring into space. I pulled up a chair and sat directly in front of her. She was looking right through me. I still remember the conversation like it was yesterday.

"What's wrong mom?"

Deep inside I was afraid to know the answer. She took awhile to respond. Those were the longest two minutes of my life.

"The state troopers came by a few hours ago," her voice began to crack, "your dad is dead."

My body went numb. She explained what happened and at the time I couldn't bare to hear it. I hated myself. How could I be so selfish? Why didn't I ask about the tension I felt between them? I learned that my dad had been drinking a lot lately and that they argued about it every other night. And tonight was no different. She said when he drank he was verbally abusive and it had began to interfere with his job. He would oversleep and when he got fired his drinking habits worsened. She couldn't figure out what triggered his alcoholism, if she did she took it to the grave.

That night he went to a bar, got drunk, and thought he could drive home. My mom stayed up waiting for him and when she got that knock on the door she knew it was bad news. I comforted her as much as I knew how. The funeral took place over winter break and its something that is etched into my memory. All my family flew down to attend. My uncles and I carried his casket down the aisle that seemed like it would never end. I spoke about the guy that I remembered. The guy who use to take me to basketball games and to the library to pick up books even though I would get mad at him for that. He taught me that an education always came first. He was the one who introduced me to Earl. He's the reason I love automobiles.

My mom kept her composure for most of the funeral, even at the repast. The day I left to finish up my last semester I heard her sobbing in the room. The door was left partially opened. I crept up to the room and peeked inside. She was on her knees praying. The tears were pouring from her eyes like a faucet. I believe this was her first time crying. She was trying to keep it together for me and I was trying to do the same for her. Seeing her like that broke my heart. 

As I opened the door the screeching sound didn't disrupt her. I knelt down next to her. She took my hand and we cried and prayed together. After our release session, I told my mom I could transfer back home and finish school here but she didn't entertain that idea for a second. She told me she'd be fine and to make sure I called her every day. My graduation was less than six months away, and she was counting down the days. If I would have known that I'd lose her to a heart attack the day before I was to walk across the stage I would of never left her side. It was the worst feeling in the world, losing the two people who brought you into this world in such a short period of time. I blamed myself for it all and even contemplated suicide. Fred and Vanessa were my rock. They got me through it. I repaid her by cheating on her. It was time to make it right.

After conversing with my parents I wanted to go home and take a long hot bath. As I let the tub fill up I walked around the house, stopping at the room that had the door closed. Knowing it would be painful, I still opened it. I felt like I needed to address all of the issues in my life. I flipped on the light switch and immediately felt the pain in my chest. The entire room was blue. Blue carpet. Blue wallpaper. Blue dressers. Hell, we even painted the ceiling blue. The letters that spelled out his nickname still hung on the wall with dust. CJ. Christopher Junior was his name. I closed the door and thought of the last image I had of him as I made my way back to the bathroom.

Though they told me he wasn't alive, I waited for his eyes to open. I wanted to know who he resembled more. Vanessa and I would always have playful arguments about who had the strongest genes.

I held him. Rocking him in my arms like I had practiced for those nine months. The doctor explained what happened but after it was all said and done, my son was dead. There was no baby to take home. He was born but he lost the battle with trying to take his first breath. They worked on him for a long time, it was clear that there was nothing else to be done. Vanessa took it hard. She was out of bed screaming at them to do something to save him. She offered her help since she's a nurse but they wouldn't allow it. When they stopped trying to bring him back she called them all killers. She said that she could have done a better job. I believe a big part of her died with him that day.

When it was time for her to hold him I made sure he was wrapped up tight in the blue blanket they provided. She had calmed down from before but the crying continued. She took his wrinkled little hand and placed her thumb inside. Rocking him back and forth she hummed a lullaby. I pulled up a chair and sat by her side. We stayed with him for as long as we could. I took pictures and had them framed. They've only collected dust in the garage. 

Our family and friends harassed us with questions and once they found out, all they wanted to do was help. The truth was nothing would heal the pain of losing a child. Even with it being two years ago, we never changed his room. We just closed the door, locking up all of our feelings inside. It got even worse when she miscarried shortly after. Luckily it wasn't too far into the pregnancy but we still took it hard. We figured it'll be too painful to try again. We haven't uttered a word about babies since then.

I shook the haunting thoughts from my head and relaxed for once. I played out all of the scenarios of how I was going to confess to Vanessa that I cheated on her. I wanted things to go back to the way they were when we first got married. It was time for me to come clean, even if there was a chance that I could lose her.