That’s not exactly true. My parents will have to return to the movie set soon. Oh, I know them. I know they are both trying to extricate themselves from the production. But there is no way that can happen. They can’t lose the director and the leading lady. They can’t reshoot a movie that’s halfway through filming, and every day the movie is on hold costs hundreds of thousands of dollars. They will have to return after the funeral, and I’ll just have to learn to cope by myself.
It’s a scary proposition. One I’m not sure I can manage, but my son needs me to be strong, and I’m determined to at least try. “Can you get Easton now? I’m okay.” As long as I try to keep thoughts of Reeve and Lainey from my mind for the few minutes it takes to break my little son’s heart.
It feels like I’ve lied to him and betrayed him. E was there every day with Reeve, singing and talking to my belly, and I am letting him down in the worst way imaginable. He was so excited to meet his sister, and he’s going to be so upset. My lower lip wobbles, and tears threaten, but I manage to hold it together.
“Mommy.” Easton races across my bedroom, flinging himself into my arms.
“Careful, sweetheart,” my mom says. “Remember we told you Mommy wasn’t feeling well? Well, she has some pains in her tummy, and we need to be gentle with her.”
“What about my little sister?” Easton asks, looking worried. “Does she have pains too?”
Gulping over the messy ball of emotion in my throat, I breathe deeply as I pat the space beside me on the bed. “Come sit here. I need a cuddle.”
Easton snuggles into my side, and I wrap my arms around him, closing my eyes as I brush my nose against his hair. The sweet strawberry smell from his shampoo provides comfort as does the feel of him in my arms. I hold him a little tighter, careful not to crush him. I wish I could put him on my lap, but I already ripped my stitches out once, and I’ve been warned not to do any lifting or holding for another few weeks. “Honey, I need to tell you some sad news,” I start, working hard to keep the tremble from my voice. “You remember when we talked about Holy God and the angels and heaven?”
I’m not overly religious. Neither was Reeve.
His handsome face swims in front of my eyes, and I long to return to three weeks ago and do everything differently. If I had, we wouldn’t be here now. Reeve wouldn’t have been angry at me that night. He wouldn’t have been drinking so much because he thought I was having an affair behind his back with his long-lost twin. We would have made it home in one piece, and I wouldn’t be sitting here now about to crush my son’s heart into itty-bitty pieces. Pain stabs me through the heart, and I briefly squeeze my eyes shut.
“Yes,” Easton says, sounding confused and scared.
That snaps me out of my head. I open my eyes and place a kiss on his cheek. “Daddy and I were in a car accident. I was in the hospital getting better, but Daddy and Lainey have gone to heaven to be with God and the angels.”
Inwardly, I’m screaming as the words leave my mouth. Right now, I hate God as much as I hate Dillon O’Donoghue.
Easton blinks, staring at me in confusion. “Why would Daddy go to heaven instead of coming home? Why didn’t he get better in the hospital like you?”
Pain crawls up my throat, and I can barely force the words out this time. “If Daddy could’ve made the decision, he would have come home with me.” I pause, emitting a few sobs. Mom makes a move, but I shake my head, needing to do this myself, even if I am making a mess of it.
“I don’t understand,” E says as tears roll down his cheeks.
I hold him closer, dotting kisses on the top of his head. “Neither do I, baby. But sometimes things happen, and we don’t ever know why. This is one of those times. God needed Daddy and Lainey, and at least they are together. I bet they’re up in heaven cuddling right now, just like we are.”
“I don’t want my daddy to go to heaven!” Easton bursts out crying. “I want him to come home and play with me on the slide!” he wails, burying his little face in my chest. I can scarcely see through my blurry vision, but I see enough to know Mom is crying too.
Will this ever get any better?
Will this pain ever go away?
“I know, honey. I wish for that too, but it’s not going to happen.” I hate to do this to him, but I can’t leave him with false hope either. “Daddy is your guardian angel now. He’s going to be watching over both of us from heaven.”
“I want him watching over me from here,” Easton sobs into my chest, and I don’t know what else to say to make him understand. As I hold my heartbroken boy in my arms, I vow to do everything to help him get through this, even if it means papering over the cracks in my own heart to do it.
13
VIVIEN
“You need to eat,” Audrey says, zipping up my black dress from behind. “You look so thin.”
“I know,” I deadpan. I know a body needs food to sustain it. That I’ll perish if I don’t fuel my body, but I can’t eat. Even the thought of food makes me ill. You can’t tell I was ever pregnant now, and that only adds to my sadness. I’m barely surviving despite my silent promises to myself to do better for Easton’s sake.
My son is struggling. He doesn’t understand why his daddy hasn’t come home. He’s convinced himself Reeve is away on a movie set, and the only way I know to get through to him is to bring him to the funeral with me today.
Alex and Audrey have been a lifeline for me in the same way my parents have. They too have put their lives on hold to be here for us. I’ve wanted to keep Easton at home, away from prying eyes, and our best friends have been helping to keep him occupied while Mom tries to glue me back together. Dad is dealing with practical matters, like arranging the funeral, sorting out legal shit, and dealing with the police.
I told Officer Lawson I didn’t want to press charges against the man driving the other car. It was a horrible night. Visibility was terrible, and it was an accident. Faulty airbags didn’t help, and toxicology reports taken during Reeve’s postmortem confirmed he was over the legal limit. He should never have been driving. I should have forced him into the passenger seat and insisted I drive. I should have refused to get in the car until he agreed.
Round and round my mind churns, going over all the what-ifs.
“Are you sure you want Easton to attend the funeral?” Audrey asks as she runs some serum through my wavy hair. I’ve been like a zombie as my bestie got me in the shower, dried and styled my hair, and applied makeup to my pale face. She even helped me to bind my breasts, which are engorged and rock hard thanks to my milk coming in. Every time I touch them and they hurt, I’m reminded of my loss all over again.
“I asked him, and he said he wants to go.”
She looks at me like I’ve truly lost my mind, and I get it. I know I said some mad shit in the aftermath of the accident when I woke in the hospital. Mistaking him for my husband being the worst of it. I turn around to face my friend. “I know he is young. Probably too young to make that decision, but I don’t want him to turn around to me in the future and blame me for not letting him attend his father’s and his little sister’s funeral.” I’m expecting tears to form, like usual, but my eyes are suspiciously dry.