by A. M. Kusi
“A truck ran a red and hit them at a stoplight… Too busy texting,” his mother explained through broken sobs. The devastation in her voice pierced Isa’s skin like needles.
“Peter?” he asked.
His mother shook her head.
“The kids?” he choked, his face showing true fear.
“We were watching them. They are home with your father. I haven’t told him yet,” she confessed.
An intruder on a very private moment, Isa was unsure of what to do with herself. Should she leave? Out of place and wishing she knew how to help, she stayed silent in the background, giving them as much space as she could in the small room.
“How can he watch the kids with his hip?” Ethan asked.
“It was an emergency. He had no choice but to stay home with them alone so I could come. I need to get back and tell him. Ethan, you know what this means?” she asked.
He took a deep breath before replying, “It means I’m a father now.”
Chapter 15
Ethan’s breath had been stolen, held captive by the devastation in his mother’s eyes, until it was replaced with a burning ache of loss. He was gutted by the news. The slice of agony ripped through his body, piercing his heart as it splintered and shattered.
His sister was gone. He was now responsible for two small human beings and he had no idea how to give them the care they needed. Ethan couldn’t ask his mother for help; she was grieving the loss of her child, and his father required constant support due to his hip surgery. Ethan would have to make do alone, because he had no other option. The one other person he would have asked for help was now lying on a cold table somewhere in the vicinity. She had no breath left to give advice. How was he going to manage?
Isa gasped, reminding Ethan she was there, as he assured his mother that he knew his duty. He took the full weight of the responsibility for his niece and nephew on his shoulders. They were his now.
His mother’s tears soaked his shirt as her body shook with sobs against him. He couldn’t feel anything but blinding shock and disbelief that he had lost his sister and brother-in-law. With no warning, they were gone. The realization nearly knocked him off his feet as the heaviness of their new reality settled on his shoulders.
The soggy, tortured cries from the woman he held reminded him he didn’t have time to fall apart. His mother needed him to be strong. She would depend on him now more than she ever had before.
Isa handed his mother a tissue.
“I’ll go home and tell your father. I can keep the kids with me until tomorrow. You take some time to prepare,” she directed, wiping the tears from her brown cheeks. The woman who’d descended from warriors of the motherland rose, whispering her call for strength from her ancestors as she prepared to deliver the painful news to her husband and her grandchildren.
“Yes, Mama.” He pulled her into his arms for one more hug and kissed her forehead. “Let me drive you,” he offered. She nodded. Ethan wrapped his arm around her shoulders protectively, as if he could shield her and bear some of her grief with the gesture.
Ethan’s eyes stung with unshed tears. He could fall apart later when his mother didn’t need him. He met Isa’s unsure glance and he nodded towards the door, afraid his words would break the dam.
They walked out of the hospital. Dark clouds hovered above them. The heavens were mourning his family’s loss too.
Ethan didn’t know what to say when Isa got into the driver’s seat. He opened the door for his mother in the back and sat next to her. He typed the address on the phone’s GPS for Isa to follow to his parents’ house. Then he wrapped his hand around his mother’s, unsure if he was trying to give or receive comfort in a moment when there was none to be found.
Flashes of the last conversations he’d had with his sister and brother-in-law played in his mind like a projector. Had he told them how much he loved and appreciated them? Had he been too distracted by meaningless things to pay attention to them? He would never see Abby’s smile or hear Peter’s laugh again. Bricks stacked onto his chest as he struggled to breathe. His heartbeat crashed inside his rib cage.
He sat in stunned silence until they got to their destination.
“Do you need me to go in with you?” he asked.
“No. You take this time for yourself because I am going to need you from tomorrow on. I have a funeral to plan. Your life is about to change, my son.” She glanced at Isa in the driver’s seat. “There won’t just be you to think about anymore.”
He knew her meaning. Isa couldn’t come first; the children would. It wasn’t like Isa would want to be with him now that he had two children to take care of anyway. She had been skittish about being in a relationship with him, and kids were a whole other level of commitment.
He nodded, and his mother squeezed his hand before she left. Ethan climbed into the passenger’s seat and buckled up. What good would it do? Should I even bother?
“Let me take you home. I don’t think you should drive,” Isa said.
Her eyes flashed with something he hadn’t seen before. Was it pity? Either way, she was right. He was in no condition to get behind a wheel.
“Take a left on that street,” he said, giving her directions to his single-family home. Sprinkles of rain started to fall, growing in intensity as the pair got closer to his house. The weather was doing what his body could not—releasing.
She cut the engine and they sat in the car for a few silent minutes. Isa reached her hand out and covered his.
“I have no idea what I am going to do,” he admitted.
“Do you want me to stay with you?” she asked.
He turned to her, really seeing her for the first time since he’d gotten the news. She was beautiful, but her expression was pained. All of this had to be awkward for her.
“No, I’ll be okay. I need to be alone.”
She almost looked disappointed, but nodded and said, “I understand. I’ll call an Uber.” She picked up her phone and tapped on it for a minute.
He rubbed a hand over his face. His skin felt dull, every part of him numb. He was a shell of the man he’d woken up as this morning, a shadow of what he used to be.
“How old are the kids again?” she asked carefully.
“Joy is six, and Max is eight months.” He had no idea what he was going to do with them Monday when he went to work. His mother couldn’t help and he had used all his leave time.
“Do you need someone to help with the baby while you go to work?” she asked, having seemingly read his mind.
“Yeah…actually. And Abby homeschools Joy. I mean, she used to,” he said, still in shock that he had to refer to his sister in past tense.
“I can help you. I mean, I can come and watch the kids while you are at work until you find someone who’s better suited. At least until my trip in two months,” she offered.
Ethan studied her face, making sure she meant it. She offered him a tentative smile. His body flooded with relief and he let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He didn’t want to ask her for anything, but the truth was, he was desperate. “I would really appreciate that. I don’t know what I can pay you—”
She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Let me help. You know I don’t need the money. I want to do this. Please let me and don’t make this awkward with talk of payment.”
He didn’t feel right about the agreement, but he was too tired to argue any further. He was exhausted in every sense of the word. Part of him wanted to go to sleep and never wake up in a world where his sister didn’t exist anymore.
A black car pulled in front of them and beeped.
“My Uber is here. I’ll see you Monday. What time?” she asked.
“Um . . . seven?”
She leaned in close and touched his cheek to capture his attention. Her hand burned with warmth, which radiated through his now numb body. “If you need
anything before then, Ethan, please tell me,” she said, her eyes searching his.
He couldn’t promise her he would, because it would be a lie. He shouldn’t ask anything of her. He was already taking advantage of her kindness. He would find a replacement he could afford so she could be off the hook and leave him to his duty alone.
Ethan nodded, and she popped the trunk before she left the car. She ran out in the pouring rain before getting her bags. She jogged to the Uber that would take her home, like he’d said he would.
He got out of his car and walked towards his empty house as fat droplets of cold rain started pouring down harder. The rain drenched him in seconds. His clothes clung to him like a second icy skin as the wind blew. But he didn’t care. The emptiness inside threatened to swallow him up. His steps grew heavier, each movement becoming more sluggish and unsteady. He tripped. Falling to his knees, he cried out in agony.
Finally, his tears came. The salty release mixed with the freezing rainwater over his face, soaking through his skin, saturating his soul. His sister was gone. His brother-in-law had been killed. And for what? A fucking text? Were they in a rush? Two lives were snuffed out in a meaningless tangle of crushed metal at an intersection. Two children would grow up without both their parents, raised by an uncle. A single man who had no fucking clue what he was doing. One thing was sure: he would put those kids first and do everything he could to help his family through this.
He wasn’t sure how long he kneeled in the wet grass, his body soaked and shaking. He couldn’t even feel the cold, just hot anger at the injustice of it all.
Someone was pulling his arm, helping him stand, but he didn’t look to see who it was. He was led blindly into his house. As the door shut behind him, he lost the ability to hear anything but his own heartbeat. Why did his heart get to beat while his sister’s could not? She should be here. If either of them had to give their life, it should have been him. She had more to live for.
He stumbled forward, pulled by a warm hand until he got upstairs and entered his bathroom. A light flickered on, but his mind was still in the darkness. He replayed the last time he’d seen his sister. Could he have said something to change the course of her life? Could he have talked her out of going out when he’d spoken to her weeks ago? Did he tell her how much she had taught him? How much she meant to him?
The scalding spray of water jarred his senses. He was naked in his shower with Isa’s warm body holding him, supporting him. She looked worried, fear present in her eyes. She still had her clothes on, but was drenched from the water too.
She met his eyes, chewing her bottom lip nervously. Then she hugged his body close. He wasn’t sure if he was holding her, or she him. All he knew was that her presence made him feel something in this chaos of devastation. He wasn’t sure why she’d come back, and he couldn’t form the words to ask. All that mattered was that right then, she was there.
***
Isa held his body tight until the hot shower turned warm. She had made it home, but the moment she’d walked in the door, something pulled at her to come back. A feeling of urgency that she should check on him had overwhelmed her. Isa was glad she’d listened. When she had seen him in the rain, soaked, his lips nearly blue, she was terrified that he would freeze to death. His body was frozen and his eyes had seemed vacant as he’d trembled and shook from shock or the cold—probably both.
She turned the water off and grabbed a towel for him first. He at least seemed to be present with her now, even though he wasn’t speaking. He walked out of the bathroom and stumbled towards one of the rooms. She stripped naked before hanging her clothes to dry and wrapping a towel around herself too. Then she followed and found him changed into a T-shirt and boxers. He lay on the bed. A laundry basket of folded clothes sat by his dresser. She grabbed one of his T-shirts for herself.
After she covered him with the comforter, she felt his head for a temperature. He grabbed her wrist, meeting her eyes. His eyes were an open book of the internal torment raging a war inside him.
“Stay,” he nearly whispered.
Isa nodded and climbed into the bed next to him. He opened his arm for her and she laid her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around him. He began snoring lightly. Afraid to stir him from the only peace he would know for a while, she didn’t move.
Ethan needed her, and she would be there for him. Could she make up for the fact that she hadn’t been strong enough for her family when they’d needed someone to hold them together? She had the chance to help Ethan, to be whatever he needed while his family worked through their grief; and she would do that for as long as he would let her.
Chapter 16
Isa woke to the light streaming in between the dark curtains. Where was she?
It all came rushing back to her. Ethan was still asleep next to her. She glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand: it was nearly noon. She turned to her side and his arms followed, scooping her closer to him. Her body ignited instantly with his touch, rippling, stirring, desire growing in her belly.
He nuzzled into her neck, breathing her in before his body tensed.
He’s remembering.
She turned to him.
His bloodshot eyes opened, his expression grim. “Why did you come back?” he asked, his voice like gravel.
“Because I knew you needed me.”
His gaze shifted to lust as his hand wrapped around her naked thigh. He leaned forward, about to kiss her.
“Ethan, wait.”
He stopped.
“Not like this,” she said.
His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?’”
“You can’t make it go away with sex, with alcohol, or anything. You should face the feelings as they come. Just let yourself fall apart for a little while. Let yourself be sad.”
He jerked away and stood. “What the fuck do you know about being sad? About responsibility? You have no cares in the world. Is that what your expensive therapist told you?”
Isa sat. It was his grief talking, but his words still stung. “I know that if you hold it in, you will eventually erupt and break apart when you least expect it, or want to. I know if you try to dull the pain with anything else, you will be the one paying the price later. Along with all those you love.” She stood before she stepped closer and placed a hand over his heart. “I know the desolation in here is overwhelming, like nothing you’ve ever felt before. I know it feels impossible to feel that much pain and still be alive. I know you are wishing it was you instead.”
His gaze wavered, but he stayed silent.
“I want to be with you, but not like that. Not until it’s what you really want. Not because you’re trying to feel something other than pain.”
“I guess it will never happen then.”
His heavy footsteps signaled the end of the conversation as he disappeared down the stairs, leaving her alone. Had she done the right thing by turning him away? Maybe he needed her body like a balm. But she would feel used afterwards. She had done that so many times herself, and it never worked. She didn’t want to taint what they had.
She went to the bathroom and retrieved her nearly dry clothes. After relieving herself and using some of his toothpaste, she pulled on the damp jeans. Balling up the rest of her clothes. She would borrow his T-shirt.
Isa walked downstairs, seeing Ethan sitting at the small table in his decent-sized but near-empty kitchen. He had a simple circular table and a few items on his counters. There was not much décor, just the necessities. The house was sparsely furnished with navy blue as the overall theme. His walls were bare, but his fridge had pictures of scribbled artwork—from his niece? Poor girl.
She started a pot of coffee before finding some eggs in his refrigerator that were relatively fresh. She located a pan and scrambled three of them. When they were done, she put them on one of the mismatched plates she found in the cupboards and p
oured a cup of coffee into a mug.
She set the items in front of him on the table. “I know you don’t feel hungry, but try to eat something.”
He jumped out of his seat and pinned her against the counter. The tension was thick, nearly choking her, as she stared into the face of this man who towered over her.
“Why?” he snapped, his voice full of anger and hurt. She knew he wasn’t talking about the food, or her.
“Some people like to believe it’s all part of a greater plan. But life is full of shit that doesn’t make sense. Bad things happen to good people, and good things happen to bad people.” She sighed. How was this supposed to encourage him? “There is no use trying to figure it out. It happened, and now you must accept that. Grieve their loss and I promise, if you do, someday, things will get better. You will feel happy again without feeling guilty.”
“How do you know?” he asked, not backing off an inch. His face dropped lower.
“Because I was able to.”
He stumbled back, as if her confession had sent him reeling. “Who?”
“My younger brother, Jacob.” She hadn’t said his name aloud for years, and all the memories of taking care of him as a baby and toddler came rushing over her.
Ethan swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
“He was eight years younger than me. I was like a second mother to him.” It felt good to share about the sibling she’d loved and lost. No one in her family ever spoke about him. They pretended like Jacob never existed.
“How did he . . .?” His question trailed off.
“He fell into the pool while I was at school. My mother was the only one home.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. Locking his gaze with hers, he continued, “For everything.”
“I get it. I can take your anger, but those kids can’t.”
His face scrunched. “What? Why would I be angry at them?”
“Grief can make someone do things they’d never thought they would,” she explained, the jagged edges of her own family’s reactions still slicing ribbons in her chest. “I have to go, but I’ll be here tomorrow morning. I can come back later if you need me.”