That evening, John rented a scaffold so that he could install the antique chandelier. Kara stood at the ready, on the floor by its side, fighting the constant memory of Marvin’s fallen body, making sure John didn’t lose his balance. The broken glass had been swept away and the mangled brass light fixture had been trashed long ago.
Two days later after a rainstorm had passed, Kara crossed the wet lawn to Diane’s house. It had been several days, but Diane appeared, leaving the covered porch to meet her.
Diane said blandly, “Marvin’s gone. He died three days ago.”
Kara’s hand went to her mouth, her words a whisper, “Oh, I’m sorry, Diane.”
“There won’t be a funeral. Marvin was plain in that he didn’t want a ceremony or memorial. Please respect my privacy.”
“Will Matthew be staying with you?” Kara noticed Diane’s head twitch and wondered if she’d be alright. When Diane didn’t immediately reply, Kara went on, “Please visit me as soon as you feel up to it. I am so sorry for your loss. We will keep you and Matthew in our prayers.”
Diane opened her mouth, but ended up clearing her throat instead of replying. She opened the screen door and closed it behind her, locking it.
Kara returned home, breathing the humid air, feeling light-headed. She closed the front door behind her, purposely not looking up at the foyer light.
“John.” She waited for him to look up from his computer. “Marvin died.”
“He did?”
She nodded, coming into the office. She pushed on him so that he made room for her to sit on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and she laid her head against his chest, starting to cry. She felt so horribly guilty. Why had she let Marvin install that light? Had she been responsible for his death?
Chapter Twenty-three
“John! Lilah!” Kara felt the scream tear through her throat, but it came out instead as a hoarse whisper. “Get Lilah!”
The sun was beating down overhead, the heat searing Kara’s skull. It was as if somebody was holding her down, forcing a hot fire poker to her crown. She moved her arms, swinging them back and forth. Her legs wouldn’t budge.
“Lilah!” She choked on the name. The little dark head disappeared from sight. It sank below, into the oblong pool; the sloshing water slowed.
She’s not struggling anymore!
If she wasn’t struggling, then that meant she wasn’t conscious. And if she wasn’t conscious…
“J-j-j-j!” Kara stuttered.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the pool. They felt glued on it, burning from staring. Why wasn’t John coming? Didn’t he know Lilah was drowning? Why hadn’t he been watching her?
John! She had lost her voice. John, it’s the baby!
“Help!” Kara cried aloud in the darkness of her bedroom, rocking as she sobbed. She was sitting in bed, cross-legged and bent over, burying her face in the bedspread.
John stirred from his sleep and touched her back. “Kara? What’s wrong?”
She opened her eyes and straightened, pulling the blanket over her legs. Awareness came over her: she was in her bedroom, on her bed. “Nightmare,” she whispered.
John leaned back against the headboard, propping himself up. “Do you want to talk about it?” Talk about rainbows and candy shops like he had done when Lilah had had nightmares.
Kara shook her head and shoulders no and lay back, pulling the blanket taut over her. The bedroom window was open, sending in a rush of cool air. Outside, the breeze rubbed against leaves, causing a cacophony of shhhhhhs.
She twisted to her side, folding the pillow in half and resting it under her head. She lay there looking at the blackness beyond the window. Listening to the sound the dancing leaves made, she wiped away her tears and felt how strong her longing had grown. With Marvin’s passing, seeing again the very realness of death and how it was so final, her thoughts directed on the passing that had haunted her for so long. There was no uncertainty. She had to return to Cosgrove.
Chapter Twenty-four
“Are you sure about this?” Shannon asked. “I mean, are you sure you want me to come with you?”
It was Saturday morning and even though it was only mid-September, the day was cool and some of the leaves had started to change color.
Kara pulled on a cardigan and replied, “Yeah, I need to do this. Thanks for picking me up at home.” She slid into the passenger side of Shannon’s jeep. “We won’t be long. John has to work later.”
Shannon turned the vehicle around at the top of the driveway. “I don’t mind. I came out for you. We can stay as long as you need to.”
At the cemetery, Kara’s thoughts ran, where Sophie’s buried.
“Does John know where we’re going?”
They pulled onto the road and Kara fought the urge to look at the old barn they passed before heading into town. “I didn’t want him to know. I don’t know how he’d handle it.”
“What if he wanted to go with you? Has he been there…since?”
“He wouldn’t have wanted to come out, I don’t think.”
Shannon glanced at Kara, seeing her uncertainty. “If you’re not sure, I can turn around. You guys can talk about it and see if you’d feel better doing this together.”
“I’m sorry for making you take me, Shannon.” Tears welled in Kara’s eyes. What was she doing?
“No, I’m fine. I had nothing planned besides watching Tom sit around the house.”
“Thanks.” Kara wiped her eyes, grateful the tears hadn’t fallen.
“Stop thanking me. Tom’s no treat when he’s between jobs.” Shannon’s chuckle was hollow.
“His job ended?” It was a personal subject, but nothing more personal than the situation they were driving toward. Selfishly, it was something to get her mind off the journey.
“Yeah.” Shannon twisted the radio dial so that rock music played low in the jeep’s cabin. They had turned onto the highway. “How’s your neighbor doing? Marvin?”
Kara swallowed, looking out the window. “He passed away.”
“What?” Shannon’s hand went to her face for a moment, her fingers brushing against her eyebrow, her nose. “Wow. I’m so sorry.”
Kara nodded and sighed, not noticing the decorative evergreens bordering the highway whip past. “Yeah, it’s terrible.”
Kara felt like St. Michael’s Cemetery had come upon them far too soon. Located on the outskirts of Cosgrove, it was on Route 604, viewable from the highway. She had only been there one time before, but on that day, she had been a sobbing wreck and oblivious. They pulled off the exit ramp and turned immediately right, passing through the gated entrance, open to green grass spotted with stones and flowers. A van and a truck were the only other vehicles in the blacktop lot.
“Are you ready?” Shannon asked, gently.
Kara’s nod was barely perceptible. Shannon squeezed her hand before leading her down the walking path. As the pavement curved around a trio of tall trees, Kara noticed daisies and a lone sunflower, as well as colorful pinwheels tucked into the earth, the breeze making them spin and rattle. Clinking wind chimes drew her eyes to a low-drooping bough where they hung, just steps ahead. The long limb was mostly dead. A dozen leaves were strapped to it, but most of the bark had splintered. A few more strong storms and it would be annihilated. Kara forced herself to look below it, knowing where they had come.
The baby graveyard.
“I came out early this morning after you called,” Shannon said. “so it’d be easier for you. I made sure we’d know where to find her.”
Her.
We’re talking about Sophie now, Kara thought. It was surreal.
I can’t do this.
Shannon continued, “I supposed it’d be difficult for you to remember since you’ve only been here once.”
I’m not ready.
Shannon had slowed her pace and was leading her down a gravel trail no wider than the width of her body. It led past tiny grave markers and headstones.
Tiny like a baby, Kara thought wildly.
Some graves were marked with statues: an angel, a lamb, the Virgin Mary. She passed a stone Celtic cross with etched words, reading, “Our beautiful Briana; early, Heaven called our angel home.”
“Oh, wow,” Shannon murmured beside her. “She was only two.”
Kara’s eyes flashed, as she realized Shannon had noticed the grave marker of baby Briana too.
Shannon gestured toward the rear row of graves set flat into the grass. “I’ll give you time with Sophie.”
Kara swallowed hard, hearing her daughter’s name. Shannon moved briskly away, down the path, leaving her alone. Kara took her time, walking leadenly past each marker. She purposefully read each stone, not comprehending the meaning of the words. She ignored their names, paid no mind to the various psalms and poetic quotations engraved into some of the slabs of rock. They were meaningless characters. She did notice, however, there were no flowers, no memento, no child’s toy to mark the ground where mothers and fathers and grandparents had laid their children to rest. Abandoned children, orphans underground.
She stopped short of the second-to-last headstone. She had stood there six years ago, dressed in a navy blue suit dress her mother had suggested she wear that morning. The weather had been similar to that day: cool and partly cloudy. She had just given birth four short days before and her body had still ached from natural childbirth and an episiotomy.
They had been a small group: Kara, John, her mother, and a reverend the hospital had recommended. Margaret had told her it would be best if Jack wasn’t there. He wouldn’t understand what was going on and he’d be confused about everyone’s raw emotions.
Margaret had warned, “It could be traumatizing and we wouldn’t want that.”
John was a wreck himself and hadn’t been sure what would be the right thing to do. Jack hadn’t even seen Sophie. He had known Mommy had had a baby in her tummy and that he was going to be a big brother, but nothing more concrete than that. When Kara and John had come home without a baby and Mommy’s tummy was smaller than it was a couple days before, it had been like it was all a dream. He asked once about the baby soon after, but they had just told him she had gone to Heaven. He hadn’t asked questions, had accepted that as a logical enough explanation, and had returned to being their only child. For him, nothing had changed, it had all stayed the same.
Kara looked down at the stone.
Sophie Marie Tameson.
Seeing the name carved permanently into gray rock in this public place was devastating. She dropped to her knees, both of her palms opening flat on the grass in front of the marker. She had carried Sophie in her womb for nine months. They had bonded, always together. During the second trimester, Sophie had let Kara know she was there and a force to be acknowledged. Kara had taken pleasure in feeling her daughter’s exuberant kicks; she watched her tumble around, sometimes making her belly look something sinister from a science fiction movie. During the last trimester, Kara spent evenings rocking in her glider, singing and talking quietly to Sophie as the sun dropped from the sky and the room grew dark. Theirs would be a true bond, Kara had thought. Nothing like her relationship with her mother. Sophie and she would always be two peas in a pod; nothing would ever tear them apart.
But something had torn them apart. An unexplainable stopped heart. There had been no warning. The doctors could offer no reasoning. A weak heart nobody had known about that had just stopped beating.
Presently, instead of blue eyes that mirrored Lilah’s (Kara knew they would’ve looked just like Lilah’s), Kara was looking at cold, unmovable gray rock, set in the hard ground. She didn’t fight the tears.
She didn’t notice Shannon, who had heard the first outcry. Shannon made her way back to the woman curling her arms around the grave marker, Kara’s body now shaped in a crude “S,” hiding the stone from the rest of the world.
“Oh, Kara.”
Kara couldn’t stop the tears. Although they painted her face and her nose ran, she didn’t care. Her head throbbed and the air drained from her lungs.
“Let’s get you out of here.” Shannon wrapped her arms around Kara and tugged, pulling her to her feet.
Kara was being taken away from her daughter’s remains, but she wasn’t ready to leave. She tried to push Shannon away, but her strength was gone. She ached to see her daughter’s name in print again, but through her tear-filled eyes all she saw was misshapen gray. Shannon led her back to the parking lot. Kara struggled at first, but soon fell limp, allowing herself be directed to the jeep.
Shannon helped her inside before sliding into the driver’s seat. “Are you okay?”
Kara strained her neck, earnestly trying to find Sophie’s spot from there, but it was over a slight rise and yards away. “I’ll be fine,” she replied, wiping her wet cheeks.
“I think you should lie down when you get home. Will you be alright when I drop you off?”
“I’ll be fine. I just need to go home and see the kids.”
“You need to go home and take a bath. I’ll take care of them. You need to relax.” When Kara started to protest, Shannon interrupted. “Listen to me. You just put yourself through heartbreak again. You need time to decompress. I’m starting to wonder if maybe this was a bad idea. I didn’t mean to make you so upset.”
“You brought me here because I wanted you to. I needed to come. I was tired of pretending it never happened.” Kara choked back fresh tears. She sat up and pulled the seatbelt around her. “Let’s go.”
When they returned to the house, John grabbed his keys and laptop bag. “Hey! I gotta run.” He didn’t pay attention to the women’s somber faces. Shannon’s turned to a scowl when he sidestepped them and pulled open the interior garage door open. Kara’s face had dried by then. He called over his shoulder, “I’ll call you later,” before closing the door behind him.
Shannon asked her, “Are you going to tell him where we went?”
Kara walked into the kitchen and called hello to Jack and Lilah. They sat in front of the TV in the great room. Kara turned back to Shannon. “I will. Right now’s not the time, obviously.” She didn’t offer anything else. Honestly, she didn’t know if she’d ever tell John she had visited the cemetery. Now wasn’t the right time, not when his mind was absorbed with work. He didn’t know about any of it, aside from the couple times she had said Sophie’s name aloud by mistake in front of him. He had no idea she had tucked away the memory box and that she now avoided that dresser drawer because she was afraid she’d find a wrinkled receiving blanket that didn’t smell the same.
“When’s he coming back?” Shannon sat down at the kitchen table and started rifling through her handbag.
“I don’t know. Hopefully, in a few hours.” Kara opened the refrigerator. “Do you want a drink? I have water, pop, wine…”
“I’ll take some wine.”
“After my breakdown, I could use some too.” Kara’s laugh was hollow. “But it’s probably wise if I stuck with water.”
Shannon pulled a small amber bottle from her handbag. “Actually, I have something you may not want to take with wine anyway.”
Kara poured her a glass and called over to the kids, “How’s it going, guys?”
“Daddy got me fruit snacks.” Lilah smiled, waving a snack bag.
“Awesome.” Kara caught sight of the statue under Lilah’s arm. Abhorrence crept over her as the frog’s buggy eyes stared back at her with understanding. Kara murmured, “Lilah, be careful with the statue, okay? I don’t want you to get scratched.”
Lilah laid it down beside her, shoving a gummy faux cherry into her mouth.
Kara looked at Jack, his full attention on the cartoon flashing on the screen, the statue inches from his leg. She didn’t know what it was that alerted her to be watchful of where Lilah had laid it…Sharp edges, that’s what bothered her. It really wasn’t appropriate Lilah played with it…with any statue…not just that one.
Kara pulled her eyes away sat down
across from Shannon, setting a wineglass in front of her, forgetting her own glass of water.
“Okay, I have something for you,” Shannon said. “Now don’t think I’m a drug dealer or anything.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
Shannon opened her hand, revealing a prescription bottle. “It’s an anti-anxiety med. Well, more of a glorified sleeping pill. I don’t think it’s much different than any cold medicine you could buy off the shelf. Just in case you need something to take the edge off.”
Soon after Sophie had died, Kara’s family doctor had prescribed her something for anxiety, which she had needed. She didn’t know how she would’ve ever made it through without it. She’d slept a lot, mostly dreamless slumbers that lasted several hours, almost entire days. It had helped heal her. Well, perhaps, looking back on it now, it had been more of a bandage than a cure.
“No thanks,” Kara replied. “I’m fine. I wouldn’t want to take any of your medications anyway.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I don’t really need it. I just keep refilling my prescription, out of habit, I guess. Doctors don’t like it when you stop refilling them,” Shannon chuckled.
“I’m feeling alright now. I think I just needed a good cry. Best medicine there is, au naturel.”
Shannon sipped her wine. “That’s probably true.” She swirled the contents of her glass. “This probably has some medicinal value in it too.”
“All in moderation.”
Shannon popped the lid off the amber bottle and shook out a pale yellow capsule. “I’m going to leave you one at any rate. Just in case. You can look it up online and read all the warnings and side effects if you want.” She pushed the pill across the table before closing the bottle and dropping it into her handbag.
“I really am fine.”
“I know you are. Don’t use it if you don’t need it. I take one on the rare occasion when I feel like the walls are closing in. You still look shaky to me. Just put it somewhere for the off-chance you can’t sleep or feel overwhelmed. It’s just a safety net. I have my days too.”
“If you ever want to talk, I’m here. You’ve definitely seen me at my worst.” Kara regretted their friendship seemed one-sided.
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