I'm With You

by Taylor Dean

  Chloe knew she should stop, but she didn’t. All of her pent up emotions came pouring out in a terrible rant as she mimicked the words she most hated to hear, “You have to forget, Chloe. You have to move on, Chloe. Forget it ever happened, Chloe. Forget? Why would I forget my son? Why? When your son is eighteen and leaves for college, do you forget about him? Do you forget he ever existed? Do you erase him from your memory? Do you put all of his things away so you won’t be reminded of him? Of course not!” she raged.

  She was on a roll. The bitterness she felt inside oozed out of her as she again mimicked her well meaning friends, “Oh my gosh, Chloe, if I were you, I’d be freaking out ALL THE TIME. I mean, I wouldn’t be able to stop crying. I can’t believe you’re holding it together so well.” Chloe scoffed with frustration. “Which is it? Do you want me to cry or do you want me to act like nothing happened? I can’t win. What do they want me to do? Put on a show? Cry and sob for them? Walk around with my face disfigured and sad? They have no idea how much I cry. They have no clue how many nights I’ve cried myself to sleep.”

  She still wasn’t done, even though she knew it wasn’t wise to let anyone hear her deep-rooted resentment. It was so ugly, so consuming. But it didn’t stop her. “You know what I hear all the time? Don’t worry, you’ll have more babies. Do they think I don’t know that? I know that! But I want this baby. I’m mourning this child. It has nothing to do with future children. He can’t be replaced! I didn’t lose a baby, I lost a future. He’ll never be a toddler, he’ll never be a teenager. He’ll never anything!” Chloe drew in a breath through tight lungs, wheezing painfully. “Then there’s my favorite: Your son is an angel in heaven, watching over you. Be happy, he’s always with you.” Chloe let out a harsh bark of laughter. “Easy for you to say. Your son is sitting right next to you! How would you feel if he was an angel in heaven? Let me know how that works out for you!” She didn’t miss a beat as she continued on. “Then there’s the all time lowest-of-the-low-thing-you-can-say to a woman who has lost a baby. Are you ready for this?” Chloe cleared her throat for effect. “At least you never actually knew him, Chloe. That would make it so much harder. Are you kidding me? Do people really think I never knew my child when I carried him inside of me for nine months? How can anyone ever think that’s an okay thing to say? Do they really think I’m glad that I was never able to see my son’s personality develop and grow over the years because it makes losing him easier on me?” She dashed at her tears, letting her anger rekindle. “I’ve heard every trite and well meaning thought in the book. And do you want to know how they make me feel? Do you want to know, Jack?”

  “Yes,” he said, his eyes penetrating as he hung on every word.

  “They piss me off. Every single time. And I hate them. I hate every woman who is pregnant. I especially hate the women who complain about being pregnant again, as if they’re being tortured. Don’t they realize what a miracle it is? I hate every single woman who has a child and complains about how tired she is, or how overwhelmed she is, or how she hates changing diapers, or how her baby kept her up all night. I hate them! You know why?”

  “Why?” he asked, his voice a raspy whisper.

  “Because I want to stay up all night with my baby! I want to be tired. I want to be overwhelmed. I want to complain about being pregnant again. I want to change diapers! I want to be A MOM!”

  Chloe cried so hard, she couldn’t catch her breath. She tore her hands from Jack’s, turned and collapsed to the floor, utterly exhausted from her outburst. Jack lay down next to her and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

  “It’s okay, Chloe, let it out,” he whispered. “Just let it out.”

  She did. Deep, wrenching sobs erupted from her gut, making her entire body convulse. Jack held her tightly, mumbling soothing sounds in her ear. The animalistic wails that emerged from her soul were unrecognizable to her own ears and she let them escape, knowing that someone was close by to ground her, to save her when the pain became overwhelming.

  But it didn’t. Instead, she slowly calmed, slowly relaxed in Jack’s comforting arms. A peace she hadn’t felt before came over her in the wake of her tears, and she basked in it, and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

  Consciousness slowly enveloped Chloe as her eyes drifted open, her lashes tickling her cheeks. Her eyebrows furrowed as movement brought on an uncomfortable sensation. One arm felt itchy and irritated, her neck felt stiff and rigid. Where was she?

  Memories came swirling back and she cringed at the thought of the way she’d broken down, screaming her impossible—and dreadfully bitter—frustrations at Jack.

  Jack.

  His essence surrounded her, encircled her. His arms held her close, her back to his chest, spooning her. Her son’s cheerful nursery met her eyes as the morning light crept in through the blinds.

  It was morning.

  She and Jack had slept the night on the floor of Christopher’s room. For a moment, Chloe lay very, very still, feeling her hand firmly grasped by Jack’s, the weight of his arm around her, cocooned in his strength.

  He’d stayed with her, never leaving her alone to deal with her anguish. She felt safe, secure, protected.

  Jack must’ve sensed that she was awake as his arms briefly tightened around her, hugging her close. Then he slowly moved away and stretched. Chloe turned around to face him, feeling the sting of rug burn on one arm. He turned and faced her too.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Good morning,” he said, softly and slowly.

  “You stayed with me.”

  “I couldn’t leave you,” he said with emotion. “You are amazing, Chloe Brennan. Absolutely amazing.”

  “Thank you, Jack. I’m sorry for what I said, I…”

  “Shhhhh,” he said as he touched two fingertips to her lips. “I think it was long overdue.”

  “I erupted like a volcano.”

  “You’d been smoldering for much too long. It’s good to let it out. It’s healthy.”

  “I admit, I do feel better.”

  “You look peaceful. The anxious glint in your eyes is gone.”

  “Are my eyes horribly swollen?” she asked, knowing she must be a sight.

  His lips curved. “Yes. But you are amazingly beautiful,” he muttered, his words lazy and sluggish, the sleepy sounds of just waking up.

  “I feel surprisingly calm.”

  Jack ran his hands over his face and through his rumpled hair. “Good. Me too, actually. My body however is saying something else altogether.”

  “Sleeping on the floor was fun when I was a kid,” she told him.

  “Not so much now,” Jack agreed. “I’m too old for this.”

  “Me too.”

  He glanced at his watch. “Why don’t you take a long, hot shower—take your time—and I’ll make you breakfast.”

  “You’ll be late for work,” she objected.

  “I think I’ll take the morning off.”

  “Jack, you don’t have to do that.”

  “I know I don’t have to. I want to,” he said quietly, smiling at her.

  She smiled back, a slow, easy smile. Waking up next to Jack was nice, comforting.

  He gently ran his hand over her face. “Are you okay, Chloe?”

  “Yeah. Surprisingly, I am. Guess I felt like I’d be struck by lightning or something if I ever voiced my frustrations.”

  “No, sweetheart. You’re allowed.”

  Jack was the only person who’d given her verbal permission to let out her anger, irrational or otherwise. “I didn’t disintegrate or fall to pieces from admitting my grief. I’m still here.”

  “Thank you for sharing your life with me. All this time I assumed you were pining for Mark, mourning the loss of him from your life. I had no idea what you were really going through. It explains so much.”

  Chloe said nothing. Jack’s voice was soft, his words quiet and meant only for her, making the situation intimate. Even if someone was standing in the doorway, they wouldn�
��t be able to decipher their private conversation, and Chloe liked the closeness she felt with Jack.

  “The way you held Amelie yesterday—it was an emotional experience for you, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes. It was the first time I’ve held a baby since Christopher—and the difference was marked.”

  “At first I thought you disliked children. I was so wrong. You’re incredible.”

  “Actually, I’m afraid I haven’t handled things very well.”

  “Not true. Absolutely not true. I’d say you’ve handled yourself astoundingly well under the circumstances. You’re one of the quiet, unsung heroes of this world, incredibly strong, yet somehow wrongly looked upon as damaged.”

  “I am damaged, Jack. Make no mistake.”

  “You are strong and unmoving in the face of tragedy. That’s how I see it.”

  “Thank you, Jack. Thanks for listening. I feel as though a weight has been lifted off me.”

  “I’ll listen any time, Chloe. You won’t wear me down. Don’t ever worry about that.”

  At his words, the tears almost started up again. He had no idea how much that meant to her. Chloe stared into his baby blue eyes and he stared right back, without flinching. Softly, his fingers traced the curves and angles of her face. Jack was quickly becoming important to her, not just an acquaintance, and certainly not just a casual friend. He started to say something, but then he stopped himself. Then he said, “Go, take your time in the shower, and I’ll whip up some breakfast.”

  He helped her up and she hugged him tightly. There weren’t any perfect words to express how thankful she was for his friendship.

  Instead she said, “Grief is a strange bedfellow. It shouts, it screams, it rages, and it cries. Yet, there’s no cure, no balm, no medicine to alleviate the pain. It’s the cry that is never answered.”

  “I’m here for you, Chloe. You can hold onto me.”

  “Grief has been my cell mate for quite some time now. He stares at me and never says a word. He’s not good company and yet I don’t want him to leave. It’s a life sentence.”

  Jack shook his head with sympathy. “I hate that this happened to you. It’s not fair. I don’t know what else to say.”

  “That’s the thing—you just hit the nail on the head. There is no right thing to say. Nothing can make it better. Just your presence, your comfort, and your friendship changes everything. You have no idea how much you’ve helped me just by being here, listening to my contradictory emotions, and letting me talk about my baby. I wish more people understood that. When I left the hospital they gave me a pamphlet about grief. Unfortunately, I was the only one who read it. All it did was help me to understand that people can and will unintentionally say the wrong thing. All the time.” She grimaced. “My friends didn’t actually desert me. I isolated myself and shut them out. They tried.”

  “It wasn’t an easy time for you.”

  “By the way, I don’t really hate everyone, Jack. Not at all.”

  He grinned. “I know.”

  “I just hate that I can’t have what they have. I’m thankful for the people who try, who attempt to console me, even if everything they say is the wrong thing to say. It doesn’t matter. At least they tried and I appreciate it. I really do. It’s better than the silence I receive from most people. They’re so scared to talk to me, they don’t even try. That’s what hurts the most of anything—pretending like nothing happened. I know they’re worried they’ll say the wrong thing and I don’t blame them. Even I worry over what my response will be sometimes. My emotions are…”

  “Deep,” Jack finished for her. “I’m so sorry,” he said and hugged her once again, his hands gently massaging her back.

  “Thank you for listening and for just being here with me. That’s all I need. It’s all I’ve ever needed. I just didn’t know it.”

  ≈

  Chloe joined Jack downstairs for breakfast an hour and a half later. She’d done as he said and taken her time. While still swollen, her eyes looked better already. The pounding headache that normally accompanied a crying bout was simply a light tinge. She’d chosen a flowing blouse that hid her slightly rounded belly, evidence that she was indeed a mother. She hadn’t been as vigilant at getting rid of her baby weight as she should have been. It was like a secret trophy that she wore proudly, yet furtively. She’d learned to hide it with a creative wardrobe, but she knew it was there. And in a weird way, she liked it.

  Amazing smells were drifting from the kitchen, the kind she loved to wake up to—bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Even better, she wasn’t the one who’d had to do all the cooking.

  Jack looked fresh as she met him, wet hair and all.

  “Hope you don’t mind, I risked the paint fumes and grabbed a shower too.”

  “Not at all.”

  “I owe you a toothbrush, by the way.”

  “They’re for guests. No worries.”

  They sat down to eat and Chloe enjoyed every morsel of Jack’s cooking. “That was wonderful.”

  “It’s about the only thing I know how to cook, so enjoy it while you can. Next time, it will be the exact same menu.”

  Would there be a next time? “I look forward to it, Jack.”

  “And don’t worry about the mess. I’ll clean it all up.”

  It was only then that Chloe realized her kitchen was a disaster area. She hadn’t even noticed, she’d just felt happy to see Jack.

  She was changing, undergoing a transformation. It was both scary and exciting all at the same time. “I’ll help. It’s only fair since you did all of the cooking.”

  “Besides, you can’t help yourself, right?” Jack said with a wry smile.

  “Guilty,” she answered and they both smiled at each other. There was something different in Jack’s eyes that she hadn’t seen before. A light, a sparkle, a shine that bespoke happiness. She wondered if it was reflected in her own eyes as well.

  He leaned forward on the table as if he wanted to say something significant. “Thank you for letting me in, Chloe, for letting me see you. I’ve only known you for two weeks and I feel as if I know you now. From the moment I first saw you, I wanted to know what had put the sadness in your eyes. I wanted to fix it, to wipe it away. I wanted to see what was underneath the beautiful exterior.”

  Did Jack just call her beautiful? “Underneath?”

  “Yes, the outside is beautiful, but I wanted to know what was underneath all that beauty.”

  “And now that you have?”

  “I find the inside to be even more beautiful than the outside.”

  Chloe looked away, overcome by his words. He wasn’t being flirty or silly. He was dead serious. “Thank you, Jack.”

  Jack’s cell rang then and he answered. “Jack Alexander.”

  After a brief pause, he said, “Hi Syd.”

  Chloe watched his face as he hesitated over his next words.

  “I’m at home, of course.” He made a funny face at her and Chloe stifled a laugh.

  “Oh, you’re outside? Why are you at my house?” He rolled his eyes. “Guess I didn’t hear the doorbell,” he said casually, running his hands through his blond hair. “Fine, you caught me. I’m not at home, I admit it, okay? What are you, my mother?” Jack rubbed the stubble on his chin.

  Chloe liked him with the modern unshaven look. It gave him a rugged appearance and made him look even more like the proverbial beach bum. Chloe wished she could hear what Sydney was saying. Although she could just imagine the conclusions she was drawing. The one-sided conversation continued.

  “I’m having breakfast with Chloe.” Pause. “No, of course I didn’t stay the night.” Jack winked at her. “I didn’t lie, Syd.” Pause. “Okay, maybe I did. I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea, that’s all. Early morning breakfast implies a lot.” Pause. “No, that is not a guilty conscience speaking.” Pause. “Syd, I’m hanging up now. I’ll talk to you later. Love you too. Bye.”

  Jack sighed. “I have five mothers, just so you know.”
>
  Chloe giggled. “Five mothers who adore you.”

  “Five mothers who suffocate me.”

  His phone rang again before he could reply. “Jack Alexander.”

  He rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache. This time the conversation was curt, business-like, and Chloe surmised it was his office calling. “Yes. It’s due tomorrow. No, that’s incorrect. No, don’t do that. I’ll take care of it. All right. I’ll be in shortly.”

  “You have to go in?” Chloe guessed.

  “Yep. You know, if my work doesn’t get done, the world will not stop. If I miss a deadline, no one will die, the planet won’t explode, the apocalypse will not happen, and zombies will not take over the earth. But the way some people act, you’d think so.” He chuckled. “I’m sorry, Chloe, I have to get to the office.”

  “It’s all right, Jack. It really is.”

  He stood and held out his arms to her. She fell into his embrace willingly, glad for the comfort he provided. “I loved holding you in my arms all night,” he said softly. “I loved it.”

  Chloe had loved it too.

  “What do you think? Do you like it?” Chloe asked.

  Jack had just arrived home from work and he studied the newly painted wall intently. “I love it. You’re really talented, Chloe. I can’t believe I only closed two weeks ago. This place has been transformed.”