Life in Death

by M. Ullrich

  “Yeah, I suppose it is,” Suzanne said unenthusiastically. “Abigail misses her.” She looked at the clock and sighed. Marty would be there shortly, and so would the newfound tension that surrounded them.

  “Suzie, what’s going on?” Blake asked through the sound of wind whipping around his phone.

  “Nothing. I’m just tired.”

  “Don’t lie to me.”

  Suzanne took a deep breath. “Do you have a little time before your shift starts?”

  “I have twenty minutes to spare for the mother of my favorite patient.”

  “I’ll meet you at the benches out front. I could use some air.” Suzanne stopped to tell Abby she’d be right back and made her way outside. In just a few minutes, she was standing outside, hugging herself enough to ward off the bitter damp chill that accompanied gloomy winter days. She zipped her down jacket as she approached Blake, who had already found a vacant bench.

  “Hi.” She sat beside him.

  “Hey,” Blake said with a wide smile. “It’s cold today!” He made a show of shivering.

  “The fresh air feels good.” Suzanne inhaled deeply and allowed the clean air to burn her lungs.

  “So…” Blake started.

  Suzanne appreciated the gentle encouragement, but she wasn’t entirely sure where to begin.

  “Remember senior year when we were paired with Tammy and Michael for that physics lab?” she asked while she watched cars drive past the hospital.

  “Vaguely.”

  “Tammy and Michael had dated for two years at that point and broke up about a week before we had to work on that lab.”

  “That’s right. It was an awkward lab to be part of. They wouldn’t talk to each other, and when they had to, it would almost always end up in a fight, even if we were discussing the laws of motion.”

  Suzanne looked at Blake, smiling and scratching his beard so casually, oblivious to what he had just said. Her chin started to quiver. “We’re Tammy and Michael.”

  “What?” Blake’s face screwed up. Suzanne laughed at his confusion in spite of her tears.

  “Marty and I. I feel like Tammy and Michael. I feel bad for every doctor and nurse that has to be around us both. And don’t even think about telling me we’re not! The first time I saw you in the hospital was right after a very loud argument and my wife storming off.”

  “Hey, come on.” Blake placed his hand on Suzanne’s forearm. She liked the feeling, the warmth of the comfort. “We see this all the time. Things like this, tragedies like this, are hard for parents to handle. Please don’t worry about what the staff may be thinking. Focus on your family.” Blake spoke with such a confident softness to his voice that Suzanne was inclined to do as he said. “And you’ll always have me. Don’t forget that.” Blake entwined his fingers with hers.

  Suzanne sat and considered his words. After so many years apart, she still trusted him. He had always been a steadfast and honest presence in her life. She’d once loved this man, and it was easy to remember all the reasons why. Suzanne’s phone beeped. She read the short message and put the device back into her pocket. Marty was parking, and the anxiety Suzanne had grown accustomed to carrying tightened its grip around her heart again.

  “I think it’s time to head back inside.” Suzanne pulled her hand away.

  “Why haven’t you told Marty that you know me?” Blake said. He looked over to Suzanne, his eyes shining slightly.

  Suzanne shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. Suzanne didn’t know why. Every time she’d go to formally introduce the two, she’d freeze. Maybe she was selfish and wanted to hold on a little long to this connection that didn’t involve her wife. Maybe she was afraid of Marty having a negative reaction to her resuscitating a friendship with an ex. Maybe it was all of the above. “I guess I just don’t want to add any fuel to the fire right now.” She shrugged, appearing more nonchalant than she felt.

  “Okay.” Blake seemed to accept her reasoning. “I’ll see you inside.” He stood and walked into the hospital.

  Suzanne stood still, thinking about what he’d said.

  “Hey!” Marty’s familiar voice bellowed over the nearby traffic. Suzanne turned and greeted her with a small smile. Marty jogged to be at her side. “What are you doing out here? It’s freezing!” Marty kissed Suzanne lightly.

  “I needed fresh air.” Suzanne grimaced at how dismissive and curt she sounded. Marty hadn’t done anything, and her ire was already rising. This emotional push and pull was taxing, and she absolutely hated how Marty was still smiling at her.

  “I brought lunch and a new coloring book for Abby. This one is loaded with animals.” Marty held up an oversized shopping bag. “Come on.” She gripped Suzanne’s hand and started to lead them inside. “At least you kept your hand warm for me.” Marty’s joke and warm smile evoked an icy chill through Suzanne.

  She thought of Blake and wondered if now would be the time to tell Marty about him and their past. She tried to speak, but nothing more than a defeated sigh came out. Suzanne’s mouth turned up into a forced smile. “Abigail will love it.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “And just like that, you fell back in love with him?” Marty asked.

  “No, of course not.” Suzanne sipped her coffee. “Enough about Blake. Hurry up and tell me your side before I change my mind.”

  “You’re not still in love with him, right?”

  “No.” Suzanne laughed lightly. “I loved him. I still love him for who he is, but I’m not in love with him. Not like I am with you.” Suzanne leaned forward and kissed Marty gently. The softness of her helped calm Marty’s racing heart. “Now talk.”

  Marty grimaced at Suzanne’s demand. She looked away and began to gather her thoughts, transfixed as she watched the steam dance above Suzanne’s coffee cup. They sat side by side on the couch, talking casually about Blake until now. As sickened as she felt at even the smallest mention of a close connection between him and Suzanne, it was the easier topic to tackle. She was so unsure how to start the conversation she insisted they needed to have. Every memory came flooding back from the past several months, each more vivid than the last.

  “Some people cut themselves in order to feel during times of deep sadness or depression.” Her voice sounded hollow as it carried across the space between her and Suzanne. “I did a lot of reading on the topic after you left and after Abigail died.”

  “Did you ever…?” Suzanne’s curious eyes shined in the dim morning light.

  “That night, that woman—it was my own fucked up version of self-harm.” Marty thought she’d never be able to look Suzanne in the eye if they had this discussion, but now she felt as if that connection was her lifeline. “After a while, I felt completely numb to everything around me. I just kept working because I felt in control when I did. When I was with you and Abigail, I felt no control at all.” Marty shook her head. “You were slipping away, Abby was slipping away, my whole life was slipping away, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I put on a smile and just went through the motions.”

  “Marty, I am so—”

  “I’m not done.” Marty took a shaky breath. “I met Yvonne in the hospital cafeteria the day we had that fight about insurance and changing treatments. We talked for a bit. She turned out to be a therapist, so I thought there was no harm in sharing some of problems with her.”

  “You could’ve talked to me.” Suzanne gripped Marty’s hand.

  “No, I couldn’t, not then,” Marty said solemnly. “But I can now. We talked almost every day after that, and I became sort of addicted to the attention and the normalcy of it all. I need you to believe me when I tell you I didn’t see it as anything more than a friendship then.” Marty held Suzanne’s hand tightly. “Nothing happened until she asked me to show her a house.”

  “The night I found you?”

  Marty nodded. “She kissed me, and I didn’t stop her because I actually felt something. Not emotionally, but physically, and that took my mind away from my si
ck child and my failing marriage.” Marty’s breath was becoming ragged as she fought back tears. “I was so afraid.” She started to sob and fell against Suzanne’s side.

  Suzanne soothed Marty gently, raking her fingers through her tangled hair and brushing the tears from her cheeks. Marty was terrified telling this story would destroy this delicate thing they’d made from the wreckage of their marriage, but her fears were erased the moment Suzanne kissed her quivering lips.

  “I love you, Marty, and I am so sorry for what you went through,” Suzanne said as she cradled Marty’s red cheeks in her palms. “I’m sorry for shutting you out and making you feel so alone.”

  “My mistake isn’t your fault.” Marty cleared her throat, allowing her voice to regain some of its strength.

  “It’s not, but I played a part in our life getting to that point. I am so sorry for that.” Suzanne wiped away a tear of her own.

  “I’m sorry too. For everything I did and didn’t do. It really sucks we had to get to this point for all the mistakes and bad choices to become so clear.” Marty pulled back from Suzanne and laughed mirthlessly. “We’re some pair, aren’t we?”

  “We are indeed.” Suzanne smiled briefly before her expression clouded over. “We also have something in common now.”

  “What’s that?” Marty eyed her curiously.

  “The day we had that argument at the hospital was the day I ran into Blake for the first time.”

  “Where was I?”

  “Getting coffee,” Suzanne said.

  One cup of coffee. One decision made out of anger and fear had ultimately derailed her marriage.

  “Don’t do that,” Suzanne said as she pushed against Marty’s shoulder.

  “Do what?”

  “Analyze this.” Suzanne looked out the window. “In a fucked up situation like ours, I have to believe everything happens for a reason. What reason? I’ll never know or fully understand, but I need to believe that.”

  Marty pulled Suzanne against her and buried her nose in her fragrant blond hair. “I’ve stopped trying to understand any of this,” she whispered into Suzanne’s hair. She waited a moment, steeling herself, preparing herself for the answer to her next question. “How long before you and Blake became more…?”

  “A month before our divorce was finalized,” Suzanne sighed. “I was so hurt and scared. He offered me comfort right away, and I think at first I thought moving on was the best kind of revenge.” Marty winced. “But then I started to realize I needed the company, so I mistook that for a greater feeling than it was.” Suzanne wiped her nose. “I see now I basically used the man, but quiet nights alone? I don’t think, I couldn’t—”

  “I know.” Marty wrapped her arms around Suzanne and held her tight. “Believe me, I know.”

  “I’m sorry you had to go through this alone.” They sat silently for a few moments, just taking in each other’s presence. “Come on,” Suzanne said as she sat up. “Let me make you breakfast.” She stood and walked to the kitchen with Marty close behind.

  They set out preparing a simple breakfast together. Suzanne cooked as Marty set the table and prepared more coffee. The late morning was quiet and bright with possibilities and promise. Marty couldn’t help herself as she stole glances at Suzanne, smiling as she cooked. Life, against all odds, was starting to feel almost normal again. For the first time in months, Marty was starting to believe she could be happy once more.

  She moved quietly, her socks barely scuffing against the wood of the floor, and she pressed the length of her body against Suzanne’s. “I missed you so much.” She whispered directly into her ear, and Suzanne shivered.

  “We’ve slept together,” Suzanne blurted out awkwardly as she flipped a pancake. When she turned around slowly, Marty could see the fear in her eyes.

  “What?”

  “I know I should feel more ‘tit for tat’ about it, like it’s okay, but…” Suzanne swallowed. “Blake and I, we’ve been intimate.”

  “No.” Marty held up her hand to stop her lover’s explanation. “As far as I’m concerned, you’ve told him you won’t be ready until you’re married again. That’s why he was so eager to put that ring on your finger.”

  “Not quite,” Suzanne said with a smile. “It was actually after a pregnancy scare that I started to realize how much I still loved you.”

  “P-pregnancy scare?” Marty felt the color drain from her face.

  “It was silly. Carla actually helped me through that crisis.” Suzanne rolled her eyes. “When I realized how scared I was at just the thought of being pregnant with Blake’s child, I thought long and hard about why.”

  “Well?” Marty said, her mind still reeling.

  “Because you’re my family. I can’t imagine raising a child with anyone else.” Suzanne took a deep breath and blinked her moist eyes a few times.

  Marty wrapped her arms around Suzanne and held her close.She dared to break the silence. “What now?”

  Suzanne swallowed audibly. “Dammit.” She started stacking pancakes on the plate Marty held out. “Why can’t this just be easy?”

  “Nothing has been easy since that beautiful November day you called me while you were rushing Abby to the hospital.”

  “You’re right.” Suzanne picked up two coffee mugs, and they walked together to the table. “First, we eat. Second, we make believe there’s nothing outside of this house for us to worry about for a little longer. Third, I talk to Blake tonight.”

  Marty’s heart swelled with joy. Her body tingled with exhilaration at the idea of focusing solely on them until she had to be at work in the afternoon, but knowing Suzanne had plans to spend the evening with Blake twisted her stomach. The unlikelihood of Suzanne spending another night with her became obvious.

  Marty almost kicked herself for assuming so much so quickly. Suzanne always needed a little extra time. Why should this be any different? Marty took a bite of her breakfast and almost choked. What if Blake puts up a fight? Suzanne now knew every detail that had led to Marty’s affair. Would it be so hard for a good man to convince her that Marty wasn’t a good woman? After what she had done, Marty couldn’t even consider herself good enough.

  When Marty closed her eyes in order to calm her panic, she thought about the night she’d watched Suzanne walk away. She knew for sure she’d never survive that again.

  And Then They Grew Apart

  Marty spun a quarter on its edge for the tenth time, losing herself to the blurred sphere. Listings piled up in front of her, a grocery list sat off to the side, and several clients’ numbers were scrawled on Post-its and stuck around the perimeter of her phone. She was busy and keeping busy. Anything to free her mind of the constant nagging thoughts. They had both agreed to the more aggressive and experimental treatments for their daughter, and Abigail had just finished her induction phase of chemotherapy. This was when they were supposed to be announcing her remission, but Dr. Fox hadn’t. What he had done, however, was reassure the mothers the next phase had a much better rate of success now that they were getting aggressive. These empty assurances did little to assuage Marty’s sickening worry, and the cold space between her and Suzanne at night didn’t help.

  But they were home now. They’d arrived the day before and were given a few months away from the hospital for Abigail’s body to repair what it could before it was all broken down again. At one time, Marty would have felt hopeful, but now she was just exhausted and terrified. Every conversation with Suzanne turned into a fight, every dinner was spent in silence, and Abigail rarely felt up to anything more than lying in bed and watching a movie.

  Every time Marty closed her eyes, she was haunted by the sunken features of Abigail’s tiny face. She felt like a horrible mother, thinking about herself and her own fears while her daughter was the one suffering the most. She felt selfish and despicable. She couldn’t stop the twist in her gut every time she heard her child heave or the resentful burning in her chest when Suzanne would leave the room. Marty felt like everything
was unraveling around her, and she had no idea how to stop it.

  Her phone signaled a new message.

  Missed you at the cafeteria today.

  Marty smiled wistfully at the bright screen. I’d say I missed the cafeteria today too, but I make better coffee.

  You’ll have to make me a cup sometime.

  Marty stared at the screen. From the first day she had spoken to Yvonne, their conversations had been flirty but innocent. At times, she caught herself wondering if Yvonne was interested in something more, but she always chalked those thoughts up to an active imagination. She was married and vocal about it. Yvonne knew about Abigail and the challenges she’d been facing lately. She was a good friend, and lucky for Marty, a therapist by day. Before she came up with a response, Yvonne messaged her again.

  If you’re free tonight, and feel free to say no, I was wondering if you were available to show me those properties you were telling me about.

  Sure. Marty responded quickly and too eagerly, but she chose to ignore the excitement she felt. Meet me at seven?

  I’ll be there.

  Marty typed out the address information and sent it. She went back to work with renewed energy. The afternoon passed quickly, and it was just after six when Annmarie sat beside her.

  “Hey,”

  “Hey!” Marty spun in her chair to look at her friend. “How was your day?”

  “After five showings, the Andersons finally put in an offer.”

  “Which house?”

  “The one on Oak Terrace.”

  “Didn’t you show them that one weeks ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “And then about forty more since?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Ouch! Those kind of clients are the worst.”

  “Hey, at least they put in an offer. How are your numbers recently?”

  “Not too good.” Marty scratched the back of her neck and rolled her shoulders. “I think I put too much pressure on myself. I don’t know what the cost is going to be for this round of treatment, so I’m trying to sell, sell, and sell.” She let out a long breath. “I’m having a hard time connecting with clients like I used to because all I see is dollar signs.” She felt terrible putting all of this on Annmarie, but she had been such a good friend since the beginning.