Cherish and Simon- the First Year

by Eva Morian

  Chapter 6

  Cherish couldn’t sleep. The days leading up to the funeral zipped by. Both Emily and Simon’s parents came to help with the kids during the day. Simon, unfortunately, was a zombie at night. He laid on the bed in silent tears and she was there to hold him through it all. She listened to every word he said, every moan, and every apology. She masked her own grief for Emily because there were people around who needed comfort and she was selfless.

  Now, it was the early hours of Saturday morning, and Cherish couldn’t sleep. Downstairs with both babies, she silently folded the clothes and sorted items both sets of parents had bought. Somewhere between funeral preparations and cleaning, the cluster of bags had grown. Cherish folded another little onesie for Jr. before she held up a tiny dress for Jasmine. She tilted her head to the side and sighed deeply as she closed her eyes. The stress of the situation found itself in the form of a knot between her shoulder blades.

  Resting the dress in a pile by her side for Jasmine’s clothes, she pulled out a black sundress. For her? She’d wondered if she should even go to the funeral, but now this small token showed that she was invited? They wanted her to go?

  Cherish rubbed against the side of her neck as she pulled the entirety of the dress from the bag and blew out. It was a modest, full length dress made with light, breathable material. Lowering her hands into her lap, she sighed deeply to herself lost in thought. Today was Emily’s final rest. Jr. was just shy of ten days old and had no idea the turmoil his family went through over the woman who gave him life. She dully stared ahead at the muted television and stayed that way for a drawn-out length of time.

  Simon made his way down the steps dressed in a black suit. His hair was nicely done, his face was freshly shaven, but his tie was crooked. A lost expression accompanied his irritated, red eyes. Cherish's attention was taken by Simon's black clad form in the corner of her eye. She slowly turned her head in his direction and watched him. Spotting her, he wondered if she’d slept at all the previous night because every time he opened his eyes; she wasn’t there, “Good morning.” He said even though he didn’t mean the sentiment. He mulled about the kitchen and began the coffee maker to pick himself up. He leaned all the way onto the counter with his elbows and rested his face in his palms, “Did you sleep?” he asked rubbing his eyes.

  There wasn't a possibility she would answer him truthfully, "Yes. I slept fine." She answered. Standing, she made her way into the kitchen and pulled down a mug for his coffee. She set it down on the counter, "Did...you want Jasmine and I to come? We can stay home. Whatever you want." She said gently.

  Simon poured coffee in the mug and paused. He didn’t think she needed to ask after all she’d done for Jr. and himself. To him, she was already family, “Of course. Please…” He took a hold of her arm, “…come.”

  Cherish stared at him and saw the pain in his gaze. She felt a pinch of guilt and couldn't deny him, "Okay. Alright, I'll go for you guys." She replied. Glancing over at the time on the stove, she knew the rest of the family would soon show up. Sighing, she looked towards the babies, "Alright. I picked out a little suit for Jr. to wear and a dress for Jasmine. They're on the sofa. I'll go and wash up before your parents get here." She stated. Giving him a lasting rub on his back, Cherish began up the stairs with the sundress in hand; leaving Simon alone watching after her.

  Even though he didn’t feel the best, he knew how hard she worked to keep the house calm, and he wanted to help. He picked up each baby and dressed them and managed to smile a bit when he saw the way Jasmine stared up at him in her lavender dress. Though, it was Jr., dressed for his mommy’s funeral, that made him feel as though he’d been kicked in the stomach. His throat locked which he fought back intensely. He couldn’t and didn’t want to break down. Not yet, not before they’d even left the house.

  Cherish shut the door behind herself and lowered her head with a long sigh. The aura in the house over the last few days were quiet, bleak, and filled with stress. She made her way into the bathroom and started the shower before facing herself in the mirror. Holding the black fabric up to her body, she rubbed along her stomach and pressed a hand to her face. She didn’t have any makeup and Emily’s still rested on the space between both sinks. Oh, Emily. Inhaling a deep breath, Cherish stripped from her clothing and folded them. As she took her time to shower, cleaned up, and got dressed, a knock came sounded at the front door where Margaret and Simon Sr. waited solemnly.

  Opening the door, Simon allowed his parents inside. All of them looked as though they were going through the motions and not one hundred percent present. He handed Jasmine off to his mother while he held onto his son for the day. Both men in Emily’s life would represent her with adoration and love.

  Margaret stared at Jasmine before she sighed, “oh hello baby.” She whispered kissing her small forehead. She then looked to Simon as her husband shut the door, “Miriam and Jack will be here in a few minutes. They stopped to get breakfast at McDonalds.” She said numbly. Looking over her baby boy holding his son, Margaret huffed out sadly as she patted along Jasmine’s back, “So I take it Cherish found the dress Miriam bought her and she’s coming? Good. When Jr. is hungry, you let me know and we will sneak out to feed him, alright?”

  Simon Sr. rubbed his wife’s back as their son answered, “He’s always hungry…” Right on cue, Jr.’s face twisted. Simon stood there and stared down at his boy dumbly as he began to cry out. It didn’t even register that he had to do anything to comfort him.

  Margaret didn’t know what else to say and could only to shake her head, “God, I wish today was over.” She muttered to herself.

  After pinning her hair up and trying to make herself presentable, Cherish sighed softly to herself. Without another word, she shut all the lights off and made her way down the steps. Soft murmurs echoed from the lower floor followed by a coughed cry. Simon was the first to catch sight of her, “You look nice.” He commented.

  Stepping off the final step, Cherish made eye contact with he and his parents by the front door, “Thank you. Hello Mr. and Mrs. Gabot.” She said approaching them. She saw that Jr.’s face had taken on a red hue and reached over, “Here. I’ll take him really quick.” She whispered pulling his crunched body onto her shoulder. She grabbed a receiving blanket from the back of the couch and sat down; covering Jr. and her breasts from view.

  Simon watched Cherish take his son away. Though he lacked the energy, he was still as pleasant as ever, “I have coffee in the kitchen if you want some, dad.”

  Simon Sr. simply shook his head and waved his hand to refuse, “I’m fine. Thank you.”

  As Cherish worked on Jr. to latch on, she then looked to Margaret, “Thank you for the dress, Mrs. Gabot.” She said.

  Margaret approached with a sullen half-smile and sat down on the cushion beside her, “No, no need to thank me. It was Miriam.” She replied much to Cherish’s surprise.

  While Jr. nursed, time seemed to drag by in thick silence. Cherish tapped a finger along his back while Margaret stared at the clock. Before long, the doorbell rang, and Margaret glanced over her shoulder to her boys, “They’re here.” She stated.

  Simon Sr. opened the door and placed a hand on each of their backs as they walked in, “Cherish has decided to come.” He said to them.

  Jack gave a weak, waning smile to Cherish, he was thankful she wouldn’t miss out, “Thank you.” He said as he nodded to her.

  Cherish shook her head, “It’s not a problem.” She whispered in return.

  Jack wrapped his arms around Simon and could feel the pain in him; the same pain in himself, “Are you holding up?” he asked. Simon silently nodded and avoided everyone’s gaze.

  Margaret stood with Jasmine in her arms and made her way to Miriam. The latter tearfully stared at her before she lowered her head onto her shoulder. Margaret rested against her hair, “Shhh…shhh now. We’re going to get through this.” She whispered.

  Cherish watched from the sidelines quietly before she p
ulled Jr. off and began to pat his back. He whined out in protest before a gas bubble emitted from his little mouth. Standing, she returned to Simon’s side and waited. Jack pat his flat palm against Simon’s back, sighed, and wiped the corners of his eyes, “…Is everyone ready?” he asked.

  She handed Jr. to Simon turning her back to them, “I’ll grab the baby bags and meet you all in the cars.” She responded quietly.

  Margaret blew out before she looked to her husband, “Will you drive Simon’s car for the babies? I’ll drive with Miriam and Jack.”

  Simon Sr. nodded without hesitation and grabbed his son’s keys from the dining table. Leading the way, he and Cherish buckled the babies into their car seats with her sitting between them.

  The ride to the funeral home was suffocating and tense with unspeakable sadness filling the never-ending void. Cherish stared down at Jr.’s face with a heavy feeling her chest. He would never understand the full weight of grief that surrounded his birth. She didn’t want him to think about his mother’s death in a negative light when he grew up and didn’t want him to blame himself. She ran her fingertips along his hairline and lost herself in thought. If she was to be in Jr.’s life through the years, and if Simon would allow, she wouldn’t let him forget who his mother was. He would grow up to love the woman who gave him life.

  As the car rolled into the funeral home’s parking lot, they all could see the turnout for Emily’s life celebration. People stood outside and waited around for the service to begin. Cherish held her breath while Simon Sr. drove around the back of the building; followed by his wife. There were so many cars and people that Cherish suddenly felt out of place. She held back as they got the babies out and watched as the family slowly made their way towards the large archway where the hearse was parked.

  The moment they stepped inside of the main lobby, all eyes turned to face them. Simon was met with distant family members, Emily’s childhood friends, mutual friends, and colleagues they worked with. Within moments they were flocked with hugs, sympathy, and various stages of grief. Simon reciprocated their words and kind gestures but, on his end, it was empty. There wasn’t a word they could say or a hug they could give would comfort him. Nothing took away the fact that his wife laid dead, on her final bed, in the other room. The following comments about Jr. and how he favored Emily only drove Simon’s grief deeper. He glanced down at his son in the stroller and clenched his jaw. He was sweet, Simon could see the slight traces of Emily, and he was none the wiser to the attention he received.

  Holding Jasmine close, Cherish waited a bit before she walked further around the entrance to where other guests loitered about. Silently, she waited her turn in line to sign the guest book with their names, before she went to a lone chair in the corner and sat.

  After greeting the people who reached out to him, Simon glanced over his shoulder and looked for Cherish. He thought she was right beside him but couldn’t see her. She’d been such good support the past few days that he felt tense without her presence. Not wanting to draw attention, he wandered close towards the table displaying a collage of Emily.

  There were pictures from a baby to a child with her parents at Christmas, a teenager with her best friends, going through school, prom, a young woman with her first car, diploma, and then his wife. The pictures of when they were dating and carefree. His eyes slowly drifted down towards their wedding day, their first house together, and lastly their pregnancy with Jr. All the sadness in the world churned through him.

  He missed her. Too much for words.

  Taking off his glasses, he wiped his sleeve against his eyes repeatedly, but they never dried. He opened his mouth and tried to say how he felt, but choked, and nothing came out.

  Margaret looked around at all of the guests with a pained smile while Miriam clenched her hands into fists. Margaret placed a hand on Simon’s back looking to him, “Are you ready to go in?” she asked. Simon heaved to catch his breath before nodding, not because he was ready, but he didn’t want to make Emily wait for him any longer. In his mind, she expected him one final time.

  Margaret looked up at her son with tears in her eyes and reassuredly nodded. She took a strong grip of his hand while she left her husband with their grandchild. Jack held onto his wife who’d already begun to moan. She was about to see her daughter for the first and last time. Looking over them, Margaret felt her stomach drop as she began to lead her son through the large double doors. Cherish watched after them from afar before she lowered her head and tears dripped onto Jasmine’s blanket.

  Emily’s glossy, white coffin was perched upon the stand. There were purple, white, and blue candles held in candelabras surrounding her. Bright purple flowers, of different hues and shades, adorned her casket. And in the center of it all, was Emily fast asleep and dressed in a white, lace dress she loved to wear on date nights with him. Striking Margaret deeply in the chest, she pressed her wrist against her lips and nose. Shutting her eyes, she stifled a sob and wrapped her arm around Simon’s.

  It was surreal.

  Unable to see her yet, Simon knew she was there. As they approached, she came into view, made up differently than he remembered without care. Miriam’s cries amplified the moment she caught sight of her daughter, “No. No. No.” she whined. She broke down in that moment which only radiated through the people in the room, “Not my baby. Not my baby.” The impact for Simon wasn’t as hard since he’d already seen her, but her mother’s cries hurt him deeply.

  the director stood in the doorway and calmly ordered people to join them within, “Would the extended family please sit in the first three pews. We’re about to begin.”

  Sitting down between his parents, Simon placed his face into his hands and tried to hold himself together. Cherish looked around as everyone crowded the doors for a seat. Standing at the end, she brought Jasmine close to her frame and entered the crowded room. There she was, laying there, not quite as remembered. Still, Emily took Cherish’s breath away and a weight pitted in her stomach. Sitting in the last row, she couldn’t see very much but she listened all the same.

  A pastor from Miriam and Jack’s church had flown in for the occasion. He took a stand at the microphone and began to read prayers before speaking about Emily’s life, “We are here to celebrate the life of Emily Priscilla Gabot. A perfect daughter, devoted wife, and a loving mother. Sadly, God has taken her home far too soon, but fear not for he has taken her to his paradise to walk in the sunlight with him until her loved ones may join her.” He said.

  Continuing the traditional words of comfort and prayer, he finished thirty minutes later, “If Emily’s friends and family members would like to come and speak in her memory, please feel free.”

  Margaret looked at Simon and saw the same, vacant expression he’d worn over the last three days. She dabbed at her reddened eyes before she turned to her left and saw Emily’s parents. Jack rocked slightly back and forth while Miriam’s moans hummed through the silence.

  A woman from halfway down stood with a sheet of paper in her hands, “I have something to say.” She whispered. Making her way down the aisle, she passed by Emily, and quickly shut her eyes as she took the stage. Her hands shook nervously as she rolled her shoulders back and looked over the crowd, “My name is Heather Brinkley and I was Emily’s best friend. We grew up together on the same street and lived in the same dorm through college. Emily went for business and I was the odd, wild child who barely passed. She kept me sane and stayed on me to keep my grades up…” Heather’s voice cracked as she looked down at Emily beneath her, “…I will never forget her, and I will always be thankful for what she’s done. When she met Simon an-and he adored her. I was the maid of honor in their wedding four years ago and she was so happy. So…so happy that she’d found the man of her dreams. I had to move away to Connecticut for work and I will say that I will always regret the decision. She called me when she was pregnant with Simon Jr., and I kept putting off when I could come down to see her. I told her, I would be there a few d
ays after he was born…” Breaking down, Heather lowered her head and held her breath as she tears streamed down her face. The paper crinkled in her tight grip, “…I didn’t know it’d be like this. I’m so sorry, Emily. I’m so sorry…” Folding the paper, she quickly wiped her eyes and stepped away. Walking down the steps, she looked in on Emily’s face and mouthed “I love you” before she returned to her seat.

  The aura in the room went from sad to tearful as the pastor returned to the podium, “Anyone else?” he asked quietly. One by one, people came forth and shared their memories of the young, vibrant woman that once graced the earth. Coming forth one final time, the pastor asked if anyone was left.

  Simon found the strength to do what scared him most. Walking towards the podium, he stopped the moment she came into direct view and stared at her; frozen in place. The entire room fell silent. Cherish craned her neck to see what was going on and met his face from afar.

  Oh no.

  Swallowing, he took a step forward and faced the audience behind the microphone. With a sniff, he collected himself and cleared his throat, “Thank you…everyone for coming. I’m Simon Gabot, Emily’s husband…” Feeling himself crumble, he paused blinking the water from his eyes and fighting to speak, “…I still can’t believe she’s gone.”

  As his voiced filtered through the room, people around began to break down and cry. Cherish cupped a hand over her mouth and lowered her head. Her heart broke.

  Saying what many people felt, he released a heavy sigh, “All I want is to have her back, to live the life she deserved, and grow old together…” His voice faded into a hush. His fists clenched against the podium, “…it still feels like you’re here with me, but you’re not.” He whispered. Coming to terms, he spoke the last part with rationality, “Not in a conventional way, but you’ll always be with me, Jr., our parents, and our friends…. excuse me.” Pulling out a tissue, he cleaned himself for a second. Wiping his nose, he shoved it back in his pocket and continued, “I was blessed to have you and that you shared your life with me. That you…created a life with me.” He gave a listless laugh, “I was never worthy of you, not by a longshot, but you were my soulmate and I love you Emily. I always will.” Tears fell, and he quickly wiped them away. His heart broke all over again for the hundredth time since he brought Jr. home. This time hurt the most, “I-I’ll always remember you. The special memories only we had. Stories only we know and…even though you didn’t get to meet Jr.” He stopped.