The Suicide King

by Vanessa Marie

  "I think to the outside world, he presented a tough exterior; but to us, we knew he was all marshmallow. If he could boast about Grace's achievements or anything Maggie did to make her the cool wife, he did. He never shut up about them. And his stories were hilarious because every time he told them, they became more and more embellished. He was a great storyteller and you enjoyed listening to his stories, even if you'd heard it before. Because of his animations, he made things fun.

  "I also don't think he realized how many people he's helped or people's lives he has impacted along the way. That's something I wish he realized and knew. How many lives he truly touched. In the last few days, I've had more people reach out to me, or tell me stories about something he did for them and didn't want any recognition for. Those are the things I wish he could have held on to.

  "We don't really talk about the dark side of this job and what each moment can do to us. It's acknowledged by not acknowledging it. We all know we see the worst of the worst. Some of the things we encounter, you wouldn't have thought could be possible. But the reality is staring you in the face, and you're the one who has to make the decisions to rectify it. The hardest part is when a select few make the whole look bad. To say this job is difficult would be a gross understatement. When we first started, there used to be a brotherhood. A camaraderie. A second family. We checked on one another.

  "I don't know when it happened, but we stopped checking. Jason and I were even guilty of this in the last few years. Life happened. Work happened. Things seemed to get to the point where everyone was drifting away from one another. I don't know if Jason was reaching out for help, because I wasn't paying close enough attention. My head was down, and I was staring at my own feet. I failed him as his best friend and his brother because I wasn't there.

  "There hasn't been a thing in life we haven't done together, and quite frankly, I feel cheated he took this away from me. We always talked about who would die first. How we would go and when. It was supposed to be me. I was supposed to go out in a blaze of glory, jumping off an eighty-foot building as I somersaulted through the air, shooting the bad guy, and saving the girl.

  "Maybe we watched too many Die Hard movies, too much Rambo or action flicks, in general…but we both talked about retiring together. Forcing our wives to move South and put up with us as we grew more annoying in our old age. We won't have any of that now. I feel like someone cut off my left arm. My wife is my better half, but Jason was my other half. They both made me whole, and I don't know how I'm going to get through this life without him. I wish he'd come to me. To any of us instead of doing what he did.

  "Grace, I promise to you now before God and every person here that I will be here for you in any capacity you need me or want me. I will never stop being your uncle or checking in on you. If you need a date to a father-daughter dance, I'm your guy. If you need me to scare some pimple-faced boy who likes you, I'm your guy. Close your ears, Chief, nothing to hear here."

  Frank cleared his throat and paused for a moment.

  "And if you ever need someone to walk you down the aisle, I can do that for you too. I can never replace your dad, but I can be a cheap stand-in."

  My knees wobbled, ready to give out. Everything he said assaulted me from every side. I wanted to tuck into a ball and hide from all the truths he'd dropped in everyone's laps. I would miss out on every promise we'd ever made to each other. Every promise I'd ever made to Maggie and every promise I'd ever made to Grace.

  15

  Our house was a moving sea of people. I wasn't even sure if the max capacity of the structure could hold this much weight. If I were alive, it would have been the kind of comment I would have made to Maggie, who by all accounts looked completely overwhelmed.

  She stood in the kitchen with a casserole pan in her hands and turned in a circle, once, twice, a third time, until my mom grabbed her by the shoulders and brought her to a stop.

  "Maggie, honey, what are you doing?"

  Through her tears, Maggie blew out a sigh. "I don't know where to put it. They just keep coming with them, and there's no more room. The fridge is full. The freezer is full. How many tater-tot casseroles do we need? What is a tater-tot casserole? There isn't any room!" Her pitch rose with every word.

  My mom took the dish from her hands. "Give me this. We will find a place for it. Even if it's in the trash. No one needs to know."

  I snorted and so did Maggie. If there was one thing my mom was good at, it was keeping it together during a crisis. She could compartmentalize like a pro and fixing things was her job. This was a problem, a puzzle to be solved, and it looked like she needed something to focus on.

  "How are we supposed to get through this? I didn't want all these people over here. I want this to be done."

  My mother looked to her left, looked to the right, and then promptly dropped the casserole in the trash like she'd promised.

  Maggie's laugh was on the verge of hysterics as two of the three most important women in my life grasped hands.

  "Listen to me. We are Kings. We will hold our heads high like Kings, and we will power through this horrendous day like the Kings we are. No one says how long we have to put up with this, but we're doing it for him. For them. So everyone can get a chance at closure. Our healing will begin after, okay?"

  I hated they felt like they had to do this pomp and circumstance for other people. Like they didn't get a say in who was invading our home when it looked like all they wanted to do was crumble. Something I'd caused. I was the reason they were all here. I was the reason a casserole was bringing my wife to the edge. My hands shook while Luke glared on.

  "Go get some fresh air while I try to make sense of this craziness, okay?"

  Maggie wiped her hands on a dish towel and nodded. "Okay."

  As Maggie exited the kitchen, Grace ran into her in the hallway. "Mom, can I go to Kylie's? I can't stand it in here. It's claustrophobic."

  Kylie ran up behind them with her mom, Sonny, on her heels. "Hey, Mags."

  "Are you okay with this plan they've cooked up?" Maggie asked, her shoulders sagged in exhaustion.

  "Of course. I was coming over to see if you were all right with it. I wasn't sure if you wanted to keep her close to you right now, or what you wanted to do. The girls asked me, but I told them both it was your decision."

  "Please, Mom! I can't stand it here. I'll come home when everyone is gone," Grace pleaded.

  My two girls shared a knowing look. Like this entire ordeal was torture to both of them. They wanted peace and quiet.

  "As long as you're sure you're okay with it, Son." Maggie lifted a brow.

  Sonny nodded and rubbed Maggie's shoulders. "Of course I am. You know I will help in any way I can. I'll keep a close eye on them, and when you're ready to kick everyone out, Kyle is around here somewhere. Use him. He doesn't mind being bossy or the bad guy."

  "Thanks, Son."

  Maggie held her arms out to Grace, who stepped into them reluctantly. "I'll come get you in a little bit. Okay?"

  "We're literally going to be across the street, Mom."

  "I know. Have fun. I love you."

  The girls weaved their way through the house, and I watched Maggie's bottom lip quiver. "She loves you, too, Maggie. You know she does," Sonny said in a soothing voice.

  Maggie nodded and wiped at her face. "I'm going to get some air. I'll see you soon."

  With that she walked toward the back of the house. I wanted to wrap her in my arms more than anything and reassure her. To tell her Grace was her biggest fan. All she ever did was sing her mom's praises. I don't know why she wouldn't say I love you back, but it hurt to watch. I couldn't imagine how it felt to Maggie.

  Maggie came to an abrupt halt before she stepped out the back door. And I stopped just short of running into the back of her. I tried to inhale her scent, but I couldn't. It was almost like I was blocked from that specific privilege too. The voices filled the air, and I knew why she'd stopped.

  "I heard he did it be
cause he cheated on her and got caught," one person said.

  "Well, I heard she gave him the gun and told him to do it," another responded in a high-pitched voice.

  A third replied, "I don't care what anyone says, if he were my husband, I would have prevented it. She should have done something. It's not like she didn't know."

  My hands closed into fists as heat crept up my face. The audacity of these women. Not only to say such cruel things about something they had no idea about, but to say it in my home and at my wake, pissed me off to no end. And the fact my wife had overheard them made me shake with rage like I'd never felt before.

  Maggie clenched and unclenched her fists and cleared her throat as she stepped outside. The voices all halted and were replaced by false pleasantries. Hi, Maggie! Oh, I'm so sorry for your loss. It was such a beautiful service.

  My wife being the badass she was, lifted her hand and cut them off as they exchanged nervous glances. "You can all save it. I heard you. I don't really give two shits what your theories are. What I do care about is that you're careless enough to spew them where my daughter could have overheard you. Leave before I lose my shit and make a scene." She pointed back toward the front of the house.

  The three of them cast wary, wide glances at one another and scurried off the deck and into the house.

  "I told you she was a crazy bitch."

  "Let's go."

  "I'm telling my husband."

  They all acted as if leaving was their idea, but I'd never been so proud to see Maggie hold her own. Maggie walked out onto the deck and blew out a shuttered breath.

  A voice we both knew and loved spoke from behind us. "Don't listen to them. People always say the most insensitive and rude things known to man after a tragedy. I'm just sorry you had to hear it." Anette strolled across the deck and leaned against the railing.

  "If that's what they were saying while I was standing there, Lord only knows what else they've been saying. And those are supposed to be our friends. Geez, Anette. How am I supposed to even think about getting through this and help Grace through this when the people around us are being so vicious?" Maggie stared out into the yard.

  Anette took a drink of a beer I knew was from my stash in the garage fridge—something only a best friend would know—and passed it to Maggie, who took a long pull. "You know the truth, Maggie. You know what your daily struggles were like and what your homelife was like behind closed doors. It's no one else's business. Don't give these assholes your pain because they don't deserve it. Don't let them invent some scandal that never existed and then spend the energy you need to heal on trying to disprove their theories. This may be completely crass, but fuck it and fuck them. I may not know this pain, but I understand the pain of loss…so don't let anyone tell you how to grieve. Do what you need to do to get through this. Just please don't let other people distract you with their rumors, because you've been through enough."

  Maggie took a swig of the beer. "I just worry for Grace. She already misunderstands so much. She thinks we fought about money because she took lessons and they cost too much. She thinks things were her fault because of it. When in reality, I would get upset with him for working so much overtime to make extra money we didn't need. I wanted more time with him. Time to me was more valuable than any amount of money he could ever make. He never understood that. It was always an argument. The job always came before us." Maggie sucked in a bitter snort. "I think she thinks we were going to get divorced. I heard her telling Kylie all we did was fight and it would have been better if we did. As far as I knew we were never to that point. I just wanted him to give the therapy a real chance. I didn't realize she heard all of it when I tried to be conscious of our arguments being behind closed doors."

  "Kids hear way more than we give them credit for. She's young. The more you talk to her and explain things as time goes on, she'll understand that marriage is complicated. It didn't mean you were giving up on him."

  "No, he gave up on us." Maggie took another long pull off the glass bottle.

  Anette bumped shoulders with the love of my life. "I don't think he gave up on you, babe. He gave up on himself. He didn't think he could handle any more of all the traumas that had piled up over the years. Maybe that little boy was the catalyst to it all."

  Maggie dragged her hands over her face. "I don't know. Maybe that was his breaking point. I know the nightmares never stopped. He told me he didn't know how much more he could take. I knew he was struggling, and I thought I did all the right things to get him the help he needed. Maybe I should have done more?"

  "Real talk? Since you're my best friend and we've talked about this before?"

  "Real talk."

  Anette took the beer from Maggie and chugged the rest before slamming it on the railing. She was quiet a moment before looking directly at the woman who she'd shared as many moments with that I'd shared with her husband. "Maybe you could have. Maybe you could have pushed harder for him to seek more treatment. You've admitted to me multiple times that you walked around on eggshells. And don't take this the wrong way, I'm not shaming you because this is not on you in any way. He made the decision to do this to you and your family. You asked if there was more you could have done. My answer is maybe. Do I think there was more we all could have done? I look at it like this. I know families with addicts who did do every single thing they could to help them. There wasn't any stone left unturned to try to save them, and it didn't make a bit of difference. Sometimes, I think the demons just win. Sometimes, I think no matter what we do or don't do matters. So I don't think it's a black-and-white answer." Anette lifted her shoulders and let them fall on a heavy exhale. "We will never know what could have helped or if you could have done more, because he took any chance for you to find out away. I know it's easy for me to say, but that's my opinion and no-bullshit answer."

  Tears fell down Maggie's face. "Thank you. You're the first person to be brutally honest with me and not give me the same 'it's not my fault answer.' I needed some harsh truth only a best friend could give."

  I realized how much of burden Maggie carried. I hoped and prayed for the first time in my life she would heed Anette's advice. All of her pain. All of her suffering had been caused by my choices, and I didn't want her to have more of it because people thought they deserved answers to questions that had nothing to do with them.

  16

  Every time we appeared into someone's day, it was like we walked into the edge of a scene. Easing into the backdrop and then becoming a part of what was going on. I don't know what was up Luke's ass this time, but as soon as the next room appeared, he shoulder-checked me hard into a file cabinet, causing a plant on top of it to rock back and forth.

  "What's your deal? Why are you always so hostile?"

  "Take a look around and see if you can figure that one out, dickwad," he spat.

  One wall had a large window of yellow-stained blinds from years of abuse from the sun. In front of it sat a large desk stacked with files and paperwork. Mildew and dust hung in the air. The office was clean but cluttered. File cabinets stacked side by side lined the far wall and around to the side we were standing by. Two chairs sat opposite the desk. Above them new posters thumbtacked in place with folded edges and corny sayings. It's all about perspective and Need to Taco 'bout it? It looked like someone had tried to breathe new life into an old building on a limited budget. Pops of color peppered the room in an attempt to make it comforting.

  "I don't know where the hell we are, or why you always find the need to put hands on me."

  His shoulder was still pressed against mine, and I wanted him off. I shoved against him, doing my best to get the immovable object that was Luke out of my way. It was futile. He huffed and shoved one arm out, slamming me into the file cabinet again with a whoosh. All of the air left my lungs.

  The door to the office opened and two women walked in, closing the door behind them.

  "So, I saw your email this morning about Grace King. I've spoken with Mrs. King
about the situation in general, and she wanted me to keep an eye on her while they try to get through this as best as they can. Has something happened in your class?" The woman sat behind the desk and took a sip of her coffee.

  "Who is this lady and why are they talking about my daughter?" My gut clenched and churned. I felt sick.

  Luke's penetrating stare shut me up.

  The redheaded woman who'd entered sat down in one of the chairs across from the desk and handed the blond woman a piece of paper. "As you know, Grace is in my English class, and she's been really withdrawn for obvious reasons. We've been working on a creative writing lesson, and this is what she wrote. It's concerning. Obviously I've seen the news, and I'm sure some of the other kids in class have as well. As have their parents, so I can't imagine what all the kids have said to her. However, she seems to think this is all her fault."

  My head snapped up, and I stalked over to the desk and tried to snatch the paper from the blonde's hand. I grabbed for it, but instead of finding purchase, my hands went right through it.

  "What the fuck, Luke! How can you slam me into a file cabinet, but I can't grab the damn paper?"

  "You can't mess with what's going on in real time, moron."

  "I need to see what it says. Grace can't blame herself for any of this. She's blameless."

  "Well, maybe you should have thought about that ahead of time."

  "Are you fucking kidding me right now?" I growled and launched myself at him.

  He maneuvered himself in a way that not only anticipated my attack, but he also caught and turned me around in a choke hold that no matter how hard I thrashed, I wasn't moving.

  Luke lowered his mouth to my ears. "Now stop throwing a hissy fit and watch."

  My chest rose and fell heavily against his forearm.

  The blonde finished reading and looked to the redhead. "Wow. I don't even know what to say. Have you called Mrs. King about this?"

  "Not yet. Grace turned it in yesterday, and I saw it late last night when I started grading and emailed you as soon as I read it. I don't know how we proceed with this. Do we talk to her first and then call her mom? Or call her mom and then talk to her? All I know is this essay is a cry for help, and we can't do nothing. There are too many kids that nothing is done, and she can't be one of them. Not here. Not on our watch."