Without You Here

by Ashby, Carter

  "Okay. Well. Did you see my room?"

  I smiled the best I could and then let my ex-boyfriend take me on a tour of his childhood.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I enjoyed seeing all of Blake's childhood things. The old articles he'd written for the school newspaper in junior high and high school; his soccer trophies from elementary school; the love letters from his first girlfriend when he was thirteen. Those he didn't actually volunteer...I found them when I was digging through his closet. Which he told me not to do. But I was curious. And he'd wanted me to be interested. So here I was. Interested.

  "Dear Blake," I read from one of the letters as I sat cross-legged in the middle of his bed. "I really like the shirt you're wearing today. You look so handsome. Do you want to hold hands at the assembly, today? Tell Todd to tell Jessica to tell me, so I'll know not to hold hands with Levi instead. Love, Crystal." I just laughed and laughed. These letters were so adorable.

  Blake was leaning on his dresser with his arms folded over his chest, staring at me and shaking his head. He looked a lot like his dad, when he did that. Only he stared at me with scorn whereas Wyatt always seemed amused. "I'm not sure, now, why I thought this would be fun."

  "Oh, please. You love the attention. Oh! Oh! Baby pictures! I need to see some baby Blake pictures!" I bounced on the bed.

  He rolled his eyes and smiled. "I think Mom kept the photo albums in their room."

  I followed him across the hall and stopped as soon as I stepped into Wyatt's room. Maybe he was right not to want to bring me here. That was the bed where he and his wife had made love and conceived a child. Where he'd held her while she was sick and dying.

  The bed looked so much like a woman had made it that morning. It was neatly made. There were shams on the pillows, which were perfectly arranged. I couldn't imagine the amount of work Wyatt was doing just to try and keep Amberlee alive in this house. It was completely neurotic.

  Blake was digging through the bottom drawer of a tall dresser over against the wall. I turned and saw a pile of video cassettes next to a TV on top of a smaller dresser. The videos were the only things that looked messy. They were pulled out of their cases and scattered haphazardly over the surface. "A VCR?" I said, going to the machine next to the TV. "Who has these anymore?" I read the labels on the videos and realized they were home movies.

  "Dad likes to play those when he goes to bed. Says he likes hearing her voice when he's falling asleep."

  I turned on the TV and pushed play on the VCR, since there was already a tape in there. Blake abandoned his search for photos and sat next to me on the bench at the foot of the bed. The screen flickered on and the picture was wobbly as the camera shifted. Then there was Amberlee. The camera backed up and refocused. Amberlee's long, dark hair hung in her face as she reached down into a crib and lifted her baby boy onto her shoulder.

  I smiled at Blake, but his eyes were locked on the screen.

  Amberlee turned and smiled at the camera. No, she smiled at Wyatt behind the camera. There was so much love and life in that smile that my chest tightened with emotion. Sadness. Compassion. Definitely some envy.

  "Are you going to video me breastfeeding?" she asked, as she sat back in a glider rocker and began unfastening the buttons on her shirt.

  "You told me you wanted video of every single moment of Blake's life. So here you go," said a young Wyatt. His voice sounded a little different. Maybe not as deep. But I would have recognized it any day.

  Amberlee blushed and rolled her eyes. "We won't be able to show it to people if you film my bare breasts."

  "That's not very progressive of you, baby girl. Feed the child already. Quit fucking with my artistic expression."

  Blake and I laughed. He said, "I forget what a smartass he always was. He hasn't been himself for so long."

  Amberlee laughed. "Don't curse around the baby," she said.

  "Sorry, babe."

  She opened her shirt and young Wyatt whistled.

  "Shut up," she said, laughing. She pressed the baby to her breast and then looked up at Wyatt with tears in her eyes. "Oh, Wyatt, isn't he perfect?" She looked back down at her baby.

  The camera moved around a minute. It was set down so that Amberlee was still in the center, but at a slightly crooked angle. And then young Wyatt came into view. Skinnier. And no gray hair. But still big and strong. He cupped Amberlee's jaw and kissed her. His hand stroked down her neck and her mouth opened and closed with his kiss. He pulled back and the two young parents smiled down at their baby.

  "I love you so much, Wyatt," Amberlee said.

  "I love you too, A," young Wyatt replied.

  I swallowed hard, trying not to well up. It was so beautiful. He belonged to her so deeply.

  The screen flickered to another scene. It was darker and the camera was headed down the hall. "Blake," came Amberlee's whispered voice. "Just in case you ever doubt how much your daddy loves you, I wanted you to see this."

  The camera turned into Wyatt's room. He was asleep on top of the covers in his boxers with the baby sleeping on his chest.

  Amberlee's voice came again. "He rocked you for an hour and a half. You finally fell asleep and he was afraid to put you down. So you two ended up like this."

  Blake laughed. I looked up and saw tears streaming down his cheeks. But he was smiling. "It's funny seeing them like that. They were nineteen. A couple of kids."

  "They looked really happy together," I said.

  Blake's smile faded. "I think they were, for the most part. I...." He stopped.

  I watched him. The video was still playing in the background. Blake's eyes were locked on it. "What?" I asked.

  He shook his head. "I don't know. I loved my mom. I miss her like crazy. But I think that relationship was pretty lopsided."

  "How?" I asked.

  "She...she was great. A really good person. But she wasn't strong. As I got older, it seemed like he did most of the giving and she did most of the taking. Seemed to work out for them. You'd never hear Dad complain. If she needed something, he'd just get up and do it. I wonder, now, though...seeing him the way he's been...if maybe he gave too much. Maybe she took too much from him. Because he should be able to live, now. And he just can't seem to."

  The camera was on baby Blake. Amberlee was making goo-goo noises to get him to laugh. He couldn't be more than three months old. He was just laying in his crib, squirming and making gassy faces.

  "Blake, you were the cutest baby," I said.

  "Hey, little man," Amberlee cooed. "Can you smile? Can you smile at the camera?"

  "What the hell, A?"

  The camera swung up to where young Wyatt was standing in the doorway gawking at her. He was dressed in torn jeans and a dirty t-shirt, sweat and dirt on his skin.

  "You can't keep videotaping him," he said. He came in and must have stood next to Amberlee. The camera was back on the baby.

  "But he's so cute! I don't want to miss any of this."

  "He's boring, is what he is. Just lays there. Come take a shower with me."

  "No, he's gonna smile. I wanna see him smile."

  "You've filled up forty hours of tape of him just in the past week. Come shower with me and then we'll go out to dinner or something. We can walk him around the mall. He loves all the lights."

  There was silence. And then sniffles. And then crying. The sound of Wyatt shushing her. And then the camera cut out.

  "I remember Dad saying how she got obsessed with recording everything. They put her on antidepressants for postpartum," Blake said. "What happened was, right after I was born, there were some complications. She wound up having a complete hysterectomy within the year. But they'd told her soon after I was born that there would be no more babies. She was devastated. Here." He jumped up and sifted through the videos. He ejected the one we'd been watching and popped in a new one. Then he came back and sat next to me. He used the remote to fast forward. "In this one you can see what she was really like. Most of the time. It was like she jus
t didn't know how to be happy. Most of the time she could fake it for family get-togethers or if the camera was on. But the rest of the time, she was just, I don't know, unsatisfied."

  "That's hard. What she went through not being able to have more children," I said. "At such a young age. That would be traumatizing."

  "Yeah. It was, Ettie. And nobody blamed her at all for her depression. She had a right to her pain. But I'm saying you read stories about people who overcome hardship. You meet these survivors who overcame and are still overcoming and yet they still manage to have a zest for life. I'm saying my mom...my mom wasn't one of those people."

  He clearly had to choke the words out. He didn't want to say them. And if it weren't for Wyatt, he probably wouldn't have had to go down this path. But I think he was trying to find ways to help his father.

  "The thing is," Blake said. "I don't think Dad realizes it. I think he just worshiped her so much he never saw a flaw. And he's so easygoing he just went with the flow of her moods. He let her take the lead in the relationship when she wasn't strong enough to do it. I guess that's on him. He should have stepped up and taken charge."

  "He doesn't seem like the kind of man to let a woman walk all over him."

  "No...it wasn't like that. It was more like, he was just always trying to make her happy. And at some point, he should have realized there was nothing he could do to make that happen. So...I guess...he should have given up on that and concentrated on doing what was best for her and himself and our family. I mean, I was here, too. And so much of his energy was spent worrying over Mom. Even when she wasn't sick. I don't know. I just...I don't know what I'm trying to say. I just want him to see things for what they really were. You'll hear him say shit like, 'She was the strong one,' or 'I'm nothing without her.' And...that's just not the way it was."

  He had paused the video. Now he pushed play. "This is one of those videos Dad wanted to erase, but Mom said she wanted to keep it to remind her of her mistakes."

  It looked like the aftermath of Christmas morning. Three-year-old Blake and Wyatt were sitting on the floor with a bucket of soldiers, standing them up in battle lines. Wrapping paper was everywhere. Amberlee was laying on the couch in her robe with an empty coffee mug dangling from her fingers.

  "She'd been like that the whole time. The whole Christmas morning," Blake said. "The only time she got up was to fix the camera."

  Blake and Wyatt played. Their soldiers attacked each other, made shooting noises and grenade explosions and dying sounds. Wyatt tousled Blake's hair and then stood and took Amberlee's mug. He left and came back with it filled. "Come on, A," he said. He seemed to have forgotten there was a camera on. He sat on the edge of the couch and sat the coffee on the end table. "Sit up. It's Christmas. We gotta get ready to go up to Mom and Dad's."

  She sat up and Wyatt handed her the coffee. She hugged it to her chest. She sighed loudly. "I just don't want to go."

  He pushed her hair off her face. "You don't? We always go up there on Christmas."

  "Well I don't want to, this time."

  He glanced back at Blake. "I think he'd miss seeing his grandparents."

  "I don't want to go, alright!" she shouted. And then she burst into tears.

  Wyatt set her mug aside again and brought her into his arms. "It's fine. We'll stay here. But pull it together, sweetheart, please. Just for today. It's Christmas."

  "Oh, so I'm supposed to just switch off my feelings for the day so you won't be uncomfortable."

  "Of course not. But just...be with us, today. Be here."

  "And do what? You want me to bounce around the house and act all excited? I'm sorry I'm bringing you down."

  Wyatt stood, shoved his hands through his hair and paced the floor. "Jesus Christ, Amberlee! I'm fucking trying here. I don't know what you want. I don't know what to do for you."

  "Just leave me alone!"

  "Leave you alone? I'm your husband. I'm the father of your child. I love you with all my heart. I'm not supposed to leave you alone, Amberlee. And you're not supposed to run away. Fight this, baby. Whatever the fuck is wrong with you...fight it. Tell me what to do and I'll help you."

  She was sobbing into her hands. Blake had crawled off next to the tree. He was hugging a bear close to his chest and watching. He didn't seem upset. He was just observing. Wyatt's back was to him and to the camera. He sat on the edge of the couch next to Amberlee. "I know you're having a hard time. But you're missing everything."

  "It's going too fast." It was hard to make out her words with her face in her hands like that. "He's already three. I try to get enough pictures and videos, but it's going too fast."

  "We've talked about this, Amberlee. When you spend all your time trying to record everything, you forget to actually experience it."

  "I want to be able to remember it all."

  "If you don't live, then there's nothing to remember. You're not in any of these pictures and videos. You're off on the sidelines."

  She was sobbing again. "We were supposed to have more babies."

  "Shit," he muttered. He stood and moved to his recliner. He looked exhausted. "Amberlee, we've got the most perfect kid in the world. We've got a perfect family. I love our family. Why can't it be enough for you?"

  "It's just not, okay?"

  "He's not enough for you?"

  "No!" Amberlee cried.

  "I'm not enough for you?"

  "No!"

  The camera wasn't close enough to pick up on his expression. But for a long time it was silent except for Amberlee's sniffles. Blake toddled over to his mom's side. He climbed up next to her and stroked her hair. She didn't respond. Finally, Wyatt stood and picked up his son. "Let's go watch cartoons in Mommy and Daddy's room, okay?"

  Blake laid his head on Wyatt's shoulder. "Grammy's Christmas?"

  "We'll go do Grammy's Christmas in a little while." They disappeared. When Wyatt came back, he was alone. He stood over Amberlee for a long moment. Then, once again, he sat next to her on the edge of the sofa. "I think we should go to that doctor Pastor Aiden told us about."

  She looked up from her hands, then. "Therapy? You think I'm crazy?"

  "I think you're depressed and I think I've run out of ideas how to help, baby. Let's give it a try."

  "No. No way. God, Wyatt, am I really that bad? Am I really so bad you think I need to see a shrink?"

  He leaned in and kissed her. "It's Christmas morning. And you're on the couch crying instead of holding your son. Just let that sink in."

  Blake stopped the video. He backed it up to where they started. "I'm leaving it here. He needs to watch this one."

  I just stared at the now blank screen. "You were a real cutie pie, Blake."

  He snorted. "Thanks."

  I thought how sexy Wyatt had looked taking care of a baby and then a toddler. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd like to do it again someday. "Did she ever go? To the therapist?"

  "Never. I don't know what her hang up was. She refused. And truthfully, she wasn't as bad as in that video. It's just, she moped around a lot. Sometimes Dad could pull her up for a while, but she always ended up sinking back down. When she had the double mastectomy, she just gave up. She didn't care whether the cancer was gone or not. Which it turned out not to be. But she just quit on everything. And Dad tried to hold up his end and hers in the marriage."

  It was enough information for me. I would never hurt Blake. But if it weren't for him, I think I'd jump into this thing with Wyatt aggressively. Really push him to get past this. I knew he loved his wife and I was glad for him he was so happy with her. But I was going to be so freaking low maintenance compared to her, I almost wished we could be together just so I could be something light and fun in his life for a change. "Why'd they get married so young?" I asked. "I mean it almost seems like she didn't want to be married."

  "They were nineteen. Got pregnant. I'm not sure, but I get the feeling Dad was thrilled. He'd proposed to her before and she'd said no. With the pregnancy, she kind of
had to say yes, I guess."

  I watched him as he read through some of the labels on other videos. "You and your mother?"

  "Got along great. She figured out mothering pretty well. I could always talk to her. But as I get older, I almost think I've got Dad to thank for it. When I was a teenager I almost hated him. He seemed hard and cold, you know? But now I see he was just pouring everything he had into her. Which if he hadn't done that, she probably wouldn't have had the energy to be good to me."

  The phone rang from somewhere in the kitchen. Blake rose and went to answer it. I sat there thinking about Wyatt and how cruel I'd been to him earlier. How cruel he'd been to me. I wondered if he could hurt me even more. I wondered how far he would go to hang on to Amberlee.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Wyatt fled to the cemetery. He hadn't seen Amberlee in two days. During the winter he very often drove to the wooded, church cemetery. But in the Spring, he much preferred to walk. He followed the path and came out on the other side, immediately locking eyes on Amberlee's grave. The flowers from last week had wilted. He hadn't gone to get fresh ones this morning like he usually did on Saturdays. Instead, he'd spent the morning fishing, flirting, and fighting with another woman. Now it would be Monday before he could get to the florist for Amberlee's lilies.

  He sat with his back against the side of the stone like usual, reached for his whiskey bottle, and then realized he hadn't brought it. He closed his eyes and waited for the memories to come to the surface. He loved remembering the good times with Amberlee. This was often the best part of his day. There were so many good memories.

  The first to surface wasn't of Amberlee. It was of Ettie, catching her first fish last week. Her laugh and her smile...he felt he could lose himself in her.

  He opened his eyes and tried to banish her from the moment. This wasn’t his time to indulge in fantasies. It was Amberlee’s time to be honored.

  He laid his head back, closed his eyes, and tried to think of Amberlee. Of making love with Amberlee. But his vision was suddenly filled with Ettie, the way she'd been last Saturday night, naked and sweaty and riding him with all the passion she had. He remembered he'd watched her. Her long throat. Down her chest to where her breasts bounced rhythmically. Lower past her abdomen to where the small, triangle of hair between her legs mingled with his own. To where their bodies joined in slick, hot pressure.