Love After Pain

by Torrie Robles

  “That’s great, doctor. Thank you.” I help Kate up from the table.

  “Have you picked out the names yet?”

  “Yes,” Kate’s green eyes glance at me. “We’ve decided on Brody David.”

  “Brody David McAllister. That’s a strong name. A name of a man who will do great things, I’m sure.”

  “Yes, I agree.” I know my son will do great things.

  “I want to see you again in two weeks. I know when you were pregnant with Clare you were over a week late, but each child is different. Her being overdue doesn’t mean her brother isn’t going to be on time, or even early.”

  “Thank you.” I hold Kate’s hand while we leave the doctor’s office.

  “Where do you want to eat, sweetheart?” It’s become our tradition that she gets to eat wherever she wants after each doctor’s appointment. We’ve been doing this since she found out she was pregnant with Clare.

  “I want a big greasy burger. Let’s go over to the diner, you know how I love Lou’s burgers.”

  “Alright,” I agree.

  I get her comfortable in the car and help her stretch the seatbelt over her belly. “Remember with Clare, the belt wouldn’t stretch far enough. We had to get the belt extension.”

  “Yes, I remember. You’re doing well this time around though.”

  “Because I was mortified that my body could get that huge. I promised myself if we ever did this again then I would take better care of myself, exercise, eat better. Well, with the exception of Lou’s burgers. A girl’s got to have a cheat day every once in a while.”

  “You’ve done so great, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks, honey.”

  I take in her smile, it’s always been so contagious. Probably the main reason why I fell for her. Her green eyes glisten in the sun, pools of emerald treasures. Her freckled covered nose turns up slightly at the end. Today she has gone casual, throwing her chestnut tresses up in a high ponytail. She looks so sweet and innocent. You would never know she was a mean prosecutor. I think her looks have always been her secret weapon. When you go up against such a beauty you would expect her to toddle about the courtroom in her stilettos twirling her hair on her finger. Not my wife, she is a pit bull once she gets in front of any judge or jury. She may be beautiful, but she has one hell of a bite. “So you’re okay with Brody?”

  “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Are you sure you don’t want a junior? We can switch his name to David Gideon McAllister II.”

  “I don’t want my son to have to deal with the middle name of Gideon any more than I have to.”

  “Why not?” I just look at her. “When your mother named you, she used Gideon because it means God’s Warrior. She didn’t know thirty some odd years later Gideon would be a commonly used name to describe a popular book boyfriend whose yummy hotness is desired by millions of sex starved housewives who tend to live out their fantasies in the form of literature. Besides, honey, Gideon Cross ain’t got nothin’ on you.”

  “You do realize you scrunch your nose when you lie, right?”

  “I do not.”

  “Be it as it may, I don’t want my son to have to deal with anything that I had to deal with. Brody David is just fine by me.”

  “How did I get so lucky?” She looks at me with love and laughter in her eyes.

  “I think it’s me who got lucky. It was me who—”

  *

  I’m brought back to the present by Dr. Bernstein’s question. “That was when you and your wife were hit?”

  “Yes. Apparently the driver of the semi went into cardiac arrest and he lost consciousness. He ran two stop lights and we were the only ones he hit. I was turning onto the road he was barreling down. If I was a few seconds faster he may have missed us all together. If I were slower my wife may still be alive. But it didn’t happen that way, he hit my wife’s side.” I say the words matter-of-factly, no emotion in my voice.

  “What happened after he hit you?” She’s tapping away on that damn tablet again.

  “I’m sure I could get you the police report if you want to know the details.”

  “I want to hear the details from you, David. That’s the point of therapy, talking it out. Working through the issues at hand.”

  “I was unconscious for a short time. I heard people screaming around us. My wife must have hit her head because she was slumped back in her seat with blood dripping down from her hair into her face. It was pooling in the crevice of her eye and her nose. The door had concaved; pushing up against her side, against her stomach, our son.”

  *

  “Kate, Kate baby, wake up. Kate, sweetheart, you have to wake up.” I shake her, am I supposed to shake her? Can I move her? “Kate, please baby, please wake up.” I feel her throat for a pulse. I feel it, I feel the rhythm, the beating of my wife’s heart. I place my hand on her stomach, the stomach that holds our son. Our baby. I feel around trying to see if I can feel Brody move. Her belly is hard, much harder that I have ever felt it.

  I hear voices coming from outside, yelling and asking if we’re okay. They’re shouting that help is on the way. They ask me if my wife is okay, if she’s alive. I shout back to them that yes, I think she’s alive. “David.” Kate’s voice is but a whisper. “David.” she says it again. “I can’t see, I can’t see.” She’s trying to focus her eyes, while the blood continues to run down her forehead.

  “Shh, baby. You have blood in your eyes. It’s okay, baby, you’re going to be okay.”

  “Arrgh!” she screams. “The baby, David, oh my God, it hurts. I think he’s coming. The baby, arrgh, he’s coming.” I can hear the panic in her voice.

  “Hang in there, Kate, sweetheart, please hang on. Help is on the way.” I quickly wipe the blood from her eyes with my hands. It isn’t helping, nothing is helping. I see the flashing lights from the fire truck approaching the intersection.

  They can’t open her door.

  “It hurts so much.” Her tears mingle with her blood as they roll down my wife’s face. The firemen arrive and they are trying like Hell to open her door. Before I know it, I’m taken from the car; ripped from her side.

  “My wife, she’s pregnant. She’s eight months pregnant!” I’m hysterical, trying to climb back in the car to get to her.

  “We’ll take care of her, sir. You need to let us take care of it.”

  *

  “Did they take care of it?”

  “What kind of question is that? Did they take care of it?”

  “Did the paramedics, the firemen and whomever else that was on the scene, take care of your wife?”

  “Yes, they got her out of the car and transported to the hospital.”

  “And then what happened?”

  “She died.”

  3

  David

  “How are you doing, son?” My mother walks into the den with two glasses of tea. I’m not thirsty, but I won’t tell her that.

  I look into the pack-n-play my son has been sleeping in for the past three months. “I’m good. Just letting Brody take his afternoon nap.”

  “You know that I love you, David.” Okay, here comes the lecture. I nod, keeping my eyes on my sleeping son. “It’s been three months. Have you had any thoughts about what you’re going to do? Have you spoken with the firm about your plans on returning to work?”

  “It’s only been three months, Mom.” I take a deep breath, “I’m not sure what I plan on doing yet.”

  “Alright, but have you thought about going back to your house yet? Getting Clare back into her room, with all her toys? That may be good for her. Having you sleep in your own bed and not the bed you slept in as a teenager may be good for you too.”

  “I highly doubt sleeping in a bed that I shared with my dead wife is going to do me any good.”

  “But what about just going to your house. It’s your home.”

  “You always said this was my home. Is it not any longer?”

  “It w
ill always be your home, David, that’s not what I meant.”

  I let out a weary sigh and drag a hand down my face. “I know, Mom. Sorry.”

  “It’s alright, honey I understand. But what about Clare?”

  “I’m not sure what’s good for her anymore.”

  “David—”

  “No, I take that back, her mother is what’s good for her, but that’s not possible. Isn’t that what you keep telling me? Having Kate back isn’t possible.” I look at her as her face pales.

  Before she can answer me, I hear the slam of the front door, causing Brody to wake from his nap. “Shoot, sorry,” my sister calls out as she enters the den. “The door got away from me. It’s windy outside.” I watch my son drift off back to sleep.

  “Hello, darling.” My mother acknowledges her.

  “Hi, Mom, David.”

  “Hi, Dessie,”

  “What are you guys doing? I’m sure Brody can sleep without being watched over by two mothering hens.” I cut my eyes to her, making her aware that I don’t appreciate her ‘mothering’ comment.

  “Come on, you two.” Mom stands, “I’ll cut you a slice of the pie I bought this morning.”

  Destiny and I follow mom into the kitchen. She’s right, as much as I don’t want to admit it. I would much rather be sleeping in my king size bed in my own home. I would like to have Clare sleeping in her own bed, in her own room rather than sleeping in my sister’s old room. Logically, I know that mom is right about trying to move on with my life. I need to move on, I need to live again and take care of my children. I just don’t know if I want to. I don’t know if I can do it if it’s just me. Clare, Brody and I, we’re now a family of three. I guess we’ve always been a family of three, but it was Kate, Clare and I. Since we have lost Kate, my kids no longer have the option, no, the gift of having their mother look after them. They will no longer have the option of a family of four.

  Maybe it’s just the fact that I’m a single father now of a seven year-old and a three month-old that I’m afraid to move on. Maybe I’m afraid of a future where I can actually survive without Kate. That I can go on with my career, be a father without hearing her daily words of encouragement. Before Kate, I knew who I was, what I wanted. Everything changed after I met her. It didn’t matter what or who I thought I was. I was nothing before I met her. I was just a man. After Kate, I was so much more and I liked who I became. I always thought I was a better man because of her. And I was right. What if I am able to be that man even though she’s no longer here? Would that possibility lessen the importance that she had on my life? Thinking of a future without her caused me more pain than I could bear.

  “How are things with work, Des?” I ask her as we sit as the kitchen table.

  “Everything is good, great even.”

  “Good.”

  “How are you doing?”

  “Are you asking as my sister or are you asking as a shrink?” I raise my eyebrows.

  “I’m asking as your sister, Davie. I’m always your sister first.”

  “Then I’m doing as well as can be expected I guess. Living life, going through the motions.”

  “I was just talking with David about when he plans on going back to the house, getting the kids settled.”

  “Do you not want us here anymore, Mom? Is that why you’re pushing the issue?”

  “Of course not. Your father and I will always want you here.”

  “What do we want?” My father comes into the kitchen from the garage.

  “I was just telling your son that he and the kids are always welcome here and they can stay as long as they need. That’s never an issue.”

  “Let him be, Faith, he knows what’s good for him.”

  “I’m not saying he doesn’t, Carl.”

  “Dad, David does need to get his bearings on everything. He needs to get Clare back home with her own things and to create a schedule for her. She needs structure, a routine and she needs to know she’s safe. Not to mention Brody. Every day he gets bigger and every day he needs more and more structure. Just like Clare, he needs to learn his routine. You and Mom aren’t always going to be here and he’s going to have to do by himself. Going back to work would be beneficial for him and the kids.”

  “You know, I’m is sitting right here.” I say as I shove a piece of apple pie in my mouth. They’re talking like I’m a child. “I know what I need to do. I just lack the motivation to do it.”

  “David, please don’t talk with your mouth full.” Faith is always the mother.

  “Your children should be motivation enough, don’t you think?” Destiny quirks her eyebrow at me.

  “He knows, Destiny.” My dad gives her a look telling her to drop it.

  “Alright.” she nods. “So, I was thinking about going out tonight,” Des tells me. “Have a drink or two. A girlfriend from work and I have been meaning to have a night out. A chance to blow off some steam. Would you like to go?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “David, go out. Your father and I will watch the kids. Go out with your sister.”

  “I promise we won’t be out that late.” Des looks hopeful.

  “Alright fine. I’ll go.” Anything to get them all to stop harping on me.

  4

  David

  I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be out living life while my wife is buried in the cold, hard ground. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. We should be here together. Of course if Kate were still alive we would probably be at home, sitting on the couch with the kids, watching one of Clare’s favorite movies. She wouldn’t want to be here having drinks just months after having Brody. She would want to be at home with her family. Just like I should be.

  I told Destiny I would meet her here. I didn’t want to rely on her for a ride. I wasn’t sure what her plans were, but I would be damned if I had to stay just so she could hit on every good-looking man that glanced her way. I love my sister, and it shocks the hell out of me that she is so good when it comes to the minds of children, but she has not one clue when it comes to the minds of males. Her lack of a serious relationship is a prime example of that.

  As her brother, I will always think that Destiny’s a catch. She is just mere inches shorter than my 6’ 4” frame. Her blonde hair is thick and pin straight, I think that’s how she describes it. I’ve lived my life listening to her complain on the lack of flow her hair has, whatever the fuck that means. Flecks of gold, and green make up her eyes, unlike mine, which are blue. Thank you, mother. She’s not only a beauty but she’s got brains as well. Graduating at top of her class, she’s the best up-and-coming child psychiatrist the Bay Area has seen in years. She and I are only ten months apart. Being so close in age, we were quite frequently mistaken as twins. I know her inside and out. Her beauty has nothing to do with what’s on the outside. It has to do with how genuine her heart is—and yet she somehow always falls for the losers that cross her path.

  “Ahh, brother, you shaved.” She gives me a hug.

  “I did.” I rub my hand against my now bare chin. “I figured tonight is as good a night as any. Plus, I think it was time that my face breathed a little.”

  “It looks good on you.”

  We order our drinks at the bar and take a seat at one of the high top booths near the dance floor. I have no idea why at the age of thirty-eight, I thought it would be a good idea to be caught dead in a dance club. A place where women wear next to nothing, rubbing their bodies over men they don’t even know. I’m not twenty anymore for fucks sake. I’m a father of two, a widower, and here I am mingling with sophomores in college. “Where’s your friend? Or was that just an excuse to get me out of the house?”

  “It’s not an excuse, Davie. Olivia will be here shortly.”

  “Olivia?”

  “Yes, Olivia.”

  “Listen, Des, I don’t have to be here. I understand that you want me to get out, that you want me to live my life, but I don’t need to be here tagging along on your girls
night out. We can do this another time.”

  “Nonsense. I want you here. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

  “I don’t want to be witness to you making an ass out of yourself with any random loser that stumbles your way. I’m not up for it.”

  “Well, I love you too, big brother. If you must know, I’ve been out on three successful dates with the same guy over the past two weeks. My time stumbling over losers is over. I think I found the one, finally.”

  “Wow, good for you. Why haven’t you told me?”

  “Well, do you really want to hear about my love life when the love of your life just passed away?” I wince at the mention of Kate.

  “Good point.”

  “I didn’t want to rub anything in your face, you know? This isn’t about me right now. It’s about you. I just want my big brother back.”

  “I’m right here.”

  “Yes, but you’re so angry. I don’t like the angry David.”

  “I have every right to be angry, Des, you know that.”

  “I know you have the right to be angry. But you need to try to move past the anger. There are other steps that you can take so you can get your life back.”

  “Okay, Dr. McAllister. I don’t need to be educated on the steps of grief. I know full well what I should be doing.”

  “Do you?” I don’t need to give my sister an answer. “Alright, alright. I’m not going to push anymore. I’ve said my piece and the rest is up to you.”

  “Thank you.” I tip my glass of scotch in her direction then take another gulp. If I don’t slow down I may not be able to walk out of here.

  “Ah, there she is.”

  I watch my sister wave over a blonde. Not really blonde she’s more of a honey brown, her hair is like spun gold. The closer she gets, I realize she isn’t getting any taller. She’s a little thing, barely five foot. My sister towers over her even when she bends down to give her a hug. It’s like she can fit in the palm of my hand. If Clare keeps growing like she is, she may pass her up within the next two years. “Olivia, this is my brother, David. David, this is my friend, Olivia.”