Between Before and After

by Dick, Amanda

  “Katie, you’re talking in riddles. Slow down, okay? What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that if you believe in fate or destiny – serendipity, whatever you call it – it’s like saying you’re giving up. You may as well say that you have no control over your life and let someone else make your choices for you. As far as I can tell, life’s about fighting. You fight for what you want and for what you think you want – it doesn’t matter, as long as you don’t do what Danny did. He gave up. He gave up on everyone and everything, including me.”

  She inhaled sharply, feeling slightly nauseous after finally saying it aloud. Then she exhaled, long and low.

  “I kind of hate him for that.” It was the first time she had ever said that aloud, too.

  “I kind of do, too.”

  She stretched out and crawled towards him, turning and leaning back against the bed. She let her head fall back and closed her eyes.

  “Do you hate Finn, too?” she asked.

  She heard him fall back onto the bed, sighing. When it became clear he wasn’t going to answer, she opened her eyes and turned towards him.

  “I mean, if he hadn’t just got up and left, he’d have been there when you got to the house. He’d have stopped you from going in.”

  He was in profile, staring up at the ceiling. Even in the dark, she could see the turmoil he was going through.

  “I don’t know if trying to second-guess everything will help,” he said. “It’s done – over. And like you said, you just have to try and get on with it.”

  Silence surrounded them once more.

  “Were you really going to use that gun, Max?”

  He sniffed, taking his time to reply. “I don’t know. I just know that I want it to stop.”

  “The nightmares?”

  “Yeah. The nightmares, and feeling like I’ve let him down, somehow.”

  “You didn’t let him down,” she said gently.

  “I didn’t save him, either.”

  “Neither did Finn – and he was there when it happened.”

  “Fuck.” He exhaled deeply. “I thought I had it bad. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like to see him do it.”

  “I should go in and talk to her,” Finn stared at the steaming mug of coffee Lacey had just put on the table in front of him. “Fuck it, I need to talk to both of them. Max must hate me. I can’t blame him – I hate me.”

  He stared out through the window as the moonlight lit up the bay. He should never have told them. He should have taken it his grave.

  “Go easy on yourself – no one hates you. It’s just a lot of information to process,” Gavin said, sighing as he leant back in his chair.

  They sat around the dining table, rather than in the living room.

  “I don’t think he hates you,” Lacey said confidently.

  Finn frowned at her sceptically.

  “I’m serious. It’s a shock, that’s all – to all of us, actually. Put yourself in our shoes. We’ve spent the past three years trying to work this thing out – figure out what happened and where it all went wrong – and now you come up with this little gem?” She raised her eyebrows, shrugging.

  “It doesn’t change anything,” he insisted. “We still don’t know what happened. If I knew something about that, don’t you think I’d have told you by now?”

  “I know, I know,” she soothed, reaching over to squeeze his arm. “I’m not accusing you of anything.”

  “You’re right,” Gavin said, leaning forward again. “It doesn’t really change what happened. I just wish you’d told us sooner, that’s all. How the hell have you been carrying this around with you all this time? Especially with Max going through the shit he’s been going through.”

  Finn rested his elbow on the table and his head in his hand. It was a question he had asked himself many times over the past three years. “I wanted to, but every time I thought about it, I couldn’t justify it. It’d make me feel better, but what would it do to him?”

  Lacey squeezed his arm again then let go, wrapping both her hands around the coffee mug in front of her. He watched absentmindedly as she took a sip.

  “Did Kelly know about this?” Gavin asked.

  “Are you crazy?”

  “So you didn’t tell her?”

  “Why would I? She didn’t even know Danny.”

  “No, but she might have been able to help you deal with it,” Lacey added.

  Finn stared at the dining table. It was pitted with thousands of small hammer blows. Danny’s grandfather had made it, back when the house was built. He had made the table and all the chairs with his own two hands, in a rustic fashion that suited the house. Finn ran his fingertip absentmindedly over one of the hollows.

  “I don’t think she would’ve. In any case, it’s over now. She’s gone.”

  He had tried so hard to keep anything to do with Danny’s death from Kelly. He unconsciously – or maybe even consciously – wanted to distance himself from the event itself in case she had guessed at his secret. His greatest shame was hidden from everyone, including her. He didn’t need her judgment on top of his own.

  “Do you have nightmares, like Max does?” Gavin asked.

  Finn sat up again, rolling his shoulders. The recurring nightmare he had been having off and on for years came flooding back. Why couldn’t Danny hear him screaming? He pounded on the window, trying to get his attention, trying to break the glass, but Danny just stared at him, shaking his head. And then he pulled the trigger. Waking up in a cold sweat, he had been careful to tell Kelly it was something completely different. Otherwise, he would have had to tell her that he was there that day, that he had seen Danny do it. He wasn’t prepared to do that.

  “Sometimes.”

  He looked over towards the door leading through into the hallway. There was no yelling and no crying coming from her room. He almost wished there had been. The silence was worse.

  Kate’s heart ached. It was like living through the nightmare all over again, only with this terrifying new twist, she was now seeing it through different eyes. She leaned back against the bed.

  “I’m such an idiot,” Max said. “All this time, he’s been trying to get me to talk about what I saw that day, and I’m acting like I’m some kind of hero, keeping it to myself because I had some stupid-arsed idea that I was protecting him from it.”

  “He was trying to help you. We all were.” She closed her eyes and let her head fall back onto the bed. After all the upheaval and the interrupted sleep and the early morning and all this new information, she was exhausted.

  “It feels like everything’s turned to shit again, doesn’t it?”

  He didn’t reply and she didn’t blame him. Another stupid question that didn’t deserve an answer.

  “Are you pissed off at him?” he asked a few minutes later, just as the voices in her head were getting around to asking that very same thing.

  “I’m not sure. God, I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for him, to see that, but why didn’t he go inside? Why’d he just get up and leave him there?”

  “I don’t blame him for that,” Max said.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean – I mean, I know that if he had, you wouldn’t have – well, you know what I’m saying.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  God, she felt so sick. Just thinking of Danny and everything that happened that day was enough to take her back there. She had survived it once. She wasn’t sure if she could do it again.

  “I would’ve understood if he’d told me. I would’ve tried to help him with it – I think we all would’ve. But knowing he lied to me really hurts. Danny did that, too. I don’t want a relationship like that again. I want to be honest with him and I want to know he’s being honest with me.”

  “Sounds to me like he was trying to spare us. Also sounds like he somehow blamed himself for what happened. I know what that’s like. I’ve been on that particular rollercoaster for three years. Fucking sucks.”

 
; Kate wanted to cry but it felt like a waste of time. What good would it do?

  “What if he hadn’t handled this as well?” she asked into the darkness. “What if he was the one carrying a gun around in his car, Max? I’d have been none the wiser. It would’ve been like it was happening all over again.”

  “That’s a lot of what ifs.”

  She stared out the window at the moon.

  “I’m so tired,” he mumbled.

  “Me too.”

  As soon as she spoke the words aloud, her body stopped fighting it. Every movement was a struggle. She forced herself to get off the floor and crawled up onto the bed next to him. Lying beside him, she stared up at the ceiling.

  “Tell me what you dream about,” she said, afraid to look at him.

  Her heart pumped faster as she waited. He breathed steadily beside her and it seemed like she waited an eternity before he finally spoke. When he did, his voice was little more than a whisper.

  “I dream that I’m back there, that day. That I’m seeing it all over again.”

  She turned to watch his profile in the moonlight.

  “I dream that my hands are covered in blood and it doesn’t matter how hard I scrub, it won’t wash off.”

  She reached for his hand and laced her fingers through his.

  “Sometimes, I dream that I’m standing in the room when he pulls the trigger.”

  Her heart raced as tears gathered in her eyes.

  “Sometimes, he says it’s my fault.”

  She leaned her head against his shoulder, releasing his hand to curl her arm over his chest. She wondered if he could feel her heart breaking just as clearly as she could hear his beating.

  “It’s not. You can let it go now,” she whispered. “Just let it go, Max.”

  She could feel his breathing slow and her body relaxed into his. She closed her eyes. Shutting off the moonlight, her exhausted brain slowed, giving in to the weariness that had settled into her bones and muscles, working away at them, numbing them, soothing them. Before long, the warm glow of sleep surrounded her, pulling her under.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Kate wasn’t sure what woke her. She opened her eyes and, for a moment, she couldn’t remember where she was. She was curled up beside someone. There was an arm around her. Her heart raced. Slowly, she turned her head to the side. Seeing Max brought everything flooding back and she breathed a heavy sigh. The dream she had woken up from made things even more confusing.

  In it, Finn had been with her. They had been trying to get into her house. She had forgotten her keys and Danny wasn’t answering his cellphone. They had tried everything to get inside, but it was fruitless. In the end, they had just sat on the front doorstep and talked, waiting for Danny to come home. It was sunny. She remembered the warmth as they sat there, side by side. She remembered how easy it was to talk to him.

  Max seemed to be sleeping peacefully. She wondered if finally talking about what happened had helped with the nightmares, but it was too soon to tell. She knew it would take more. He needed help – professional help. She would make sure he got it, too. She wasn’t losing him the same way she lost Danny.

  She studied him while he slept. His face was devoid of the usual worry lines, smoothed out by the blessed oblivion of sleep. She closed her eyes and tried to join him there, but her brain would not switch off long enough to let her fall.

  She opened her eyes again. It was still dark out. She had no idea what time it was or how long she had been asleep. The house was cloaked in silence. She had two choices: she could lie there till morning, or she could get up, maybe make a cup of tea or something – try to wind down enough to go back to sleep. She chose option two.

  Carefully, she slipped out of Max’s embrace. He groaned, rolling over. She waited patiently for a few moments, but he didn’t stir again. She turned and tip-toed towards the door. The moonlight cast shadows over the walls and she used the light to make her way out to the living room, closing the door gently behind her so she wouldn’t disturb anyone else.

  She made her way over to the table lamp in the corner of the living room and switched it on. A warm, golden light filled the room, and she squinted in the suddenly bright room. She set about making herself a cup of sweet tea, yawning. She was clearly tired if the yawn was any indication, so why the hell couldn’t she sleep? She glanced at her watch. It was going on four o’clock.

  Ridiculous.

  She picked up her mug of tea. Passing the breakfast bar, she caught sight of the guest book that belonged to Danny’s parents. She paused for a moment, then picked it up and took it with her to the sofa.

  She sat, sipping her tea, and flipping through the guest book, her legs tucked underneath her. What she needed was a distraction. The guest book did the trick, perhaps a little too well.

  November 2008

  Having a great time, wish you were here! Kidding. Love ya Ma, but Lacey makes a better roast lamb!

  - Danny

  Ignore him, Nina – I used your recipe haha! Thank you both again for letting us stay. Paradise!

  - Lacey x

  July 2009

  Thanks so much for letting us spend our anniversary here – even the weather has been perfect!

  - Kate xx

  Thanks for the champers – Katie got trolleyed – magic! Love you guys.

  - Danny

  December 2009

  Merry Christmas! It’s not the same without you! Hope you’re having fun with Kate’s Mum and Dad. Our turn to have you both to ourselves next year!

  - Mum & Dad x

  February 2010

  Fish are biting, Lacey is cooking and I won the annual kayak race. Doesn’t get much better than that!

  - Finn

  Dude, you CHEATED!

  - Danny

  February 2012

  Thanks so much, for everything. It feels good to be together, honouring Danny’s memory – especially here. We miss you but we understand why you couldn’t be here. See you soon.

  - Kate xx

  The memories overwhelmed her, bringing her to tears. So many good times here. Is that what it came down to – a list of dates, names, occasions? Is that how a life was measured? Maybe she was looking at it all wrong – perhaps it wasn’t a list after all, but snapshots, moments in time, captured with those you loved. Captured was the important thing – taken, grabbed, held tight, closeted in your heart and your soul, where they could never be stolen away.

  She heard the door open and she looked up, quickly blinking away the tears. Finn stood in the doorway, squinting in the light.

  “I thought I heard something,” he said. “It’s four o’clock. What are you doing up?”

  She shrugged, wiping a hand under her nose. “Couldn’t sleep.”

  He stood motionless for a few moments, watching her, evaluating the situation no doubt. She didn’t know whether to encourage him to come in or go back to bed. Did she want to talk to him? Did she know what she wanted to say yet? In the end, he made up his own mind, turning to close the door behind him.

  He looked so unsure of himself, a wave of compassion washed over her. Even though he had made the decision to stay, he seemed torn. He stood there, in his boxers and a t-shirt, and waited. He was waiting for her, she realised. He was waiting for a sign, something that told him it was alright.

  “I think we need to talk.” she said carefully, putting her cup of tea down on the coffee table in front of her.

  He hesitated. She didn’t blame him. Her stomach had been in knots all night, but now the knots began to slowly unfurl. When he finally made his way across the room to her, she knew what she needed to say to him. The fog had lifted, the way forward became a little clearer.

  Captured. With those you loved.

  He sank nervously into the armchair opposite her, looking every inch the frightened child about to be chastised. Her heart went out to him, but she knew she needed to rein in her sympathy just long enough to talk to him. There were things she needed to say, a
nd things she needed to know.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, interrupting her train of thought.

  She closed the guest book that rested on her lap and set it aside, as he followed her every move.

  “I know what I did was wrong, but it felt like the right thing to do at the time,” he pleaded, mistaking her silence for anger. “It wasn’t until afterwards that I realised I fucked everything up. You, Max – all of it. I’m sorry I lied.” His shoulders sagged as he leant forward in the armchair. “But I just need you to know that I never meant to hurt anyone – especially not you. It just happened. I was trying to shield you from all of this – and Max. I didn’t know that he… I wouldn’t have done it otherwise.”

  He seemed to sink further and further inside himself and her heart ached for him and everything he must have seen, both the day Danny died and every day since. Living with guilt could tear you apart. She knew that from experience. Whether real or imagined, it didn’t seem to matter. A grieving heart didn’t distinguish between the two, it just searched for someone, anyone, to blame. It was relentless and it was non-discriminate. She longed to reach out for him, to tell him that, but not yet. If she didn’t say this now, she never would, and it had to be said. If Danny’s death had taught her anything, it was that tomorrow was not guaranteed.

  She recalled what he had said last night, what he had seen that day, and her heart seized. Her Danny – her wild, beautiful, maddeningly untidy, sensitive Danny – standing with a gun to his head, in the corner of their living room. And Finn had seen it all.

  His first instinct hadn’t been to help, it had been to run. She needed to know why. Her heart screamed the question, but it came out as more of a whisper, lingering in the empty space between them.

  “Why didn’t you go inside? Why didn’t you see if you could help him?”