by D. Kelly
Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I answer, “Okay.”
“Is Nathaniel his given name?”
“Yes.”
“What is the middle name going to be? Or does he have one?”
The memory of Noah and I deciding his name hits me hard.
“It’s perfect. Nathaniel, it is. What about a middle name?” I asked him.
“What if we wait to meet him for that? We can make a list and see if his personality or his looks match.”
“That’s perfect, Noah. Did we really just name our little boy?”
He chuckles at my excited squeal. “Yeah, Mel, we sure did. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Always.”
“Noah. That’s his middle name. Nathaniel Noah Weston,” I tell her without a doubt in my mind. He looks just like his daddy and should carry his name.
Everyone around me is crying, but Karen nods frantically, as if my choice is the best thing she’s ever heard.
“Okay, please look this over and we’ll get it filed.”
After reviewing the document, I sign it the best I can and she leaves. I’m so tired. Between the shower, the medicine, and the stress, all I want to do is sleep.
“Amelia, we need to talk to you about something,” Owen begins, and Sawyer maintains his protective stance next to me.
“Baby girl, we need to plan the services and would like your input,” Veronica finishes.
Services.
Plural.
My input …
“Do whatever you want, but as far as my input goes … closed to the public and a joint service. I can’t do this twice. If that’s okay with you guys, the rest of it is details I don’t need to be a part of.”
“Mel …” Karen begins, but I close my eyes and shake my head.
“No, my husband and sister are … gone. I’m sorry if it’s selfish, but I can’t wrap my head around it. I don’t need a funeral to understand. If it were up to me, there wouldn’t be one.”
My body begins to tremble as I feel the impending breakdown coming. “I’m not trying to be a bitch. I know people need closure. Make the arrangements and I’ll be there. I’m just not capable of anything else right now. I’m sorry.”
My sobbing steals my breath and my words as my body shakes uncontrollably. I’m not sure how Noah thought I was strong enough to make these decisions. I’m not. My strength came from him and now he’s gone.
“Alright, Amelia, we’ll take care of it,” Owen says, effectively ending the conversation. “Also, the nurse brought this for you.” Owen hands me a small bag.
I’m barely able to get it open, but my heart drops when I look inside. It’s the last of Noah’s effects. It’s pointless to try to stop crying at this point.
“There’s another bag with his clothes and shoes, but they’re probably not in a condition for keeping,” Karen adds softly.
I dump the contents onto the table in front of me—his wallet, his wedding ring, his eyebrow ring, and the guitar pick from Nate’s birth announcement. He carried it with him for luck. Whole lot of fucking good it did him.
“Karen, can you keep these for me until we get home?” I want to put Noah’s ring somewhere safe so Nate can have it one day.
“Of course,” she replies.
“Thank you. Now, can someone please get me a wheelchair? I need to go to the chapel.”
Mama reaches out for Nate and Sawyer gets the chair for me. After helping me into it, he pulls out his phone and texts someone.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, wondering what could be so important right now.
“Yeah, the rest of the hospital isn’t as private as where we are. They’re doing their best to keep people out, but I want Mac to clear the chapel just in case.”
Fucking fans and fucking paparazzi. My sobbing has barely subsided but I’m suddenly filled with rage.
Once we’re inside the chapel, Sawyer pushes me to the front where the candles are.
“You might want to move me away from those. I’m likely to burn this place to the ground given the chance.”
He pulls me back to the end of a pew. “Do you want to sit?”
“No, but you might want to leave for this.” If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he almost smirks at me.
“I’m not going anywhere, Mel. You do what you gotta do.” He sits on the opposite side of room and he hunches down, rubbing his face with his hands. He looks like hell and I wonder if he’s even slept.
“Mama always told Belle and me in our darkest hour we still have to find a way to get right with God. Because as much as God takes away, He’s also the one who gives. So I’m going to get real with You right now, God. You’re a motherfucking son of a bitch.”
Sawyer draws in a sharp breath, but I don’t care. My blasphemous soul can go to hell because it’s not any worse than where I am right now.
“Who the fuck do You think You are? Why am I here? You’ve taken away everything and everyone I’ve ever gotten close to!” My chest heaves and my body aches, but it feels damn good to get angry. “Every time I let love into my heart, You rip it away. You should have just taken me and put me out of my misery. Instead, You took two of the best people I’ve ever known. I don’t understand it and I won’t … not ever. What have You ever given me? A family who was ripped away one at a time? A husband to love but only for a short while? A best friend who was a sister in every way that mattered …”
My sobs are relentless; I can barely breathe. Everything in my body hurts as my anger succumbs to sadness once again. “That beautiful baby boy who looks just like his daddy but doesn’t have one anymore? What am I going to do with him? He needs Noah, asshole! He needs Noah …”
There’s no point in pleading and screaming anymore. I’m never going to be right with God after this. With my head in my hands, all my grief comes pouring out. Eventually, Sawyer picks me up and carries me back to my room, leaving the chair behind.
Karen is sitting next to the bed, with a bottle on the table beside her. She’s holding Nate and eyes me with a concerned gaze. When Sawyer puts me down, I’m still trying to catch my breath from all the crying.
“Amelia, I think it would be good for you to feed your son,” Karen says as she tries to hand me the bottle.
“I’m tired and sore. If you don’t want to do it, let the nurse do it.” I’m exhausted; the last thing I want to think about is Nate.
“I’ll do it, Mom. Why don’t you try and take a nap,” Sawyer says as he takes the seat next to her. With a hesitant glance thrown my way, she relents and gives the baby to Sawyer. My eyes are heavy and flutter closed as Sawyer takes over his brother’s job.
The next morning, after a breakfast I barely touched, I’m given extensive discharge and follow-up instructions along with quite a few prescriptions. Karen is sitting in the corner with Sawyer and Nate and everyone else is on their way to the airport.
“Sawyer, can you give me a few minutes to help get Mel dressed?”
Sawyer picks up the car seat Nate is already snuggled in, sleeping peacefully. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
I can’t move. I’m not even trying. There’s no point because there’s nowhere to go from here. “Come on, Mel, if you stand up we can get this done quickly,” Karen says, and I notice her exhaustion for the first time. She’s aged a decade in only a few short days and it’s all my fault. I try to stand for her, but it hurts everywhere.
“Why are you helping me?” I wail as I sit back on the bed, exhausted.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she replies with nothing but a mother’s pure love reflecting in her eyes. “Because you’re our daughter, and we love you. Noah would want us to help you through this.”
“But I’m not family anymore, am I? He’s gone and you’re not obligated to help me. It’s okay.”
“Amelia, you will always be our family. No matter what, that will never change. You are Noah’s wife, you are Nate’s mother,
and you are our daughter.” Her voice cracks as tears begin streaming down her cheeks. “I know you’re hurting, we all are. But listen to me when I tell you this … The only way out is through. I know you can’t see it now, but until you can find your own way out, we will guide you through.”
“Karen,” I cry, collapsing onto her shoulder, “I can’t do this without him. I can’t live without him. We should have gone together and Belle should have lived.”
“Shh,” she whispers as her fingers weave through my hair. “There’s no rhyme or reason to life, things happened the way they were supposed to. I’m going to miss Noah, for the rest of my life but he would have wanted you to live. I won’t pretend this is going to be easy. But I will be here to help you, Amelia, every step of the way.” I’m amazed at the way she’s been keeping herself together for her family, but seeing her cry makes me feel even closer to her in this moment.
She unties the hospital gown and helps me get dressed. Somehow, I will my body to move enough to put on the pajamas she brought for me and climb into the wheelchair. I’m ready to go home … the thought of which sends me into a panic.
The door opens as I look up at Karen with fear-filled eyes. “Where am I going? I don’t even have a place to live anymore. And Nate … Oh God, I don’t even know where I’m going.” As I lower my head into my hands, Sawyer sends Karen outside.
The next thing I know, he’s crouched down in front of me, pulling my hands away from my face with his own tears covering his cheeks.
“You listen to me, Amelia Weston, my house is your house. It’s our house. No one is making you go anywhere. You were Noah’s wife and what was his is now yours. Nate’s nursery is ready and waiting for him. You’re family, Princess, get used to it. We’re not letting you go anywhere.”
“Okay,” I manage to choke out through snot-filled sniffles as Sawyer passes me a box of tissues.
“Hang onto that, you’ll probably need it.”
“Thank you.”
“Sure,” he says.
“No, Sawyer, thank you for giving me a place to go.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that. Friends help friends and I need you right now as much as you need me. Without Noah … He was my everything, Mel, and you’re the only one who truly gets that.”
After a few moments of silence between us, Karen and Nurse Reynolds come inside followed by Mac.
“Are you ready, Amelia?” Nurse Reynolds asks.
Am I ready to leave the last place I ever saw my husband alive? I have no words for her so I just give her a slight nod.
“Mel, you should know there are still a lot of people outside. They’re here for you and Nate.” Sawyer’s confession doesn’t exactly surprise me and yet it does. But when we finally make it to the doors of the hospital, I’m shocked at exactly how many people are here. They’re stretched as far as the eye can see. There’s a mass memorial with candles and photos, offerings of love and support.
“I want to see that,” I tell Sawyer, pointing to the massive display of love for Noah.
“Mel, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he cautions.
“Fine. Mac, push me over there, please. Karen, can you put Nate in the car?”
Sawyer grumbles and pushes my wheelchair to the other side of the drive where the memorial is set up. When we reach the front, a hush falls over the crowd and no one moves.
As I gaze over this display of love, I’m crying before I realize it. There are photos of Noah everywhere, but not just him. Most of them are of the two of us or of our first family photo. This is their way of acknowledging our family. Because they’re still here even when he’s gone, it says so much.
Finally, I look up at Sawyer, who is also crying, and tug on his arm. “What’s going to happen to all of this stuff?”
“I guess someone will come along and toss it eventually.” That’s what I thought.
“Can you get someone to take all the bears and stuffed things up to the children’s floor? And maybe collect the flowers and send them to patients who don’t have any family here? And the photos and signs … get someone to send those to me.” He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“It’s what Noah would do, Sawyer. It’s what he’d want.” Next, I turn to Mac.
“Feel like yelling?” I ask, and a small smirk picks up on the corner of his mouth.
“For you, anytime.”
“Tell them thank you, that Noah would have loved their kindness, and to honor that we’re going to give the flowers and toys to people inside the hospital but that all their notes, photos, and signs will be sent to me. And tell them …”
I’m not sure about this next part, I’ll do it but for Belle.
“Tell them I’ll update the Slammed blog when I’m feeling up to it with a proper thank you of my own.”
I’m continuously wiping my tears away as Sawyer turns us around to face the crowd. They listen to Mac’s words with rapacious attention. Most of them are crying just like us, and for one of the first times ever, I feel for them. They’re suffering Noah’s loss in their own way. Just because they didn’t know him doesn’t mean they didn’t love him.
I don’t miss the few reporters in the crowd, or the flashing of their cameras, but there’s really no story here anymore. We’re just a family grieving; they’ll go away eventually.
Once we’re at the car, Sawyer and Mac help me into the back seat where Nate is positioned in the middle between Karen and me. He’s sleeping contentedly as if nothing is amiss, and I guess, in a way, for him it isn’t. This is the only reality he will ever know. That thought alone sends my emotions into overdrive once again.
“Are Noah and Belle back home already?” I ask to anyone who will give me an answer.
“Sweetheart, they’re flying back with us. The funeral home is meeting us there.” With her words, my grief again bubbles to the surface. I’m still crying thirty minutes later when we reach our destination. Mac carries me onto the plane. I don’t argue because I’m not sure I could have even made it up the steps. As Mac carries me to the far end of the plane, I’m overcome by the sadness shrouding all of their faces. Sawyer boards with Nate and straps him in between Karen and Owen. I’m glad; he’s probably a comfort to them and right now he’s an extra burden for me to deal with. Sawyer straps in next to me and then helps me with my seatbelt. As the plane takes off, my one good hand grips the arm rest and Sawyer peels my fingers off and holds my hand. He knows how scared I am to fly, but he doesn’t release me when we level off in the sky. His head falls back onto his seat and his eyes are closed. Within minutes, he’s asleep. If him holding onto me allows him some rest, I’ll give it to him because I’m going to need his help over the next few weeks.
Everything Has Changed
As we all walk into the house, I don’t know what to do. I feel Noah everywhere and just stand in the foyer like a lost puppy.
“Come on, Mel, why don’t I help you get settled in bed. You need your rest.” Eli’s kind words wash over me as I follow behind him. When we reach my room, it’s just as we left it after the Fourth of July, and it’s suddenly too much.
Noah’s shirt is tossed haphazardly onto the bed. Without thinking, I lift it to my face and inhale his scent. As I collapse onto the bed, I burst into tears once again.
Eli pulls me into his embrace. “Let it all out, baby girl. I’m here for you for as long as you need.”
My eyes dart around the room, taking in all our memories. Noah had so many of our photos framed and put on the wall, the dressers, and the bedside table. Everything about this room screams “us.” But “us” is no longer a thing.
“I don’t want to be here, Eli. Why didn’t I die, too?” I sob, clutching onto his shirt.
“It wasn’t your time, Mel. If you had died, Nate would have, too. He’s the reward of your love. Someday, when you’ve gotten past your grief, you’re going to be thankful beyond words to have him with you.”
“I
love him, but I’ll ruin him. I don’t know how to be his mom.”
Eli brushes my tears away. “The same way you loved Noah … with your whole heart. You’ll learn the rest as you go, and I’m here as long as you need me.”
“Thanks, Eli, but I think I need some time alone. Can you make sure someone is taking care of the baby, please?”
“Sure thing. I’ll check back in a little bit. Try and rest.”
He closes the door behind him and I walk to the dresser and pick up a framed wedding photo. Noah’s eyes were dancing with happiness and mine were filled with love. We were blinded by it and I’d never been happier. There’s a package next to it, and my stomach plummets as soon as I see the return address.
Taking the box with trembling hands, I sit on the edge of the bed. When I finally manage to get it open and pull out the album inside, my body slides to the floor. Noah and I were so excited about our maternity photo shoot. We haven’t seen these yet, not even online proofs—the photographer was old school and preferred the element of surprise. I’ve only turned one page in the album, but the guttural wails falling from my lips are far louder than my previous sobs.
Within seconds, Sawyer is at my side. When he sees what I’m looking at, he drops to the floor next to me.
“Noah would have loved these.”
His words hit straight to my heart. “Why is this happening, Sawyer? Why did we lose them? I’m so lost over Noah I haven’t even begun to process losing Belle. And these pictures are everything we dreamed of but now they’re literally just memories.”
He rubs his eyes with his hands like I’ve seen him do so many times over the past few days. “I don’t know, Mel. I don’t have any answers for you. I thought after what I went through as a kid I’d been through a lifetime of heartache. But this … it hurts so much more.”
The two of us sit, drowning in our tears and grief as I numbly thumb through the pages of this album. They’re everything Noah and I wished for when we had them taken. More than anything, I wish we could go back to that day. I want to be in the moment again where Noah is kneeling in front of me, kissing my belly, while he looks up at me adoringly. Nate’s name was carved in the sand in front of us. It took Noah over an hour before he considered it photo-worthy. I just want to hear Noah tell us how much he loves us, one more time …