By the time the plane landed, my stomach was in knots, and I mostly lagged behind while Payne gathered our luggage and found us our waiting rental car.
When we were settled, our bags thrown into the back of a midsized sedan, Payne turned to me and drew me into a kiss I hadn’t realized I needed until I felt his lips, wonderful and warm against mine. My arms went around his neck.
“I love you, Jamie.” He whispered against my lips, and I smiled, allowing the warmth of his nearness to seep into me, providing comfort, reassurance, the support I needed. I wished we could stay as we were, secure in one another’s arms, but that wasn’t an option. Reality couldn’t be escaped. My mother was waiting, and with a final kiss, we were on our way, save for a quick stop at an all-night fast food place that offered coffee that tasted more like paint thinner and a chicken sandwich that failed at being remotely chicken flavored. I forced myself to eat half of it anyway, because I knew Payne was worried about me.
The food settling uneasily, I managed to drift off to sleep, half stretched across the seat so my head could rest comfortably on Payne’s shoulder.
When I awakened, we were pulling into the driveway of my mom’s house, and for a moment, I felt disoriented, but why we were there came back in a rush. “What time is it?” I rubbed tiredly at my eyes and worked the knots from my shoulders and back. Payne glanced at his watch with eyes that looked as tired as mine still felt.
“Just after seven.” He raked a hand through his tangled black hair, and I sighed.
“You should get some rest once we get settled.” I reached for his hand, needing the contact. “You’ve been so amazing, and I… I love you, and I am so grateful for how strong you’ve been. But I know both Matt and Ava were special to you, too. I haven’t forgotten that. And I can be here for you, as much as you are for me, baby.” I lifted his hand to my lips and kissed it. Payne always wanted to protect me, but I was just as determined to offer him the same comfort, the same compassion and understanding. He smiled, leaning in to kiss me, and I pulled him close. God, I didn’t want to let go. But after a moment, we pulled apart, and as we got out of the car, the door opened, and my mom came to stand on the front porch.
Quietly, I went to her. She started crying as I took her in my arms, and she sobbed against my shoulder. Without realizing it, I cried with her.
“Jamie…,” she whispered in a broken voice.
I looked at Payne, no doubt with desperate eyes, because this was simply agonizing. My sister and her husband were dead, and my mother was falling apart in my arms, and there wasn’t anything I could do or say to make it right. This was a living nightmare. Ava was gone. Matt was gone. And we somehow had to pick up the pieces, make arrangements, stand strong in our grief, and support others. I felt more than a little overwhelmed, standing there, holding my mother, and when Payne’s arms wrapped around both of us, I looked at him again. He pressed his lips to my forehead, and some of the tension drained from me.
After a few tearful moments, we guided my mother back into the house, into the kitchen, where I was surprised to see Nora Sutherland, the next door neighbor, sorting through food people had already delivered, likely the night before.
“Hello, boys.” She kissed me on the cheek as I helped my mother sit down, and Payne slipped back outside to retrieve our bags from the car. “Aubrey’s upstairs, sound asleep like a little angel,” Nora explained, setting a cup of coffee in front of me. I thanked her before turning my attention to my mother, who brushed at her eyes, which were red rimmed from endless tears and likely exhaustion.
“The driver was drunk, Jamie.” Her voice was little more than a gravelly whisper. “At three o’clock in the afternoon, he was drunk, and he ran a red light, and Matt and Ava….” She shook her head. “They were on their way to pick up Aubrey, and they… oh, God, Jamie, my baby died because of some drunk driver….”
Knowing the accident could have been avoided, had some fool not chosen to drive while drinking, was like salt to the already agonizing wound, and I realized there wasn’t anything I could say to provide the comfort my mother needed, so I just sat and held her hand while she cried. Christ! A drunk driver. I felt undeniable anger, mixed with grief, but the anger was pushed aside because I had no outlet for it now and my mother needed me to keep some emotional control.
“I am so sorry this happened, Mom, but Payne and I are here now, and we’ll help with everything.”
“There’s so much that needs to be done, and Matt’s parents aren’t in any position to handle arrangements.”
“That’s okay,” I assured her. “We’ll take care of it. I’ll start making some calls today, but right now, I really think you should go upstairs and get some rest.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly sleep, and people are dropping by….”
“Pay and I’ll handle it, but it’s obvious you’re exhausted, so maybe take one of those sleeping pills the doctor gave you and get a few hours rest.”
“Listen to him, Emma.” Mrs. Sutherland laid a comforting hand on my mother’s shoulder, and I was grateful for her support. “Try and rest. I’ll be here if people drop in, and I’ll explain to them you had to sleep for a while.”
For a moment, it appeared my mother was about to argue, but finally, she nodded and sighed. “Okay, I’ll lie down for a while, but I want to be there when any arrangements are made.…” She bit her lip, in a nervous gesture I remembered from childhood, and it was almost comforting, but the way she looked at me told me she was about to say something I didn’t want to hear. “Look, Jamie, your father… well, he has been told, of course, but I haven’t seen him, and when I tried his cell phone it went to voicemail. My guess is he spent most of last night down at Griffin’s Pub.”
Drinking. Naturally. Leave it to my father to go get freakin’ drunk after his daughter and her husband were killed by a drunk driver. Bastard. If I had actually had even an ounce of respect left for the man, it would have died in that moment, but where my father was concerned, my respect had faded away long years before. Now I had to deal with the bastard diving into a bottle when my mother needed him most.
In a voice that was tightly controlled, I said, “Don’t worry, I’ll track Dad down.”
“Maybe it would be best if you allowed Payne to find him.”
“Mom—”
“I’m not worried about your father, James, but I know how he is with you. The days of him insulting you are over, and I won’t have him pushing you away from us again.”
“Dad can’t come between you and me. Okay? Even if he and I have no relationship, he can’t change the fact that you are my mother and I love you.” I managed a smile. “Now, forget about Dad, because either Pay or I will track him down, and you need to go and get some rest.”
I really was worried about her. She was pale, drawn, her hands shook, and I knew the next few days would be agonizing. We had so much to do and prepare for, but I made up my mind then to shoulder the responsibility as much as possible. For Ava. For Matt. For my mother, and in a strange way, for my father, because Russ Truman certainly wasn’t going to do anything helpful. I decided to put off any kind of confrontation with him until I was feeling more stable and more confident emotionally.
I walked my mother upstairs to her room, and after seeing her inside, I went down the hall and quietly opened the door to Aubrey’s nursery and stepped inside. Tears pricked at my eyes. My mom had used the room that had been Ava’s childhood room to serve as a nursery for Aubrey whenever she visited, and despite the fresh pink paint on the walls, the delicate white trim, and a variety of princess dolls arranged on white wicker shelves, the room still felt like Ava’s room to me. Maybe it always would. I could still picture it as it had been: walls painted blue and littered with posters of actors and pop stars, clothing scattered all over the floor, the bed, the closet overflowing with shoes and magazines and books because Ava hadn’t been fond of cleaning or throwing away anything.
Ava, I miss you! And I had no doubt it would get wo
rse in the days and weeks and months to come. Adjusting to life without my sister would certainly take time, but I couldn’t focus on my grief, and the reason why was curled up in a crib, looking angelic in a white sleeper decorated with little red and pink flowers. Despite the pain and shock of the last few hours, I smiled as I looked at my sleeping niece.
She was so beautiful, completely peaceful, though I suspected she wouldn’t be that way for long—another half hour, maybe, and she would be ready for a diaper change and a bottle and… well, whatever else three-month-olds needed first thing in the morning.
“I guess I’ve got a lot to learn, sugar bear,” I whispered, feeling a little shaken at the realization that Payne and I were now responsible for Aubrey. We were her legal guardians, which meant adjustments to our lives in ways I couldn’t begin to fathom. It would have been easy to panic, but somehow I refrained from doing so, and I reminded myself that Ava and Matt had chosen me and Payne to care for Aubrey because they knew they could trust us. I won’t let you guys down, sis, I promised silently. I swear. No one could be better parents to Aubrey than you and Matt, but Pay and I will love her and protect her and give her the best life possible, and I will make damn sure she knows all about you and Matt. I will keep the two of you alive for your daughter.
It was the least I could do. I would share my memories of Ava and Matt, and I would make sure Aubrey knew that she had been the center of their world. Yes, it would be an adjustment, learning how to take care of a baby, but I didn’t for a second doubt that Payne and I could and would handle it. Somehow. That was what family did, after all, a fact I held onto as the door behind me opened and closed. Without turning around, I knew it was Payne, and I sighed when his strong arms wrapped firmly around my waist, and I leaned back, into his embrace.
We stood for a moment, watching Aubrey sleep, and Payne rested his head on my shoulder. “She is so beautiful.” His breath was wonderfully warm, fanning over my neck, and I smiled—a real, genuine smile—for the first time in hours.
“She’s stunning,” I agreed. “She looks like a little doll. And… she looks just like Ava did as a baby.”
“Well, from what I’ve seen in the photos Ava sent, Aubrey has the Truman eyes.”
“Pay….” I turned in his arms. “Aubrey isn’t going to have any actual memories of Ava and Matt, and that breaks my heart. All of this is just so unfair. Mom said the driver who hit them had been drinking, and despite knowing that, my father has been down at Griffin’s Pub all night.”
It made me physically sick, thinking about him holed up in some dark corner, downing one shot after another, and I didn’t resist when Payne pulled me closer, holding me tight against his body, as if he could somehow shelter me from the particular brand of pain my father was an expert at causing. I melted into him, closing my eyes and wrapping my arms around his waist, anchoring us together, finding comfort, warmth. Payne’s nearness was exactly what I needed to rejuvenate me and strengthen me for the painful moments and the difficult decisions that awaited all of us as we figured out how to say goodbye to Matt and Ava and still somehow keep focused on the future Aubrey was counting on us to build for her.
None of it would be easy, and more tears would certainly fall, but standing there, wrapped in Pay’s arms, I knew as long as I had him to lean on, I would make it through to the other side.
Payne
Shortly after noon, a somewhat-rested Emma and a still-exhausted-but-damn-determined Jamie insisted on going to the funeral home to begin the process of final arrangements for Matt and Ava, and I offered to go with them. Jamie seemed to be holding it together rather well, all things considered, but I knew how much he was hurting. He wanted to be strong for his mother, but I was concerned for him. I was well aware that being vulnerable with anyone wasn’t easy for my James, but with me, he could let his guard down and know it was safe. It had taken some time for him to feel completely at ease with me, but now he did, and I wanted very much to offer him comfort and strength in whatever way possible. But Jamie assured me he was fine. And he asked if I could stay with Aubrey so the next door neighbor could at least return to her house long enough to shower and change before returning—at her own insistence—to help with visitors dropping in to offer comfort and/or provisions.
It was my first time alone with Aubrey. Actually, it was my first time alone with any baby, and needless to say, I was more than a little nervous. “Keep in mind that Uncle Pay is new to this, so take it easy on me, princess.”
Aubrey simply looked up at me with big blue eyes, and I knew the little girl would have me wrapped around her finger before she uttered her first actual words. She was a mixture of Ava and Matt, and she was perfect. Beautiful. Sweet. I held her for a long time after feeding her, and mentally, I was listing everything Jamie and I would need to do to prepare our apartment for the little girl’s arrival. The guest room would need to be converted into a proper nursery, with a crib and all the other necessities, and we would need to begin baby-proofing everything. Sure, it would be a while before Aubrey was mobile, but I didn’t want to take any chances. Jamie and I needed to discuss what would work best as far as child care—a private nanny or a daycare center. It was overwhelming. But I knew we would handle everything, one step at a time. No, neither of us had ever thought we would actually be in this position, even when Matt and Ava drafted their official Will and Testament, but the unimaginable had become reality, and together we would do whatever was best for the little girl left in our care.
In the meantime, I decided there was something I wanted to do for Jamie, and when Mrs. Sutherland returned, I left Aubrey in her care. After changing into fresh jeans and T-shirt, I grabbed my wallet and the keys to the rental car.
“If Jamie and Emma get back before me, just tell him I won’t be gone long,” I told the accommodating neighbor.
Mrs. Sutherland promised to give Jamie the message, and less than twenty minutes later, I parked in front of Griffin’s Pub. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Russ. Once, I had respected the man. He had treated me with respect (more so than he ever had Jamie), but once I came out, Russ suddenly had no use for me, and while that was insulting, what made me hate the man was his total disregard for his son, the man I loved more than life. Anyone who hurt my husband could happily kiss my ass. Russ included. Hell, as far as I was concerned, Russ especially could kiss my ass. If I never had to see the man again, that was fine, but I wasn’t going to stand back and leave it to Jamie to try and reason with Russ when he was already shouldering more than enough reasonability. His mother was really leaning on him, and frankly, Emma ranked far higher than Russ in my book. I wasn’t surprised by the surge of annoyed disgust I felt when I finally spotted Russ’s truck in the pub’s parking lot, proof the man was indeed inside drinking when he should have been with his wife (estranged or not), supporting her through the ordeal of arranging their daughter’s and son-in-law’s funerals.
Gathering my emotions as best I could, I got out of the car and walked into the pub.
It was small, dark, the smell of cigarette smoke hung heavily in the air. After a moment, my eyes adjusted, and I spotted Russ in a corner booth. He had a shot glass and a bottle, and I clenched my jaw as I crossed the room to stand beside his table. He looked up at me with bloodshot eyes that instantly grew chilled.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked with a sneer. I wanted to punch him in the face, but logically, I knew it wouldn’t do him any good, and I didn’t want to add to Jamie’s burden by getting myself arrested for assaulting his bastard father.
“What am I doing here?” I snapped, glaring at him. “You know, I could ask you the same fucking question, Russ, because this sure as hell isn’t where you need to be.” Not wanting to cause a scene, I sat down across from him, and he returned his attention to his shot glass, staring down at it rather than facing me. “Emma and Jamie are trying to organize funerals for Ava and Matt, and they could use your support, but instead you’re here, bellied up to a bottl
e like the fuckin’ lush you’ve become.”
Honestly, I didn’t see any reason to pull my punches. Russ wasn’t someone who would respond to gentle reasoning—no, he was a blunt man, and he needed someone willing to be brutally blunt with him. I figured I was up to that task. More than Jamie. My love was a gentle soul. He had already had one nasty confrontation with his father three years earlier, and they hadn’t spoken since, so it was my turn to deal with Russ Truman’s bigoted ignorance.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke, and I knew Russ was being purposely difficult. “I get that you hate me,” I went on, “and believe me when I say James knows exactly how you feel about him, Russ, but I do know you loved Ava. I think you respected Matt. And I guess at some point, you and Emma were a typical couple in love. Something tells me you still love Emma.”
“Is there a point to this?” He reached for the bottle, or tried to, but I plucked it from his reach and set it aside, which drew his red-rimmed eyes back to mine.
“The point is, Emma needs you to be there for her.”
“She has Jamie.”
“Thank God for that, but you’re her husband—”
“We’re separated.”
It was a weak argument, and I rolled my eyes. “Fine, you’re separated, but you aren’t divorced, and even if you were divorced, Ava was still your daughter, and you owe it to her to be there for her mother.”
“What makes you a fuckin’ expert?” Russ snapped, snatching back the bottle and pouring himself a shot, which he quickly downed. “Both you and James think you fuckin’ know all there is to know about all there is to know, but….” He laughed, but it was a bitter, hollow, and angry sound. “I don’t need some faggot telling me what I should do and what I shouldn’t do, and I don’t need you preaching to me about what my obligations are to Emma and Ava. I fuckin’ know. I know my daughter is dead, and there ain’t anything anyone can do about it, so why the hell should I plan some damn funeral, huh? Why? What good will it do to sit around and cry? Ava and Matt will still be dead. So don’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t do, ’cause all I want to do is sit here and drink, and if you’re so worried about Emma, you and my fuckin’ fag of a son can handle everything.”
Moving Forward Page 2