by Rye Hart
“The book is fine,” he said shortly.
“It’s obviously not,” I said. “You’re clearly upset, and that’s okay.”
“I’m fine,” he said. His voice was low and his face so tight that I didn’t know what to do to break through his wall.
“Sean,” I said. “You can talk to me. I just want to help.”
Without another word, he stood up and marched down the hallway. He didn’t so much as glance behind him before he reached his study and disappeared inside. I jumped when he slammed the door. As I stared at the closed door from my spot on the couch, I thought about going after him.
It wasn’t long before I thought better of it. Sean was still grieving Telissa, and I knew he needed some space, but it was hard. I wanted to be there for him, to help him through this difficult time. I couldn’t do that if he slammed doors between us. With a sigh, I got up and made my way upstairs to check on the kids.
Tommy was finishing up his shower and Sarah was still playing in her room. I leaned against the doorframe to watch her. She was dressing her dolls in different outfits and tying their hair back in messy braids. The sight of her playing so peacefully brought a smile to my face.
When Tommy came out of the bathroom, clean and dressed, I wrapped him in a hug and held him tightly. My mind was still preoccupied with thoughts of Sean, but being with the kids helped me focus. If Sean wanted my help, he would ask for it. There wasn’t anything I could do except encourage him to let me in. If I pushed too hard, he might lash out, or worse. He could end things between us and fire me again. Then what? I just promised Tommy and Sarah I would stick around as long as they wanted me to. I couldn’t leave them now.
As dinnertime rolled around, I took the kids downstairs to eat. Sean didn’t leave his study. I went down the hall and knocked, calling out that dinner was ready, but he didn’t answer. I strained my ears, trying to hear movement inside but there was none. I sighed and turned around.
Tommy, Sarah, and I ate dinner alone that night. We laughed and talked and planned our next adventure. Sarah wanted to go visit the snow cone stand again, but Tommy insisted on a bug hunt. By the time dinner was over, the kids were exhausted. Sean still hadn’t emerged from his study.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - SEAN
From my study, I heard Emily washing the dishes. She’d already put the kids to bed and came back downstairs to clean up. I sighed and leaned back in my chair, listening to the sounds of her moving around in the kitchen. She was so close and yet, she felt so far away. I knew I’d been rude to her earlier, but I couldn’t help it. My frustration was getting worse with every passing second, and I couldn’t stop it.
All day, I tried to write just one sentence, just one word. My first draft was far from finished. I’d barely started it, and when I read over what I had so far, it was awful. Around two o’clock this afternoon, I trashed it and tried to start over. The only problem was, I had nowhere to start.
My head felt heavy with my own expectations, and I couldn’t clear it. I kept seeing Telissa’s face swimming before me, confusing me and making me ever angrier. Tommy and Sarah needed her so much, but she was gone. They didn’t have a mother to care for them like they deserved. It wasn’t fair or right, and all I wanted to do was change it.
But I couldn’t.
Instead, I could only try to write this book and hope that it might help other kids somehow. The story was so important that I didn’t want to mess it up. Writing for children was proving to be much harder than I’d anticipated had to find a way to craft the story so they would understand, so they could make sense of their grief. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but I never imagined it would be this hard.
I groaned and ran my hands over my face. My notebook was open in front of me, as well as my computer. I’d been switching between the two all evening, just trying to find a spark of inspiration. There was none. My writer’s block was so formidable that it scared away all inspiration and motivation. I ended up sitting alone in a dark study, staring at the ceiling and wishing for a visit from my muse.
As I sat there, I suddenly realized Emily was quiet. There was no longer any noise coming from the kitchen. I frowned and sat up, straining my ears to listen. I assumed she’d gone upstairs to bed, and I wasn’t surprised. After the way I treated her, I couldn’t expect her to stop in and see me tonight.
Just as the thought entered my mind, there was a soft knock on the door. I smiled, feeling relieved, and cleared my throat.
“Come in!” I called.
Emily pushed open the door and stepped inside. She didn’t meet my eyes, but she forced a smile on her face as she walked over to me. There was a plate of food in her hands. She set it down on my desk and then finally looked at me with hesitant eyes. I immediately felt worse about my behavior this afternoon.
“Thank you,” I said, gesturing toward the food. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I figured you hadn’t eaten much today,” she said with a shrug. “You need something if you’re going to keep going tonight.”
“I don’t know if I will.” I sighed. “I haven’t been able to write a word all day.”
Emily’s face softened as she sat down in an empty chair. She was sitting across from me, with the desk separating us, and I hated it. I wanted her closer. I wished she would come over and sit in my lap like she’d done before. I knew she was still upset about earlier so I didn’t push it. Instead, I just looked at her softly.
“I know I was an ass earlier,” I said. “You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry, Emily.”
She didn’t say anything. She just continued to look at me as if she were waiting for me. Maybe she was. Or maybe she just knew I had more to say. I sighed and leaned back in my chair again.
“I don’t know what to do,” I said. “I keep sitting down to write this book, but nothing comes out. Sometimes, I wonder if this was even a good idea. Me being a writer. I mean, what was I thinking?”
“That you could do it,” Emily simply. “And you can. I’ve always said that.”
“I know you have,” I said. “And your encouragement means so much, but what if I can’t? What if I really just can’t write anything?”
“Is that how you feel?” Emily asked.
“Sometimes,” I said sadly. “Like today, you took the kids out so I would have the whole house to myself. It was amazing and everything was quiet, but still, I couldn’t write. It was like there was a wall separating me from the words, and nothing I did could break it down. I hate feeling this way.”
“What way?” Emily asked.
“Like a failure.”
The words fell from my lips before I knew they were coming. Emily’s face softened even more, and she stood up slowly. She walked over to where I was sitting and lowered herself into my lap. Playing with my hair, she held me close and sighed. My arms went around her waist, and I rested my head on her chest. It was the first time I’d been this close to her without popping a boner. Just holding her felt right tonight. I didn’t want sex. I just wanted this.
Emily played with my hair for a few minutes, silently comforting me in a way no one else could. As we held each other, I forgave myself for not being able to write. I let go of all my anger and frustration and just lived inside the moment. I closed my eyes and sighed, breathing in the scent of the most amazing woman I knew.
“Listen,” Emily said softly. She pulled away so she could look into my eyes. “You can do this. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but you can. No matter how hard it gets, you just have to keep pushing through. If this is something you really want, and I think it is, then you can’t give up. You just can’t.”
“It is,” I said with a nod. “It’s so important to me, and I just know it will be important to other people too.”
“What’s the book about?” Emily asked. “Maybe I can help you get started.”
I paused. I hadn’t yet told anyone what my book was about. It felt odd to think about saying it out loud, but I knew I w
ould have to eventually. I looked up at Emily and closed my eyes for a second, preparing myself to let her further inside my soul.
“I want to write a book about grief,” I said. “A book for kids. Basically, my goal is to create a story that will help children not only understand and accept death, but also help them through the difficult times they’re going to face. It’s so hard for kids to lose someone they love. They don’t understand what happened or why it happened. If I can write something that might help with that, then, well, I’d been successful. I would feel like I finally did something right.”
Emily’s eyes were filled with tears by the time I finished talking. She smiled and wiped her eyes, sniffing softly.
“That’s amazing,” she said. “Sean, really, that’s wonderful.”
“You think so?” I asked.
“Of course,” Emily said. “Kids need something like that. You’re right. I’ve spent so much time around children, so I’ve seen the detrimental effect death can have on them. At such young ages, they aren’t emotionally prepared for something so final. It crushes them. If you can provide the world with something to help those kids, I think that would be amazing. More than amazing.”
“I do too,” I said honestly. “Which is why I feel so much pressure to get it right. Every time I write something, I throw it out because it doesn’t feel good enough. This story is too important to screw up, you know? I have to do it justice.”
“And you will,” Emily said with confidence. “But beating yourself up about it isn’t going to help you. If you keep putting all these expectations on yourself, you’ll never get it down. You’ll never even really start because you’re too inside your own head.”
“But what do I do about that?” I asked, feeling defeated.
“You have to find a way to let go,” Emily said. “You need to just relax and write, to rid yourself of the pressure and fear. Once you do that, you’ll be able to write the book without even trying. It’ll just come to you.”
“How?” I asked.
“Because you know what to write,” Emily said. “You have two children who lost their mother, Sean. You’ve watched the pain and fear and heartache wreck their lives. You, more than anyone, have a unique perspective. If you can just let everything else go and focus on them, on Tommy and Sarah, then you’ll be fine.”
I nodded and glanced down at my desk. My notebook was still lying open to my outline page. As I held Emily, I reread the outline and slowly shook my head. It all seemed wrong now. Emily was right. I knew exactly what to write. I just had to access that part of myself and focus on it. My mind was so full of fear and regret that I couldn’t even find a place to begin. As I sat there, I pictured Tommy and Sarah on the day of Telissa’s funeral. They were both so small that day, so young and naïve.
“When Telissa died,” I said softly. “Sarah kept asking me when she would be alive again. No matter how many times I tried to explain death to her, she just didn’t understand.”
“I’m sure a lot of kids feel that way,” Emily said.
“Tommy didn’t,” I said. “He understood almost too well. It was like he just shut down after it happened. He barely spoke or ate unless I forced him. For months, he was like a zombie. I found myself wishing he would share Sarah’s hope, if just for one day.”
“That’s understandable,” Emily said. Her voice was soft as she ran her fingers through my hair again.
I sighed. “You’re right,” I said. “I just need to focus on them. Tommy and Sarah are the reason I’m doing this. They are my inspiration.”
Emily smiled and kissed me gently. She ran her thumb down my cheek once and then kissed me again, lingering just a second longer than normal. When she pulled away, the smile was still in place on her face. Without a word, she stood up and left me alone to work.
She closed the door behind her, shutting out the world and the noise. I sighed and turned to face my computer. It was brightly lit and mocking me with its blank screen, so I closed it with a snap. As I picked up my pen, I remembered Emily’s advice and smiled to myself.
My eyes immediately fell on the picture I kept on my desk of Telissa holding both Tommy and Sarah in her arms. She was already sick when the picture was taken, a colorful scarf tied around her bald head. It wasn’t Telissa that drew me to the picture, though, it was my kids. They were both smiling at the camera with big wide grins that were bright and happy. Neither of them knew what was going to happen in just a few short weeks. They didn’t know this would be the last picture they ever took with their mom.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX - EMILY
The next morning, Sean as in a better mood. He had spent most of the night writing in his study. He seemed to be moving along nicely now, and I couldn’t help but feel like I’d had a hand in it
The night before, his writer’s block had been killing him, and I flipped back and forth between wanting to help and leaving him alone and just going to bed. When I finally went in to talk to him, I was glad I did. It was obvious he needed to talk through his fears with someone. He appeared on Thursday morning, emerging from his room with a wide, easy smile on his face. As I made breakfast, he stole a kiss when the kids weren’t looking. I giggled softly and finished cooking, bringing the plates and utensils to the table.
We all sat down together, ate breakfast, and talked happily about our plans. Tommy and Sarah both wanted to go on another adventure, but I wanted to stay close to the house today. If Sean needed another pep talk, I would be around to give it to him.
“What about the mall?” Sarah asked hopefully. “Do they even have a mall here?”
I laughed. “Not in town. But there’s one a couple towns over.”
“Is it far?” Sarah asked.
“No.” I shook my head. “But we probably won’t go today.”
“Why not?” Sarah asked, poking her bottom lip out in her signature pout.
“Because we went out yesterday,” I said simply. “Let’s stay around the house today. We can play in the backyard and build a fort upstairs.”
“Yeah!” Tommy said, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
“I want to go to the mall,” Sarah said, her eyes dark. She was glaring at me with her arms crossed over her chest. I’d seen her behave this way toward Sean, but never to me. I cleared my throat and set down my fork, ready for a fight.
“I said no,” I told her firmly. “We’ll go to the mall another day.”
“When?” Sarah asked.
“Probably before school starts,” I said. “So we can get you new clothes.”
“That’s weeks away!” Sarah whined and stomped her foot under the table.
I opened my mouth to chastise her, but Sean but his hand over mine to silence me. He looked at Sarah sharply and cleared his throat. When she looked at him, her eyes grew darker and more determined than ever.
“Emily told you no,” Sean said with authority. “If you can’t accept that answer, you’ll spend the rest of the day in your room.”
Sarah’s arms tightened over her chest, and she glared daggers at her father. When her eyes returned to my face, I could tell she wanted me to give in. She thought she had a better chance of getting me to cave than Sean, but she was wrong. I’d spent too much time around children to give in to their demands. Silently, I shook my head.
“This sucks!” Sarah screamed as loud as she could.
She jumped out of her chair and stormed into the living room. She marched all the way to the staircase and then stomped her way up to her room. We all heard her door slam loudly.
I sighed and pushed my chair out, ready to go talk her down. Sean caught my eyes and shook his head.
“She needs to learn,” he said. “Leave her be.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but I quickly snapped it closed again. Sean was Sarah’s father, and I had to do things his way. But as we sat at the table, we began to hear loud thuds coming from upstairs.
“She’s throwing things,” Tommy said wisely. He took a bite of his toast
and shrugged. “She does that when she’s really mad.”
With a glance at Sean, I pushed out my chair and stood up. I was halfway to the stairs when I felt his hand on my arm.
“Emily, leave her be,” Sean said firmly. “She’ll calm down.”
“She’s five,” I said softly, so Tommy wouldn’t hear. “Are you sure you want to let her rage like that? I can talk to her.”
“Leave her be,” he said again.
His eyes were set, and I knew there was no use arguing. I didn’t agree, but I didn’t have to. If this was how he wanted to deal with Sarah’s outburst, then that was that. I sighed and nodded, my shoulders slumping slightly.
“I just think I can help her,” I said.
“I’m sure you can,” Sean said, nodding in agreement. “Just not right now.”
“Okay,” I finally conceded.
Sean smiled and glanced behind him to make sure Tommy wasn’t paying attention. He leaned down and kissed me swiftly before he disappeared into his study. I sighed and returned to the table. Tommy finished eating, and I washed the dishes quickly. Sarah was still locked away in her room, throwing things around and screaming occasionally.
It took everything inside me not to march up the stairs and let her have it, but I knew Sean didn’t want that. He’d made his wishes clear, and I wasn’t in the position to challenge him, despite the fact that I wanted to.
When I was done cleaning the kitchen, Tommy and I headed upstairs to build a fort. We started in his room and made it so big that it extended all through the hall and into my room. By then Sarah had quieted down so I knocked on her door. When she poked her head out, her eyes flew wide at the sight of the fort.
Excited, she ran out to join us. Her attitude was gone, and in its place, was the sweet little girl I’d grown to know. Still, I didn’t want her to think it was okay to throw fits. While she played with Tommy, I watched silently and thought of a way to help her see why her actions were unacceptable. Everything I thought of would have upset Sean, so I stayed quiet and vowed to talk to him about it later.