by Carrie Davis
He nodded and moved back into my arms, and I held him, burying my face in his hair again and giving him a moment to struggle with his grief before we had to head to the airport, back to North Carolina and the people there that needed us.
Jenna. Lilabeth.
Alex’s parents.
People who had known and loved Alex and Amanda, extended family, friends. And, of course, Matthew and Amanda’s father, with his bitterness and anger and his hate for the only child he had left, the man I loved and would protect, even if it meant standing between him and his father while Matthew and the rest of our family grieved.
Matthew
The flight from New York to North Carolina passed in a blur of tears as Dexter and I sat side by side, our hands locked together and our minds in mutual chaos.
“I just keep thinking this is all a dream, and I keep waiting to wake up and find out Amanda and Alex are…that they are okay.” I whispered the confession, staring out the window though all I could see were lights from the wings. It was late. I should have been exhausted, and physically, my body did feel drained, but mentally, I was too on edge, too suspended in a place where I couldn’t get a real handle on my emotions. It all felt surreal. I had spoken to Amanda just three days earlier—we had talked about Lilabeth and our parents’ marital standstill—and every other day, my email account was spammed with welcome pictures of Lilabeth: Lilabeth sleeping, sucking her bottle, being bathed. Amanda was never without a camera, and Alex was almost as hopeless.
There would be no more proudly taken pictures, at least no more pictures taken by Alex or Amanda, and Lilabeth wouldn’t have any memories of the mother and father who loved her so very much.
“You know, Amanda and I weren’t always close.” I turned from the window to look at Dexter when the silence became too heavy. “When we were kids and teens, I was so envious of her, because she was perfect, and she…well, she was the kid dad was proud of. She was beautiful. Graceful. She never had that horrible, awkward stage, and as we both know, I had an extended awkward stage, and my dad never...” I shook my head, and Dexter squeezed my hand to let me know he was there. That meant more to me than words could have expressed.
“It was after I was in college that I got over all those issues,” I went on, “and Amanda and I became friends, and…and now she’s just gone without warning, Dex, and I don’t know what to do, because I’ve lost my sister and one of my best friends.” I tried to blink away the tears, but they began falling anyway, and Dexter brushed them away, and I smiled at little at that. At him. He was so determined to be strong for me, for my mother, but he was hurting, too, and I hated that. I hated being powerless in the face of that hurt, but I was so grateful we had one another. I melted close when he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, warm and protective, providing me a shelter I knew only Dexter could provide.
Sometimes it still amazed me that this wonderful man was mine—my husband, my partner, my best friend. My childhood love/hate fascination with Dexter had matured into something indefinable, and when I thought of how far we had come together, I felt foolish for my earlier assumption he might be leaving me.
“Back at the apartment… I came in and I saw the suitcases and...” I turned my head to look up at him apologetically, and he dropped a gentle kiss on my lips, which assured me my momentary lapse in sanity was forgiven. For now. I had no doubt that later Dexter would remind me we were married, and that meant he and I were in this for life. Period. No leaving. No walking away.
I pressed closer to him, and for the remainder of the flight, we sat in comfortable silence, finding comfort in simply being close to one another. As long as I had Dexter, I knew I could survive the agonizing days ahead, and I had no doubt Amanda would have been the first to remind me that what Dex and I shared was special. No one had supported Dexter and me the way Amanda had, and I found myself praying—something I didn’t do often—that the faith Amanda had placed in me and Dex to be Lilabeth’s guardians had been well placed.
It was a strange thought, knowing Dex and I were now responsible for Lilabeth, but I forced any fears related to that responsibility from my mind because there would be pressing issues once we landed. After we made it to my mother’s, arrangements would need to be made. There were other family members that needed to be notified, and I needed to be steady and clearly focused to help my mother, because there was no doubt in my mind that my father wouldn’t be of assistance. He reacted to most any crisis with a cold shoulder—snapped words, in my case—although for most of my childhood and teenage years, and in the time since, he had ignored me. But this? Losing Amanda and Alex? This was something he could not ignore. Odds were the bastard would try, though, and that would result in my mom enduring more upset. Which wasn’t surprising; my father was a pro at upsetting my mother.
By the time the plane landed, my stomach was in knots, and I mostly lagged behind while Dexter gathered our luggage and found us our waiting rental car.
When we were settled, our bags thrown into the back of a mid-sized sedan, Dexter 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. I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him close to me.
“I love you, Matthew.” 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.
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 Dexter 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 Dexter’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. Dexter 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 Alex and Amanda 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. Dexter 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.
“Matthew…” she whispered in a broken voice.
I looked at Dexter, 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.
Amanda was gone.
Alex 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 Dexter’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 surprise
d 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 Dexter slipped back outside to retrieve our bags from the car. “Lilabeth’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, Matthew.” 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 Alex and Amanda...” She shook her head. “They were on their way to pick up Lilabeth, and they…oh, God, Matthew, 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. Dexter and I are here now, and we’ll help with everything.”
“There’s so much that needs to be done, and Alex’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...”
“Dex 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, Jenna.” 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, Matthew, 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 a drunk driver killed his daughter and her husband.
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 Dexter to find him.”
“Mom—”
“I’m not worried about your father, Matthew, 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 Dex 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 Amanda.
For Alex.
For my mother.
And, in a strange way, for my father, because Raymond Sullivan 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 Lilabeth’s nursery and stepped inside.
Tears pricked at my eyes. My mom had used the room that had been Amanda’s childhood room to serve as a nursery for Lilabeth 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 Amanda’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 Amanda hadn’t been fond of cleaning or throwing away anything.
Amanda, I miss you!
And I had no doubt it would get worse 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 nine-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 Dexter and I were now responsible for Lilabeth. 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 Amanda and Alex had chosen me and Dexter to care for Lilabeth 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 Lilabeth than you and Alex, but Dex 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 Alex. I will keep the two of you alive for your daughter.
It was the least I could do. I would share my memories of Amanda and Alex, and I would make sure Lilabeth 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 Dexter 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 Dexter, 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 Lilabeth sleep, and Dexter 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 Amanda did as a baby.”
“Well, from what I’ve seen in the photos Amanda sent, Lilabeth has the Sullivan eyes.”
“Dex...” I turned in his arms. “Lilabeth isn’t going to have any actual memories of Amanda and Alex, 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 Dexter pulled me closer, holding me tight against his body, as if he could somehow shelter me from the particular brand of pain my father w
as an expert at causing.
I melted into him, closing my eyes and wrapping my arms around his waist, anchoring us together, finding comfort, warmth. Dexter’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 Alex and Amanda and still somehow keep focused on the future Lilabeth 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 Dex’s arms, I knew as long as I had him to lean on, I would make it through to the other side.
Dexter
Shortly after noon, a somewhat rested Jenna, and a still-exhausted-but-damn-determined Matthew, insisted on going to the funeral home to begin the process of final arrangements for Alex and Amanda, and I offered to go with them.
Matthew 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 Matthew, 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 Matthew assured me he was fine. And he asked if I could stay with Lilabeth 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.