Closer to the Edge

by Tara Sivec

  My father, in typical fashion, left town right after Caroline’s funeral and we haven’t heard from him since. He never really had any use for us in the past, so it only makes sense he wouldn’t give a shit about us when we need him the most. It’s fine, though. I learned at a young age that I don’t need him in my life, so his absence makes no difference to me. I only wish he could have been a better man for my mother. If he’d concentrated more on his wife and children and less building his career and screwing everything with a nice pair of tits, things could have turned out differently.

  Olivia has understandably kept her distance from my mother, but she still pushes me to check on her every few days while she goes through the process of selling her home and moving into a condo. Being around my mother right now brings back too many bad memories for Olivia, but she told me she just needs some time for it all to make sense in her head and her heart. For so long, she thought my mother was responsible for everything that had happened and it’s hard for her to let go of that pain. Knowing that everything my mother did was to keep Olivia safe makes it a little easier to move towards forgiving and forgetting. I’m amazed every single day that this woman loves me and wants to spend the rest of her life with me. She’s selfless and caring and the best fucking thing that has ever happened to me. Olivia and my mother will probably never be the best of friends, but maybe some day they can be in the same room together and have a cordial conversation. I will leave it all up to Olivia, though. Whatever she wants is perfectly fine with me.

  I’ve given up trying to understand why Caroline did the things she did and why she was filled with so much hate. While I helped my mother pack up her home, she finally told me a few stories about the little sister I knew nothing about. It started off innocent enough: a little five-year-old girl telling everyone she was going to marry her older brother. They thought it was cute. They thought it was sweet. As time wore on, her cute little girl antics rapidly morphed into threats and anger and jealousy. The first time I brought a girlfriend home my senior year of high school, Caroline set her bed on fire after we’d left to go to the movies. When I called home from Navy basic training and told everyone I was dating a girl I’d met on leave, Caroline cut off all of her hair and slit her wrists. Every girl I introduced to my family broke things off with me soon thereafter and I never put two-and-two together. Caroline was subtle with her threats, but they did the job. I stuck up for her when my parents got on her case for her wild nature, promising to always be there for her and take care of her. Maybe that was the catalyst for her obsession with me, who knows? She saw me as her hero; her knight in shining armor who always protected her and her feelings grew until they became something dark and twisted. As soon as she saw Olivia, saw her dark hair and olive complexion and no-nonsense attitude, she knew she’d have to up her game. She knew Olivia was different and it pushed her into the worst downward spiral her life had ever taken. Even though I never met my son, I know without a doubt I would have done anything for him. Maybe even cover up his mental illness and do everything I could to try and bring him back to me. I understand my mother’s actions a little better now, but that doesn’t mean I forgive what she did.

  I’ll never be able to ask Caroline why and I’ll never be able to make sense of it all. The only thing I can do is remember the good times. Remember the little sister I watched over and protected. The little girl my parents brought home from foster care that I would have done anything for. No matter how hard I try, I can’t hate her. I also can’t forgive her for what she stole from me. Time heals all wounds and all that bullshit. I’ll eventually be able to let my anger and disappointment go, but for right now, I’m not going to let it get to me. I have a good life, an amazing woman by my side and I’m not going to fuck it up with regrets and rage over things I can’t change. What’s done is done and the only thing I care about is inside this house.

  After Caroline’s funeral, my mother told me that if Olivia wanted to go back to work at the hospital, she would make it happen immediately. She always knew Olivia was the best nurse that ever came through the doors of UC San Diego and she’d hated herself for ruining Olivia’s career. Her only concern at the time was getting Olivia as far away from Caroline as possible. Olivia thought about it for a few days, but ultimately decided she liked being a home nurse. She enjoyed the change of scenery taking care of people in their homes provided. UC San Diego held a lot of bad memories for Olivia and she said she wouldn’t be able to walk through those doors again without remembering the day she lost our son. I supported whatever decision she made. As long as she was happy, I didn’t care what she wanted to do.

  With my shit knee, my career as a SEAL is over and that’s okay with me. Not even Uncle Sam could tear me away from Olivia ever again, anyway. My computer skills are invaluable, though, and the Navy has asked that I stay on board, working in Intel. It’s not the most glamorous of jobs, but it keeps me busy and close to Olivia and that’s all I want and need in life.

  Garrett and Parker just announced that Annie is going to be a big sister in six months, Layla turned the tables and proposed to Brady as soon as she got home from Napa, and Austin just called us yesterday and told us Gwen is also pregnant. I don’t know what the fuck those women drank in Napa, but it obviously worked wonders. Garrett, Austin and Brady all agreed that whatever I did, I should keep doing it because their women practically attacked them as soon as they got home.

  The door to the bathroom suddenly flies open and I take a step back, searching Olivia’s face, making sure she’s okay. Maybe this wasn’t my brightest idea. The doctor told her the chances of her getting pregnant again were slim to none, but I reminded her over and over this morning that he never said it was impossible. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed her to take that fucking test. All it’s going to do is remind her of something she might never have and I don’t want to do that to her right now, especially when all of our friends have been bit by the fucking fertility bug and she’s surrounded by their annoying displays of happiness, a constant reminder of something she might never have.

  She’s holding the white plastic test in her hands, staring down at it silently. Her chin quivers and my heart instantly falls.

  Shit! Goddammit! I’m such an asshole.

  “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have made you take that stupid thing,” I tell her softly, moving towards her and rubbing my hands up and down her arms. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter. We’re going to adopt fifty, remember?”

  Olivia shakes her head back and forth and my heart breaks as I watch tears escape from her eyes and fall down her cheeks. She looks up at me, the tears falling faster and I swipe them away, telling her over and over that I love her and it doesn’t matter. I kiss the top of her head and apologize again for putting her through this.

  She doesn’t say a word and it’s much worse than if she was screaming at me and cursing my name.

  “Baby, say something. Please,” I beg.

  Her eyes never leave mine as she turns the test around between us and holds it up in front of my face. I glance at it once. Twice. A third time.

  “Holy shit,” I finally whisper in shock.

  Olivia laughs through her tears. “Yep, I think ‘holy shit’ just about sums it up. What the hell was in that wine in Napa?!”

  I wrap my arms around her and pull her against me, both of us laughing and crying as we rock back and forth in the hallway of our home.

  Our home where the future looks bright and dreams will come true.

  Our home with the yellow door.

  ONE YEAR LATER…

  “I mean seriously, does it get any cuter than THAT?” Parker asks, pointing over to the group on the deck behind her house.

  Layla, Gwen, Parker and I all stare at the scene unfolding in her back yard. As cute as the babies are, the men holding them is what has attracted our attention.

  Annie is sitting on Garrett’s knee, both of them staring down at Annie’s little brother, fast asleep in Garrett’s othe
r arm. Colton Garrett McCarthy came screaming into the world six months ago and Annie has proven to be the best big sister in the world, constantly wanting to help change diapers and give bottles.

  My eyes move over to Austin as he gives his three-month-old daughter, Genevieve Marie Conrad, a bottle while quietly arguing with Gwen’s daughter, Emma, about the number of cupcakes an eight-year-old can eat before she barfs. .

  Brady, sitting on the other side of Austin, leans towards Emma with three-week-old Cooper Alexander Marshall asleep in his arms and tries to help Austin reason with his niece.

  My heart skips a beat when my gaze lands on my husband. As soon as we found out I was pregnant, we didn’t waste any time heading to the courthouse. Cole tried to convince me that I deserved a big wedding, but I shut that idea down really fast. My nerves were already shot worrying about my pregnancy and whether it would go well after what happened the first time, not to mention the fact that I wasn’t even supposed to be able to get pregnant. I didn’t need the added stress of planning a wedding. Saying a quick “I Do” with Garrett and Parker in attendance was good enough for me.

  Cole looks up, meeting my eyes across the yard and we share a smile. The last five months have been hectic, to say the least, but we’re finally getting into the swing of things and actually getting more than two hours of sleep at night.

  The girls and I make our way across the yard and up to the deck. Standing behind Cole, I place my hands on his shoulders and stare down into his arms. My heart swells with joy and more love than I ever thought was possible. The day we found out what we were having was a mixture of joy and nerves. On the one hand, I was afraid of having another boy, worried he would think he was a replacement for his brother. I honestly wasn’t sure myself if I would feel the exact same way when he was born. On the other hand, I wanted so badly for Cole to be able to have another son. One he could hold and touch and teach to play baseball out in the yard, hopefully avoiding the mailbox, unlike his mother.

  I realized when the nurse slid the ultrasound wand over my stomach and we got a look at the screen, that what we were blessed with was something far better, albeit a little scary. No baby would ever be able to replace the one we’d lost. No child would ever be able to fill the hole in our hearts that he left behind, but we knew, in that moment, that the two hearts we saw thumping on the ultrasound monitor would do a very good job of helping us heal.

  “Either our daughters are finally getting the hang of this whole napping thing, or the sound of my voice bores them to sleep,” Cole told me softly.

  Leaning over his shoulder, I run my fingers through Ella Katherine Vargas’ soft, dark curls and then do the same with Victoria Parker Vargas. Born three minutes and seventeen seconds apart, our twins came into the world one week before their due date during a scheduled C-section, trying to outdo each other in the screaming department. It was bittersweet, lying on the table with a sheet propped up so I couldn’t see beyond my chest as the doctor worked tirelessly to make sure our girls came out perfect and healthy. The scheduled, orderly way they were born was such a drastic difference from the rushed, scary, painful way our son was born. Having Cole by my side every step of the way, holding my hand, telling me he loved me and giving me words of encouragement made things a hell of a lot easier.

  Bending over, I wrap my arms around Cole’s shoulders and rest my chin on his head as we both stare down at the beautiful miracles he holds in his arms. The soft hum of conversation floats around us and I take a minute to glance around the deck. For the first time in my life, I have something I always wanted: a family. Not only do I have a husband and two beautiful, healthy daughters, I have friends who would do anything for me and who I have so much in common with. Each of these couples almost walked away from a future together, but they defied the odds and made their way back to one another, just like me and Cole.

  A new family finished building the house Cole started for us and I’m okay with that. We found a bigger place that wasn’t filled with anything but our new memories and hopes for the future. When Cole sold them the land and the partially constructed house, he made sure the sale was contingent on them keeping the bench and the fenced-in area exactly as it is. We took our daughters there yesterday and told them about their older brother. We sat on the bench where Cole so lovingly had the words in his heart etched and looked out over the edge of the cliff at the ocean stretching out in front of us.

  We came so close to the edge of letting each other go, and we both realize now the life we would’ve missed out on. I’m thankful that we stepped back from the edge and learned to forgive, I’m thankful for our daughters, who taught us what love is really all about and, of course, I’m thankful that Cole gave us back our yellow door, so we can walk Ella and Victoria through it every single day and teach them about happiness and hope.

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