CHAPTER EIGHT
ADAM
It had been a difficult month since Beth and Will’s death, but we got the kids in to see the counselor and they seemed to be doing better. April was still walking around with black hair, although it was now at least cut nicely, and her wardrobe was a little more emo than it had been previously, but the counselor assured us that it was just a phase that she would grow out of. Her grades were slipping, though, and we got more than one phone call from the school telling us about her skipping school. We tried to ground her but she would just sneak out. The parenting thing was way more challenging than either Kate or I had imagined.
Kate was working a lot as well. She said she had a very demanding client and even had to take her calls while at the dinner table, which was a point the counselor discussed. We needed to take time out every day as family time and a dinner together was the best option considering the various schedules each of the kids had. I could see her work combined with the pressure of the new family we’d inherited was weighing her down so I didn’t comment on her dinner interruptions, not wanting to add to her stress. I wished she would lean on me more.
I’d been spending most of the days at the house and though I was off the bottle, by going cold turkey, I still woke up in the middle of the night several times a week in a cold sweat from the damn nightmares, tangled up in my sheets and hoping to God no one heard me.
It was almost December, and I was trying to figure out what to do to make Christmas a special one. I’d been searching the shed, looking for letters when Kate walked in. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Trying to find something,” I grumbled.
“You’ve been out here every day, going through this place.” She looked around, and for the first time in days I saw what she did. In addition to the tools, house supplies, and gardening equipment, on the back wall were forty plastic bins that I’d been spending my time carefully going through. Bethy, it turns out, was quite the organized if not a bit of a hoarder soul. She had multiple boxes of decorations for each holiday, even ones like Veteran’s Day. I didn’t think people really celebrated that with decorations.
“You remember the letters they wrote to each of the kids the day they were born? I’ve searched every inch of this shed for them,” I said pointing to the wall. “And every one of those boxes.”
“Adam.” She grinned at me then placed her hand over her mouth as though she was covering up a laugh.
“They won’t be in the shed. Beth would have kept those in the house so they were safe. Come on I’ll…”
Her phone rang and she groaned after looking down at it. “I have to take this,” she said apologetically. “Check the closet in their room.”
No one had moved into Beth and Will’s bedroom, because it was just too hard. The counselor had told us that we would eventually have to clean the space out and use it, that in the long run, it wouldn’t be healthy to keep their room like a memorial to their death. He said it would be good for the kids to go through their parents’ things at some point, but none of us were ready for that yet.
In addition we didn’t want the kids to think we were trying to replace their parents by over taking their bedroom. When I walked in, the feeling of dread was overwhelming. The last time I’d come in here was to grab a suit for the funeral, and I wasn’t even thinking clearly or even understanding what I’d been doing. It was just a chore on the list I had to accomplish that horrible week.
The wash of emotions that filled me was unexpected. My knees almost buckled as I walked back into the walk-in closet. All their clothes were hanging neatly as if waiting for something that would never happen. I hated those clothes; everything looked so normal in a situation that was anything but. I took a swipe at the shirts hanging on Will’s side of the closet, suddenly so angry at him for leaving me. He was the only person that had been a constant in my life. I knew it wasn’t rational, but I didn’t care as I swiped at them again and lost my balance and crashed to the floor.
I sat there for long minutes, my good leg bent at the knee and my head in my hands. Hot angry tears poured from my eyes all over again.
“Uncle Adam?” Peyton said from the hallway. I guessed she wasn’t ready to cross the threshold of her parent’s room either.
“I’m okay, pumpkin. Just tripped.”
“Do I need to get Auntie Kate to help you up?” she asked sweetly.
“That’s okay. Auntie Kate is on a work call. I can get up on my own,” I reassured her. The kids knew about my leg because they were there as Beth and Will helped me through rehabilitation. They had been the best support system a guy could ask for. I didn’t want Kate to know just yet. I wouldn’t be able to stand the look of pity I was sure would be there when she did.
“Okay.” I could hear her quiet footsteps as she walked down the hall.
Turning my head, I noticed a small box underneath a shoe shelf at the bottom of the closet. Picking it up I looked at a brand new phone with Peyton’s name written on it. I put the box back and made a mental note to call and have it activated on my account. Both Beth and Will’s phones had been disconnected, and I’d switched April’s phone to my plan shortly after they passed.
Figuring the phone was meant to be a Christmas present, it gave me an idea. I’d need Kate’s help to pull it off, but I was sure that she would love it.
I got up carefully making sure nothing was wrong with my prosthetic and went in search of Kate. If she liked my idea, we needed a plan, and fast.