Chapter Two
The living room light shone through the rain as Jessica pulled into the drive of her two-story home on Jenson Street.
She put the small SUV in park, switched off the engine, and leaned her head against the seat back to listen to the storm.
Owen would be up; no doubt worried sick. He’d been calling her every ten minutes since she’d practically ran from Dr. Knox’s office earlier that afternoon.
Jessica had driven around for hours in the freezing weather, weeping, until she’d found herself at the cemetery kneeling in front of her son’s grave.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed with her begging Jacob to forgive her for not being there for him when the sky had opened up and unleashed its fury.
Still, she had remained on her knees, her tears mixing with the pouring rain to spill onto Jacob’s grave.
A knock sounded on the driver’s side window, startling her out of her reflecting. She snatched up her purse, removed the keys from the ignition, and opened the car door.
“I’ve been worried sick,” Owen yelled over the thunder and lightning, white puffs of smoke bursting from his mouth.
He held an umbrella in his hand, which he promptly moved above the open door. “It’s freezing out here!”
Jessica climbed out; cold, wet and mentally numb. She handed the keys to Owen and heard more than saw him close the door to the SUV before allowing him to lead her shivering body inside the house.
He guided her up the stairs and into the master bathroom.
The shower came on a moment later, and the warmth of rising steam filled the room.
“Let’s get you out of these wet clothes.” Owen moved in close and began unbuttoning her soaked blouse.
Jessica stood perfectly still while her husband worked on disrobing her. “Can you get me my pills?”
He hesitated, his fingers on the button of her jeans. “How many have you had today?”
Indignation reared its head. “Do I ask you how many drinks you have a day?”
He stared down at her from his taller height of six feet two. “No. That would mean you actually cared.”
Jessica looked away, unable to deal with another ounce of guilt without crumbling under its weight.
“I’m sorry, Jess. I shouldn’t have said that. Let’s get you into the shower and then I’ll grab your pills.”
“Thank you,” was all she could manage, stepping out of her wet jeans and climbing into the shower.
The hot water felt good on her chilled flesh. She shuddered in relief as warmth seeped into her body, forcing back the cold and relaxing her tense muscles.
“Did you eat today?” Owen called out from the bathroom doorway.
Jessica couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. Though she had no appetite even now, she knew she needed food in order to take her meds without hallucinating. “No, I didn’t.”
There was a brief pause and then, “I put you a plate in the microwave after dinner tonight. I’ll just warm it up.”
She wanted to thank him but couldn’t conjure up the energy to do so. The door clicked shut a second later.
Jessica finished her shower, dressed in a warm nightgown, and made her way downstairs on wooden legs.
A plate of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans sat on the table next to a glass of tea and two small, white pills. Owen was nowhere in sight.
The sounds of the television spilled from the living room as Jessica took a seat and picked up her drink. She grabbed the two pills, tossed them into her mouth and then chased them down with a drink of her tea.
Swallowing the food proved harder than she’d imagined, but she forced down several bites out of necessity.
Owen’s handsome face appeared around the wall. “Do you need anything?”
“I’m good. What are you watching?” He really is handsome, Jessica thought, taking in his dark, tousled hair and light blue eyes. More guilt assailed her.
He stepped into the dining room, his glass of wine in hand, and took a seat across from her at the table. “Just the local news. It’s supposed to rain on into tomorrow.”
“I wasn’t planning on going out anywhere.” She took another bite of her meatloaf.
Owen gazed down into his glass of wine. “You could try painting again. You haven’t picked up a paintbrush since before… “
“You can say it, Owen. Since before Jacob died.”
He seemed to ignore her jab. “We need to talk about Florida, Jess.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m not selling this house, and I’m not packing up Jacob’s things as if he never existed.”
Without looking up from the contents of his glass, Owen asked, “Would you be willing to go if we didn’t sell the house?”
“How could we afford to move without selling?”
Owen looked up. “We’ll dip into our savings and take out a loan against my retirement if necessary.”
Anxiety surfaced at the thought of not having access to Jacob’s room…his things. Deep down, Jessica understood that Owen was attempting to help her, knew that moving was the right thing to do. But she couldn’t bring herself to agree. “I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I ask.” Owen got to his feet. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Jessica watched him go in a daze as the effects of her medication began to take hold. She briefly closed her eyes, grateful for the slight numbness the drugs always gave her.
She pushed her plate aside, picked up Owen’s half empty glass of wine, and took a sip. The tangy liquid slid down her throat, numbing her even more.
Taking the glass with her, Jessica stood and carried her plate to the kitchen. She scraped off the excess food into the trashcan and loaded the plate into the dishwasher.
After downing the glass of wine, she picked up the bottle sitting on the counter and made her way upstairs to Jacob’s room.
The door stood ajar, just as she’d left it the night before. She pushed it open and stepped inside.
As with every other visit to her son’s bedroom, the longing to see him curled up in bed overtook her.
She swallowed back her tears, took another drink of wine, and moved to stand in front of Jacob’s dresser.
The same dirty shirt he’d worn over three years ago lay draped over the dresser top exactly as it always had. She picked it up and brought it to her nose.
Jacob’s scent had long since disappeared, leaving a hole in Jessica’s heart to rival the one in her soul.
She glanced around the room, the tears she’d tried to hold back now spilling down her cheeks. Could she really move to Florida and leave Jacob behind?
Turning to replace the small shirt onto the dresser, Jessica caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Even in the oversized nightgown, she looked rail thin. She was slowly grieving herself to death and destroying her marriage in the process. If she hadn’t already…