Matthew 35
“Mama!” David whines as I hold him in my arms, rocking him like I used to do in the middle of the night when he was just an infant. Now, I’m resting my head against his as he cries. He’s the only person on this earth who can bring me any solace right now. And clarity. This isn’t just about me bringing my wife home safely, it’s about bringing David’s mother back to him.
“I know, baby,” I murmur, holding him even tighter. I look up when I hear a quiet knock from the doorway to the nursery. It’s Trudy.
“Matthew, may I come in?”
“Of course.”
She comes in and sits in the armchair next to his crib.
“I’m so sorry …” she begins.
I shake my head. I know this can’t be easy for her either.
“Please, Trudy. This isn’t your fault any more than it’s Natalie’s.”
She doesn’t respond at first, only looks down at her hands, folded in her lap.
“It took a while for us to see it, Matthew. Danny and I … we couldn’t believe … we didn’t want to believe that our child was …was …” She has trouble finding the word.
“Mentally ill?” I offer softly.
“A monster,” she corrects me.
Holy shit. Well, there’s some self-awareness for you.
“I should’ve done something sooner, before it got to this point,” she explains. “But, I was selfish, Matthew. I wanted Jeremy out of my house. I wanted him out of our lives. It didn’t occur to me that it might be my job to …”
“To what, Trudy? To beat it out of him? Have him committed to some mental institution? There isn’t a damn thing you could have done to prevent him from becoming who he is,” I assure her, trying to assuage her guilt.
But, guilt is not the emotion I see on Trudy Corrigan’s face. No, it’s more like regret. Regret for things left undone that have now come back to haunt her. I can tell she’s about to respond, when Brett sticks his head in.
“Hey, so, I’ve been thinking, it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to get David out of here.”
“Surely you don’t think your brother’s going to come back for him …” Trudy gapes, looking from her son, to her sleeping grandson, and back again.
“I don’t know what to think as far as Jeremy’s concerned,” he admits. “But, Matthew, you need every bit of energy you have right now, and I don’t think you’ll be able to give it your full attention until you know that David is somewhere safe.”
He’s absolutely right. I look to Trudy.
“What can I do?” she offers without hesitation.
I stand up and walk to the crib, putting David down, and then turn to face her.
“Trudy, will you please stay with him? Will you take him to our house on Long Island? It’s far enough out of the city that we won’t have to worry about him being anywhere near Jeremy.”
“Yes, Matthew, of course.”
“Mom,” Brett says, picking up where I’ve left off, “There’s a midnight train out of Penn Station. You’ll have to take a cab there, and then another one to the house when you arrive. Are you okay with that?”
She raises an irritated eyebrow at him.
“Brett, I’ve been wrangling five-year-olds for more than twenty years. I think I can manage to get in and out of a couple of cabs with a sleeping baby.”
For the first time in hours, I find my lips twitching with the hint of a smile.
“You two go do what you need to do, I’m going to pack a few things for him. Are there any bottles made up, Matthew?”
“Uh, yes, in the fridge. I’ll pack them in the insulated bag. You can load it all into his stroller. As soon as you’re ready, I’ll call downstairs and they’ll hail a cab. I’ll go get you a key and write the address for you. His nursery is upstairs, just turn left at the top and go down to the end of the hall. He’ll probably sleep the entire way,” I assure her, getting up to set this plan in motion.
She nods, and I follow Brett out into the hall.
“Okay, that’s David squared away, he says. “What the fuck do we do now?”
I look at him for a long moment before speaking.
“We do exactly what Jeremy told us to do. We wait.”