Chapter Nineteen

Quinn

That dumbass.

I can still feel the steam coming out of my nostrils as I search my drawers for something small enough for Marianne to wear.

I should have packed some of her clothes when I brought her home with me, but I wasn't thinking and I was in a hurry to get out of that house.

No. I didn't run away. Eli sent me away. And Marianne wanted to come with me. I couldn't refuse her when I completely understood why.

She's scared. Of course she is. She was already scared when she broke the pot, because she knew even without anyone telling her that it was special. And then Eli arrived and yelled at her.

How could he scare his own daughter like that, or look at her like she was some pest or some criminal? Yes, she broke the teapot, but she didn't mean to. It slipped from her little hands. And yes, it might have been expensive, but it was still just a teapot. Was it more important than his daughter?

I'm more frustrated because I know the answer.

That teapot, along with everything else in that room, is important to Eli, and not because of the price tag but because it was hers.

Meredith's.

And yes, I can understand that. I can understand him wanting to preserve everything in that room, even though it hurts. But why keep his daughter away? Meredith was her mother. Marianne has a right to be in that room.

"Stupid Eli," I mutter under my breath as I go through another pile of shirts.

Finally, I find a red one that looks like it will fit Marianne's small frame.

I bring the shirt over to her. She's still curled up under the blanket on my bed, a pillow clutched between her arms. She may have stopped crying, but I can tell she's still upset.

I run my hands through her hair. "Would you like to change your shirt? I found one that might fit you."

As Marianne glances at me, I hold the red shirt up. That gets her to sit up. She must like the swirls of gold on it. I take off her shirt, which is stained with tears and snot, and put mine on her.

"Now, that's better."

I take a good look at her after I toss her dirty shirt into the laundry basket. The sleeves are still a little too long, but the neckline is right.

Marianne lies back down on the bed. She hugs the pillow once more.

"Does Daddy love me?"

The question takes me by surprise.

"Of course." I tuck strands of hair behind her ear. "I'm sure no one loves you more than your daddy does."

"But he's angry at me all the time." Marianne pouts.

"Not all the time. Remember the times he tucked you into bed or played with you?"

"He never played with me when we were... well, not here yet."

Her words tug at my heart. "That's because he was busy with work, sweetheart. But hey, look at the two of you now."

"But he just got mad at me again. And he broke the teapot. You said we were going to try to put it back together, but he broke it some more."

I pull her into my arms. "I'm afraid some things can't be put back the way they were. That's just life, sweetheart."

"I didn't mean to break it."

I squeeze her tight. "I know."

"Then why did he have to be so angry?"

I stroke her back. "I'm sure he didn't mean to shout at you, just like you didn't mean to break that teapot. It's just that sometimes, we... lose control. We make mistakes. We're only human, after all."

Marianne shakes her head. "I don't like Daddy anymore."

I still at the words. I'm frustrated with Eli, too, but I still can't stand to hear Marianne say such a thing.

I grasp her chin gently. "Marianne, I know you're upset right now. And scared. But trust me, your Daddy loves you. He's just... hurting right now."

"Hurting?" I see the confusion in her blue eyes.

"Someday you'll understand." I stroke her cheek. "Someday, your daddy will tell you everything. For now, I just want you to believe that your daddy loves you in spite of everything. And he may be hurting now, but he'll be fine. And the two of you will be happy again."

Marianne says nothing. Does she believe me? I don't know. But I can't force her to. I've done all I can.

I let Marianne lie down. "Now, get some rest. You must be tired after all that crying. And you haven't had your nap yet. I'll bring you something to eat later."

She nods as she wraps her arms around the pillow. I pull the blanket over her, then I leave the room and go downstairs.

"How is Marianne?" Clive asks me when I get to the living room.

He saw how upset she was.

I pat his head. "She's resting now. I'm sure she'll be fine."

"What will you do if Mr. Eli comes and gets her?"

I shrug. "I don't know, Clive. I'll think about it when that happens."

Actually, I'm hoping he'll calm down and then get her, but I don't think that's going to happen soon. I know from growing up around boys that men take longer to get over their emotions.

I leave him in the living room and go to the kitchen. Steven glances at me as he drinks a glass of water. My mother looks up from the mixing bowl in her hand.

"Are you alright?" she asks.

I pull out a chair and sit down. "I'm just tired."

"What happened?" Steven asks.

"Marianne broke one of Meredith's old teapots and Eli threw a fit," I answer.

Steven frowns. "And I was beginning to think he wasn't so bad."

"He's not a bad person," my mother says. "He probably just misses his wife."

"How long has it been since she died?" Steven asks.

"About five years," I answer. "Meredith died shortly after Marianne was born."

"Five years. And he's still not over it."

"Your dad has been gone for twenty-four years and not a day goes by that I don't miss him," my mother says. "You never get over losing someone you love."

"I know," I say. "I still miss Charlie. But I didn't keep any of his things."

"I still have your dad's favorite shirt."

"But that's all. You should have seen Meredith's old room. It's like a shrine, a museum. Everything she had as a child is still there, and Eli doesn't want anyone touching it."

"Well, people deal with grief in different ways," my mom says with a sigh. "And some people take longer to snap out of their grief than others."

"I understand grief, Mom. I'm not saying it's wrong. But he has a daughter who needs him, a daughter who doesn't even know why he's grieving."

"Eli didn't tell his daughter how his wife died?" Steven asks.

I shake my head. "I don't think so. I don't think he's ever talked to Marianne about her."

"Poor girl." My mother frowns. "And poor Eli."

"Poor Eli?" Steven's eyebrows arch.

"It's much harder to grieve alone," my mother explains. "And it sounds like Eli has been doing that all this time."

"That's because he chooses to be alone," I say.

"Shouldn't you go to him?" my mother suggests. "Doesn't he need a friend now more than ever?"

"He sent me away, Mom."

She gives another sigh as she gazes out the window. "Then maybe he hasn't realized it yet, but he will, and when he does, you have to help him."

"Me?"

Frankly, I'm not sure how I can help. Is there a way to help someone who doesn't want to let go of his past?

~

"There must be something you can do," Janice tells me when she comes over to bring Marianne's clothes. Anxiety floods her eyes. "At least you can try and talk to him. He hasn't left that room since yesterday, and the last time I peeked, I saw blood."

Blood?

"Please, Quinn." Janice clasps my hands between hers. "If anyone can get through to him, it's you."

Me? I have a feeling only Meredith's ghost could. Still, Janice is right. I have to try. I knew Eli would sulk, but to think that he's still in that room? Has he gone mad? What if he tries to kill himself?

I can't lose my son's father, not when he hasn't had a chance to know him yet.

"Quinn." My mother places a hand on my shoulder. "You have to go."

I nod. "Alright. I'll do my best."

~

Just as Janice said, I find Eli still inside that room. He's sitting on the edge of the bed. As I walk towards him, I can see the rings under his eyes from lack of sleep. I see the bloody shard of porcelain on the floor and my heart stops. Then I see his roughly bandaged hand and I feel relieved. At least he wasn't trying to kill himself. And yet he has the eyes of a dying man. Empty.

It makes my chest tight, but I take a deep breath as I kneel in front of him.

"Eli."

He lifts his head slowly and a light flickers in those empty eyes. Good. There's hope. But I can also see the anguish in those dark brown pools.

"What are you doing here?" he asks hoarsely.

At least he doesn't seem angry anymore.

"I know you don't want me to be here." I sit back on my legs. "But I'm worried about you, Eli. We all are."

He looks away.

"I know you're hurting - "

"You don't know anything," he cuts me off. "No one knows what the hell I've been going through."

"Then tell me about it." I move closer to him. "Whatever you're going through, you don't have to go through it alone. I'm here."

I try to touch his hand, but he pulls it away.

"You wouldn't understand."

"I know I'm not that smart, but I've experienced loss too, remember? I told you about Charlie."

Eli shakes his head. "It's not the same."

"How is it not the same?"

He doesn't answer.

I frown. "Are you saying I didn't love Charlie as much as you loved Meredith? That's not fair. I told you how close we were. I told you I - "

"But it wasn't your fault he died," Eli raises his voice a notch. "You didn't kill Charlie."

My eyebrows rise. "And you think you killed your wife?"

"I don't think. I did. I killed her."

"Nonsense. She died after Marianne was born, right?"

"And whose fault was that?" He looks into my eyes. "Whose fault was it that Marianne was born?" He looks away. "If only I had been more careful. If only she had never been born."

My legs straighten out under me. My palm falls on his cheek like a whip. The crack echoes through the room.

He rubs his palm and narrows his eyes at me. "How - ?"

"How dare you say such things!" I stand in front of him with fists clenched. "How dare you wish someone's life away? And your own daughter's, no less. Do you really think that's what Meredith would want?"

"She told me herself that everything was my fault. Just before she died."

"I don't believe it." I shake my head. "That's just your guilt talking. And you know why you feel guilty? It's not because it's your fault. It's simply because you miss her so much that you wish you could bring her back. But you can't. You miss her so much you wish you could turn back time. But you can't. And so you think back on the time when she was still around and wish there was something you could have done so she would never have had to go. You wish there was because you'd rather do that than feel so helpless. But that's just how it is. We are all helpless in the face of death."

But Eli doesn't seem to be listening. Or he doesn't want to. He places his hands on the sides of his face as he bows his head. "It's all my fault."

I feel like slapping him again. "You didn't do anything. And there's nothing you could have done. So there's no reason to be guilty. To insist on guilt is to refuse to let go. And Eli, you have to let her go."

Eli lifts his head. Just like yesterday, I see the anger in his eyes.

"Are you telling me to just pretend everything's alright? Are you telling me to forget her?"

"I didn't say any of those things. I'm just saying you should try to live your life, both for your sake and hers. If you're not at peace, how can she be at peace?"

He gets off the bed and grabs the front of my shirt. "How can you presume to know how she feels? You don't know her."

"Maybe not, but I know she loved you. And I feel the same way."

Those words escape my lips before I can think, but I don't regret them, nor do I feel like taking them back. I simply look into Eli's eyes as I wait for them to sink into his mind.

When they do, his eyes narrow. "You're only saying that because you want to save me. But I can't be saved."

"Anyone can be saved if they want to be."

He snorts. "Who's trying to act high and mighty now?"

He lets go of my shirt and gives me a push. I stumble against the shelf behind me. It quakes and a hatbox falls to the floor. The lid comes off and its contents spill.

I kneel down and try to pick it up at the same time Eli does. I stop as my gaze falls on one of the envelopes. He stops as well as he picks it up and reads the words on it.

To my future child.

There's also one addressed to her parents and one more addressed 'to the man I'll marry'.

I gather the two envelopes in one hand. "She must have written these when she was younger." Not a child, because the handwriting is already neat, but maybe a teenager. "But why?"

"Her health was frail even then," Eli answers. "Ever since birth."

"Then she must have known there was a chance she'd die young." I hand him the letter addressed to her future husband. "You should read this. You should listen to what she has to say."

He takes the envelope but doesn't open it.

I stand up. "I can leave if you - "

"Stay."

I obey the command.

"I want you to read it." He hands the envelope back to me.

I look at it with wide eyes. "Me?"

"Please."

I nod. I sit on the carpet and open the envelope carefully. I pull out the sheet of pink paper that's inside and unfold it.

"My love." I try to still my shaking hands and my trembling voice. "Thank you for marrying me. If I married you, it must be because I love you, and if I love you, then you must love me. Thank you for that. I don't know how long our life together will last. If it's too short, I apologize..."

I pause as I hear Eli suck in a breath.

"I don't know if we will have children, but if we do, then I will be very happy. I've always wanted children. I feel sad about leaving them behind, but at least I'll leave a part of myself behind, too, right? And I know you will take good care of them."

I swallow the lump in my throat.

"But this letter is for you. I want you to take care of yourself. If you're sad, remember the happy times we had. If you're lonely, remember that I loved you. I'm sorry for leaving you..." My voice quivers all the more. "And I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but if I may have one wish for you, then I wish for you to be happy. Smile for me."

I look up to see tears brimming in Eli's eyes. I can feel them in mine, too, but I keep going.

"Laugh for me. Love for me. Live for me. You've made me so happy by marrying me. Be happy and make others happy. And then I can smile as I watch over you. For I always will." I swallow again. "I will always be with you. Love, Merry."

As I set the piece of paper down, a tear trickles down my cheek. It lands on the letter on my lap. I look at Eli and see tears streaming down his face as well. He buries his face in his hands.

"Merry," he whispers as his shoulders begin to shake.

I set the letter aside and go to him so I can wrap my arms around him as he finally breaks down.