Six Feet Under the Stars

Reilly pulled her car into the parking lot and sighed. She knew better than to drive when she was angry; knew better than to drive when she had had a drink, no matter how little. She could feel the heavy, brown liquid sloshing about her stomach and in the back of her mouth there was an acrid, bitter taste. She wondered if that was the booze as well.

At the top of the stairs, Reilly waited patiently to be buzzed and then climbed the stairs. Her sister met her at the top of them, looking haggard and pallid. Her eyes, normally a bright blue, were dulled and sleepy. Reilly sighed.

“I’m sorry I woke you.”

“You didn’t, the baby thought it would be a great idea to force my supper back up through my throat.”

Reilly wrinkled her nose. “Pleasant.”

“It really is. So, sis, what brings you here?” Jacqueline led the way back into the flat and sank into an old looking couch. Its colouring was faded and a few tears lined the cushions but like the rest of the apartment it held a tolerable living environment. Reilly hovered for a few moments before she, too, sunk into the seat.

“I don’t honestly know. There are probably a million other places I could have gone.”

Jacque’s spine stiffened significantly and Reilly held back a sigh. She’d never been great to her sister but once Jacqueline had inherited her mother’s spiteful mannerisms, it was hard for Reilly to accept her. Not to mention the fact that Jacque was responsible, if only indirectly, for her family’s break up.

“Jack was there.”

“Jesus, Jack Barakat?” Jacque rubbed her stomach. “He used to follow you around like a puppy.”

“Like Hell he did,” Reilly scoffed. Jack had never followed her; he wasn’t the type. He’d bounced alongside her hyperactively until he’d gotten bored of her.

“Whatever, Reils. He loved you.”

“Exactly, he loved me, Jacque. Past tense.”

Her sister sighed, shifting on the couch to increase her comfort. Reilly wondered how far along she was. Her stomach was only slightly rounded but she had always been skinny. Jacqueline rubbed her stomach again, “Sure.”

“If dad hadn’t have…if he wasn’t…would you have called about your baby?”

“Yes. This baby is really changing me, Reilly. I wish you could feel it like I do. I can’t be my mom. I can’t tear apart and family and I wouldn’t have forced this child on Davis if he didn’t want it, too. I want this kid to be loved and I think its Aunt Reilly can love it.”

Reilly choked on whatever it was she was going to say in response. She’d never considered, not for a second, that this child would become a part of her life too. To her it wasn’t even a child, it was a thing that would wreak havoc on two teenagers’ lives. But the truth was that this child was her niece or nephew. Could she love it? Would she love it? Jacque looked at her expectantly.

“Shit,” was all she could breathe out.

XXX

Hunched in a chair in the hospital, Reilly tugged her hood up to cover her face. She was waiting for her turn to visit her father. He still hadn’t woken up and the doctors were starting to worry. Tests and scans were being run, vitals were being monitored. Reilly couldn’t remember a time when she felt so low, not even when Jack had stomped all over her heart; such a frail heart.

“Your grandpa will be okay,” she heard Jacqueline whisper from her left. Her hand caressed her stomach gently, cradling the baby inside it protectively. “He’s going to love you and spoil you. He’s good at that.”

Reilly couldn’t even summon the energy to snipe at her half-sister. She’d grown a little more tolerable of Jacqueline since spending the night at her rundown apartment, perhaps a little more sympathetic towards her situation but she wondered if that was why she couldn’t get angry. Maybe Reilly had finally deadened on the inside.

“God, you look like shit.”

Reilly didn’t look up. “Your words are a comfort, Hans, thanks.”

Hannah dropped into the seat beside her and nudged at Reilly until she finally snapped her eyes off the coffee machine. She blinked, hazel eyes bloodshot and bruised.

“He’s sorry.”

“Fuck off.”

“Reils-”

“No, Hannah, I’m serious,” she deadpanned. “If you bring it up again, you can fuck off.”

Hannah leaned back into her chair with a sigh. Jacqueline peeked around Reilly’s shoulders. “Dad still hasn’t woken up,” she informed Hannah. “The started doing MRI scans and stuff. I, um, we’re worried. The doctors are worried.”

Reilly was staring at the coffee machine again, though it held no real fascination to her. It just didn’t hold emotions, either. The machine triggered no impending doom or a fear that wouldn’t dissipate. It dispensed shit tasting coffee and Reilly could just about deal with that with her lack of feelings.

“He’ll be okay. Your dad was a fighter like that.”

Reilly’s head slumped onto her knees, where they were drawn to her chest. Her dad wasn’t a fighter, she thought. He ran from his life with her mother, what if he ran from life altogether this time? She closed her eyes, willing the sadness to overwhelm her. Instead, all she could feel was numb.

Jasmine stormed out of her father’s hospital room. “Your turn,” she spat at Reilly. Reilly unhinged herself slowly, Hannah hovering by her side lest her muscles fail her. Reilly shrugged her off and made her way to the hospital bed where she adopted the same position she’d held before.

And, finally, her dams broke. Reilly sobbed into her knees as her father’s machine beeped out each weak beat of his heart.