‹ Prequel: Freefall
Status: Complete
Plummet
17
By the time the initial shock wore off and I once again was aware of my surroundings, the cops had long since arrived. Embry sat talking with one in the living room, with me still cradled on his lap.
“I came over to see Remy like I usually do when she’s getting home from work and found the door like that,” he was saying, gesturing towards the front door. “I went into the house. I had to make sure she was okay. It was empty, except for… I called 9-1-1. Then she got home.” It was a tidy way of explaining things, I thought, glad Embry had spoken with the cops before I did. I would hardly have known where to begin, having to leave out the supernatural.
“Is that what happened, miss?” I nodded woodenly.
After the cops told us we were allowed to go, Embry took me straight to Sam’s house. Everyone was gathered there already, waiting for us.
Lydia rushed out of the door as soon as we pulled into the driveway. “Remy! I’m so sorry about your dad.” She opened the car door for me and the instant I was standing, threw her arms around me. Kim came out, too, and joined the hug.
I was touched, but I was having trouble processing anything just then. It was like something in me had put up a defensive wall around my heart and had frozen my brain.
Good thing, too. I didn’t know how to handle grief. No one I’d ever cared about had died. What can be done against this crushing weight that was pressing on my chest? These hands gripping at my heart and mercilessly twisting?
Maybe that shield wasn’t working so well, after all.
We went inside and I curled up against Embry on the couch. Something about his arms locked around me, his eyes watching me, trying to see my grief, absorbing it, even, kept me grounded.
The rest of our friends sat around us. “What happened?” I asked, unable to stop myself.
Though my voice was quiet, I knew they’d all heard me. It was like everyone held their breath for a moment. No one was willing to speak. “Embry?” I asked.
Embry opened his mouth, shut it. Sam gave him a kind look and jumped in. “The sucker, we’ve been trying to chase it out of town for about a week now. Embry nearly caught it yesterday. It came after him. He spends so much time at your house… it’s not surprising that it ended up there. We’re just lucky that you’re okay.”
“My dad isn’t,” I reminded him. Silence fell again.
In the days before I was allowed back home, I stayed with Lydia. Emily and Sam would have welcomed me, but they were newly married and I didn’t want to intrude on that. And Embry… well, I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. I knew he wouldn’t, but a little caution never hurt anyone.
Archie was missing. He’d run away when the door was left open, and no one had seen him since. I went to the house every day, setting out a bowl of dog food on the sidewalk in front of it, just in case he came back. I couldn’t have him starve.
I cleaned every inch of Lydia’s house in those three days. It was a good way to cope, cleaning. Something to keep busy. Embry followed me around most of the time, and even had to take away my scrubby brush once to get my attention. I felt bad, but he was worrying far too much.
Couldn’t he see that I was fine? That I was handling it? That I’d strengthened my defenses against the hurt? I only cried when I woke up and remembered all over again that Dad was gone forever now. It was getting easier.
Still, busy hands didn’t keep thoughts from flowing freely. I didn’t know my dad very well. That tormented me. Now I never would. I’d started getting to know him in the month and a half that had passed since I’d come to live with him, but not very well. Most of my time had been spent working, or with Embry. I’d only seen Dad when our paths crossed or when we ate dinner.
I thought of a million questions I should have asked him, but never had. How did he and Mom meet? What were his parents like? What did he dream of? Was he happy with his life? Did he fear death?
And then there was the guilt that weighed on me every moment of the day. If I’d never come here, if I’d never met Embry, Dad would still be alive. And I felt even guiltier because I couldn’t regret it. I felt like a terrible person because I realized that, if I could go back, I would still have moved in, I would still have chosen Embry. What kind of daughter was I?
And another personal torment was wondering, what would I give up for more time with him? A year of my life? Five? And what about people? Would I give up having met Lydia? And how much money was it worth to me?
No matter how I answered those questions, it always seemed wrong.
Still, the sadness of it I was managing. Dad wouldn’t want me sad, I told myself. That helped, if only marginally.
“I came over to see Remy like I usually do when she’s getting home from work and found the door like that,” he was saying, gesturing towards the front door. “I went into the house. I had to make sure she was okay. It was empty, except for… I called 9-1-1. Then she got home.” It was a tidy way of explaining things, I thought, glad Embry had spoken with the cops before I did. I would hardly have known where to begin, having to leave out the supernatural.
“Is that what happened, miss?” I nodded woodenly.
After the cops told us we were allowed to go, Embry took me straight to Sam’s house. Everyone was gathered there already, waiting for us.
Lydia rushed out of the door as soon as we pulled into the driveway. “Remy! I’m so sorry about your dad.” She opened the car door for me and the instant I was standing, threw her arms around me. Kim came out, too, and joined the hug.
I was touched, but I was having trouble processing anything just then. It was like something in me had put up a defensive wall around my heart and had frozen my brain.
Good thing, too. I didn’t know how to handle grief. No one I’d ever cared about had died. What can be done against this crushing weight that was pressing on my chest? These hands gripping at my heart and mercilessly twisting?
Maybe that shield wasn’t working so well, after all.
We went inside and I curled up against Embry on the couch. Something about his arms locked around me, his eyes watching me, trying to see my grief, absorbing it, even, kept me grounded.
The rest of our friends sat around us. “What happened?” I asked, unable to stop myself.
Though my voice was quiet, I knew they’d all heard me. It was like everyone held their breath for a moment. No one was willing to speak. “Embry?” I asked.
Embry opened his mouth, shut it. Sam gave him a kind look and jumped in. “The sucker, we’ve been trying to chase it out of town for about a week now. Embry nearly caught it yesterday. It came after him. He spends so much time at your house… it’s not surprising that it ended up there. We’re just lucky that you’re okay.”
“My dad isn’t,” I reminded him. Silence fell again.
In the days before I was allowed back home, I stayed with Lydia. Emily and Sam would have welcomed me, but they were newly married and I didn’t want to intrude on that. And Embry… well, I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. I knew he wouldn’t, but a little caution never hurt anyone.
Archie was missing. He’d run away when the door was left open, and no one had seen him since. I went to the house every day, setting out a bowl of dog food on the sidewalk in front of it, just in case he came back. I couldn’t have him starve.
I cleaned every inch of Lydia’s house in those three days. It was a good way to cope, cleaning. Something to keep busy. Embry followed me around most of the time, and even had to take away my scrubby brush once to get my attention. I felt bad, but he was worrying far too much.
Couldn’t he see that I was fine? That I was handling it? That I’d strengthened my defenses against the hurt? I only cried when I woke up and remembered all over again that Dad was gone forever now. It was getting easier.
Still, busy hands didn’t keep thoughts from flowing freely. I didn’t know my dad very well. That tormented me. Now I never would. I’d started getting to know him in the month and a half that had passed since I’d come to live with him, but not very well. Most of my time had been spent working, or with Embry. I’d only seen Dad when our paths crossed or when we ate dinner.
I thought of a million questions I should have asked him, but never had. How did he and Mom meet? What were his parents like? What did he dream of? Was he happy with his life? Did he fear death?
And then there was the guilt that weighed on me every moment of the day. If I’d never come here, if I’d never met Embry, Dad would still be alive. And I felt even guiltier because I couldn’t regret it. I felt like a terrible person because I realized that, if I could go back, I would still have moved in, I would still have chosen Embry. What kind of daughter was I?
And another personal torment was wondering, what would I give up for more time with him? A year of my life? Five? And what about people? Would I give up having met Lydia? And how much money was it worth to me?
No matter how I answered those questions, it always seemed wrong.
Still, the sadness of it I was managing. Dad wouldn’t want me sad, I told myself. That helped, if only marginally.