Some Days

Each hour that passed without any sort of news broke my spirit. Soon I was a wordless, motionless mess that refused to leave the chair at my mother’s bedside. Regan slept, on and off, in my lap. I couldn’t sleep. John wouldn’t leave unless I did, so he took up residence on the couch across the room. Payton had gone back to the house to make sure it hadn’t burned down – or something to that effect. I had hardly heard her.

“Babe,” John groaned as he woke up. I looked at him. My eyes were heavy from lack of sleep but there was nothing I could do about it. My stomach had stopped growling hours ago and gave up signaling my brain to eat. He sighed, sat up, and stared at me. “Please, please let me take you home. You are exhausted.”

I looked at my mother. She looked so peaceful. My father was sound asleep on her other side, slumped in a chair much like myself. My lip quivered as my eyes fell back on John, now making his way over to me.

“I just don’t want to miss anything,” I whispered.

He lifted Regan from my lap and folded her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. He steadied her with one arm then held his other out for me to take. I took one last glance at my mother before I allowed him to help me up.

In a matter of minutes, we were seated in his white pickup, Regan once again curled up in my lap. He held my hand as I absently stared out the window. It was a weird sensation to feel this much of a void after being gone for so long. All of the guilt and longing piled up and seemed to be imploding. All of the missed birthdays and Christmases and Thanksgiving meals and trips to the movie theater to see the newest movies – I would never be able to get any of those lost memories back. I had no chance to make up for the years I had been gone.

You never know what you have until it’s gone, that much is true. But when you’re aware of what you’re losing, as it’s being taken from you – nothing prepares you for that.

I wasn’t surprised when we arrived at John’s house. I somehow managed to get myself out of the truck, while still holding onto Regan, and made my way inside the front door without any additional help from John. I paused in the doorway and John had to shuffle around me. He closed the door and asked, in a hushed voice, if I was okay. I was doing fine until I heard Jenny’s voice, concerned and motherly and overall worried about his well-being.

“John? Where have you been? I haven’t heard from you and Kennedy said you were at the hospital but he wouldn’t tell me why. I was worried sick! And you wouldn’t answer your phone,” she rambled. John stepped toward her, revealing me to her. “Is that- is that Nolan? Nolan, sweetheart, you look terrible. What happened?”

Tears welled in my eyes. I couldn’t bring myself to answer her as I tightened my grip on Regan. John glanced over his shoulder at me, nodded up the stairs, then turned back to his mother. I numbly took the stairs but could hear his voice in low rumbles, explaining it all to her.

After settling Regan in John’s bed, I dragged myself to his bathroom to shower and make myself feel somewhat better. I scrubbed every inch of my skin until it burned and washed my hair three times. I washed my face and scrubbed under my nails. Then I stood under the hot water, face tilted into the spray, and tried to remember how to breathe.

When my skin turned hot, I brought my hands up and covered my face, but didn’t move my body from under the showerhead. Every emotion I had ever felt kept imploding and my brain was dragging up memories I had locked away for five years. Baking with my mom, grocery shopping, going to the bookstore and reading to each other, laughing in the park, going to jogs every now and again, sitting around bonfires in the back yard as she cuddled with dad and I cuddled with John. Although it was painful, I could feel myself lighten up the longer I stood in that shower. Maybe remembering her was a good thing.

After another ten minutes, I exhaled a deep sigh and ran my hands through my hair, exposing my face to the now-cold water. I turned the water off and stepped out. It took me nearly as long to dry myself off and gather the energy to rummage through John’s drawers for some clean clothes.

Donned in a pair of his sweatpants and one of his old, ratty band shirts, I quietly made my way downstairs. I knew Jenny would have more questions than John could answer on his own and I felt it was my responsibility to answer them instead of leaving the burden to John.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a daughter, John O’Callaghan? Do you understand how serious this situation is?” Jenny snapped. “This isn’t playing house. You can’t break up and make up all you want anymore. You can’t party and make music and tour and do all those wonderful things anymore!”

“Mom-”

“No, you listen to me, young man,” she demanded, causing him to recoil slightly. “This is a child we’re talking about, do you understand? You and Nolan are soul mates; I can see that – anyone can see that. But everything changes when babies happen.”

“I’ve been without Nolan for five years, mom,” he explained. “I’ve missed out on so much already. I can’t let her go again.”

“We aren’t just talking about Nolan anymore, John,” Jenny reminded him. “That little girl needs to be a higher priority than Nolan ever was to you. And you’ve failed her for five years. Five years and you had no idea she even existed. I know how ruined you were when she left but you need to assess the damage.”

I peered around the edge of the staircase and into the living room, where the two of them still stood. Jenny looked insanely hurt and offended that she hadn’t known about Regan. I couldn’t blame her for her anger but she couldn’t blame John for being in the dark. I couldn’t let her blame him.

“Mom, if I had known, I obviously would have told you and found her and made everything right five years ago,” he sighed. Frustrated, he gripped at the ends of his messy hair. “I’m not mad at her, okay? She kept that secret so that I could have the opportunity to do all of the wonderful things I’ve been able to do. But that little girl needs me now, and I know how serious it is. I know I can’t promise to be there for her and then disappear for eleven and a half months. I fucking know that, mom, okay? I’m scared of this step but I’m willing to take it. Nolan is my entire life – the air I breathe every day, even after she disappeared – and you know that. Regan is my life now, too.”

Jenny’s eyes softened at her son’s heartfelt words. She stared at him in disbelief. She wanted to believe him but I could see how doubtful she was. He had been so dedicated to his music and his career – he’d really throw it away for a high school sweetheart?

“Jenny,” I softly said as I cautiously approached the conversation.

“Oh, baby,” she cooed, instantly engulfing me. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

I hugged back, holding her as tightly as I could. I didn’t know if she was apologizing because of my mother or if it was because she knew I had heard part of their conversation. Either way, her embrace was all I needed right then.

“When was the last time you ate? You look exhausted. Why don’t I fix you up something and you rest?” she offered, holding me at arm’s length to get a good look at me.

John instantly swooped in, taking her place as she flitted away to the kitchen. John gave me sympathetic eyes and guided me over to the couch. I folded myself into the corner and wrapped my arms around my legs, pulling them close to my chest. John started to walk away but I grabbed his wrist.

“Stay,” I barely whispered. “Please.”

“I was going to grab a blanket,” he explained. I shook my head in response and tugged him down next to me.

“I just..” I trailed off. There were too many emotions but not enough words.

He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my temple. “I know you need me right now. I swear to you, I will always be here. I’ve always been here.”

We stayed like that, curled into each other, until his mom came back with soup and crackers and glasses of ginger ale. She said it would soothe my soul, put my worries to rest. She handed the tray to John, who unwillingly released me so he could sit upright. I stared at the tray of food and wanted to weep. I tore my eyes away and looked up at Jenny.

“Jenny, I- I’m sorry,” I said. She frowned, knowing I had heard the conversation. “Please don’t be mad at John for this. I didn’t want him to know and I took every precaution possible to make sure he never found out.”

Jenny took a moment before responding. She sat on the edge of the coffee table. “I’m not mad at either of you. I remember how in love you two were and I can see it’s still alive even after all of these years. But I don’t want that little girl to be overlooked. I just need to be sure John understands the role he’s agreeing to take.”

I looked up at John. His eyes were closed, a sign that he was thoroughly annoyed that his mother didn’t fully believe him yet. I smiled faintly and looked at Jenny. “I know he can be the dad she needs. It’ll be difficult but he’ll be perfect.”

Jenny smiled as John pressed a kiss to my cheek unexpectedly. She instantly shot up, a gleam in her eyes. “Oh! You have to listen to something, Nolan.”

“No, no, no,” John quickly muttered, passed the tray onto my lap, and followed out of the room after his mom. I heard their muffled argument from a distant room.

I quietly ate spoonfuls of the steaming soup and took generous sips of the ginger ale. By the time the two returned, the bowl was half empty. Without another word, Jenny had plugged her iPod into a set of speakers and began scrolling. A song filled the silence of the room and I recognized the voice to be John’s. For a little over three minutes, we digested the lyrics.

For three minutes, I once again forgot how to breathe.

“Fuck,” John mumbled as the song ended, leading into a voicemail recording from his mom’s phone. The next song kicked in but I still hadn’t remembered how to breathe.

I stared at the iPod held tightly in Jenny’s hand. The current song was about her, and if I had been in the right mindset I would have commented on how sweet it was that he openly wrote about his mother, but I needed to listen to the previous one again. “Can I-? Just.. Once more?”

Jenny obliged and switched the tracks.

Went outside and saw the moon and it made me think of you. Then the rain, it came and came. There you were, inside my brain. I’ve been thinking of you.

I’ve been thinking of you. Driving in my car, I heard the radio play that Dylan song, The Times They Are A-Changing. But you still haven’t changed your mind. So I sat and sang along. I’ll be singing along.

I’ve been thinking of you.

The guilt hit me. I couldn’t push it away or let it go, even though John wanted me to. The guilt of running away collided with the guilt of how much I had hurt him in regards to Regan, and suddenly it began mixing with the guilt of sleeping with Garrett. Listening to this song that was obviously for me helped me realize that I would never be able to forgive myself for any of it. He would never be able to forgive me, either, once he found out.

I shifted the tray onto John’s lap and stood before the song ended. Shaking my head, I tried to think of anything to keep the tears away. I maneuvered my way through his house as if it were my own and angrily swiped at the tears trailing down my cheeks. I pushed through the back door and continued walking into the backyard.

Gasping for breath, I hunched over and placed my hands on my knees. I cried and choked and sometimes, in the split second when I wasn’t remembering how shitty I was, I remembered to inhale. John ran outside after me, curses trailing off his lips left and right.

“Jesus. Jesus, Nolan, breathe,” he begged, snatched me up into his arms and carried me back to the porch. “Nolan, breathe!”

I gasped and tried to push him away from me so I could have space to work through this tidal wave but he wasn’t budging. “I d-don’t de-deserve,” I stuttered as I gasped, still fighting to get his hands off me. “I don’t – not you. You- do-don’t deserve someone as shitty as me!”

“Shut up and breathe, damnit,” he ordered, restraining my arms at my sides.

Tears cascaded down my face and I took one final gasp in attempt to correct my breathing pattern. We sat together in the silence, him holding my arms at my sides, until I had calmed down. He kept me restrained even after I had remembered to breathe.

“I’m such a horrible person,” I whispered after my panic had subsided. I looked at him with sad, miserable eyes. “You deserve someone so much better than me. You should be writing songs about good girls – girls that don’t abandon you and hurt you like I do.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked. “I love you. I will always love you. That song was for you, for the hope that you would hear it and come back to me.”

“I’m just a horrible, rotten person, okay? Your life was better without me. You- you had all of these things going on and now that I’m back, you’re going to change and- and try to please me by staying around. I left so you could be free. I didn’t want you to give everything up for me. I never wanted that. I still don’t. So you need to write beautiful, heart-wrenching songs for good girls that won’t hold you back.”

I was crying again but this time I kept myself focused on inhaling and exhaling. I didn’t look at him when he spoke. I couldn’t bear to see the hurt in his eyes. If I looked at him, I would be sent over the edge again and I wasn’t sure if I could handle that.

“Did something happen?” he asked. His voice was thick and laced with the threat of his own tears. “Did- Did you and-”

“Please don’t make me say it,” I whispered, swallowing hard as thick tears rolled down my cheeks.

And although he remained physically next to me, I felt him slip away. He vanished, receded into his thoughts. I had no idea what he was thinking but it couldn’t have been any worse than the names I was labeling myself with. I was despicable. It would be completely understandable if he stood up and left me out here to rot in my own poison. I probably would have even understood if he had slapped me across the face.

But a strangled sob escaped my lips when I felt him reach out and grasp my hand, squeezing my fingers tightly.

**
I somehow ended up in John’s bed, alone, and a new day dawning. I had no idea how long I had been out, where Regan and John were, or if there had been any change or news about my mother.

The smell of bacon and eggs wafted up from downstairs and my stomach churned, causing me to gag. I groggily rolled out of bed and went to investigate. Quietly wandering into the kitchen, I saw Regan propped up at the table, a plate of orange slices and a piece of toast in front of her. I ventured father into the kitchen to find Jenny at the stove.

I noted that Regan had been bathed and was wearing her shorts from yesterday but now adorned one of the boys’ old shirts from when they were a lot younger. Her hair was up in a ponytail but her bangs were covering her eyes. I smiled at the sight and walked over to her, pushed her bangs up, and kissed her forehead. She giggled loudly as I left wet kisses against her cheek.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Jenny called to me. She turned the stove off and carried the sizzling pan over to the table. As she plated the eggs and bacon, she nodded to me, “Breakfast?”

I was about to politely decline but she handed the plate to me before I could get the words out. I softly thanked her and took a few bites while she settled into a chair and fixed up her own plate. “How long was I asleep?”

“Almost 24 hours,” she answered simply, a smile spreading across her lips. The smile quickly faded when she remembered what happened 24 hours ago. “Nolan, I’m sorry about the song. I just figured you needed to hear it because he would never have outwardly shown it to you.”

I finished eating the eggs but left the bacon untouched. “It wasn’t the song. And it definitely wasn’t your fault. The song is beautiful. It’s just.. Hearing all of his emotions like that made me upset. I- I hate myself for what I’ve done, Jenny.”

“Sweetheart,” she started softly. I sheepishly looked at her. “Don’t you dare ever hate yourself for the choices you made. You did what was best. You raised a beautiful little girl. You were protecting her. John wouldn’t have been able to make responsible choices like you did at that age.”

I nodded and let her words sink in. Regan offered me some of her oranges, bargaining for a piece of bacon. Jenny laughed as I accepted the bargain and traded with her.

“She’s definitely John’s child, that’s for sure,” Jenny chuckled.

“Speaking of John and breakfast,” I said, glancing around. “Where is he?”

“Oh! He said he had to go visit with Garrett for a while,” Jenny said as she refilled Regan’s glass of milk.

“Fuck,” I cursed, bolting out of my seat and running through the house. I slipped into a pair of sandals by the door – they looked like Jenny’s – and ran down the driveway. The adrenaline helped me run, full speed, all the way to Garrett’s house a good five blocks away.

I slowed when I saw John’s pickup. I didn’t hear anything happening, no screaming or yelling or fighting. But maybe I was too late? Maybe it had already happened and he was getting ready to leave and head back home.

As I approached, I noticed someone else’s car parked right behind John’s truck. With my head tilted in confusion, I stalked through the grass toward the gate that would lead into the backyard. When I was a few steps away, it blew open and Kennedy stormed out. His eyes widened when he saw me and he instantly snatched onto my wrist.

“Where the hell have you been?” he demanded, dragging me back down to the curb. “Jesus Christ, Nolan. I’ve been calling you nonstop.”

“What’s going on?” I asked dumbly. “Where’s John? Is Garrett okay?”

“Get in the car,” Kennedy demanded, giving me a slight push toward the passenger door of his car. I opened my mouth to protest but he shot me a warning glare over the hood of his car as he walked around to the driver’s side. “Get in the fucking car, Nolan.”

Terrified of his tone of voice, I obliged and slid into the passenger seat. He slammed his door and shoved the keys into the ignition. Before I could snap my seatbelt into place, he was already speeding off.

“Kennedy, what the fuck is going on?” I snapped. “You can’t just drag me around and-”

He glanced over at me and that’s when I saw how red his eyes were. My heart sank. He had been crying. Kennedy Brock had been crying. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

He drove as fast as he could but it didn’t seem fast enough. He grabbed onto my hand and held it tightly as we made our way upstairs to my mother’s room. The door was blockaded by nurses and doctors. The nurse from the other day, the one who went along with John’s lie, saw us approaching and broke away from the group.

“Ms. Greeley,” she delicately said, stopping us in our tracks.

I shook my head stubbornly, tears flooding my vision. “No, no, no, no,” I muttered. I looked over at Kennedy. He was staring at me as tears cascaded down his cheeks. “No!” I shouted.

“Ms. Greeley, you know the effects of dementia. It’s degenerative and there’s nothing we can do to stop it,” she explained in her delicate voice. “While we’ve had her on life support, we have tried everything to bring her back. This- This was your father’s decision, as he believes your mother would have also wanted this.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off of Kennedy’s. I felt like throwing up. This was not happening, not right now. Not today. My entire world can’t fall apart on me in such a short amount of time. Wasn’t there some sort of universal law against this sort of thing?

“Nolan,” Kennedy murmured and I felt my lungs deflate.

I whimpered as the tears fell freely. I managed to look at the nurse, finally. “Is she-?”

She inhaled deeply, as if she had been afraid of that question. Her eyes scanned my face, taking in the dark circles and the protruding cheekbones and the pout of my lips and the teardrops that caught on the corners of them. Her eyes rested on mine. “Your father is in there now. He asked to be alone while it happens.”

Kennedy wrapped both of his arms around me and protectively pulled me into his chest so I could sob as loudly as I needed to. He didn’t shush me or tell me things would be okay. He just rubbed my back and let me cry, because he was crying right along with me. The two of us ended up sitting on the floor, curled up by some plastic waiting chairs, and we cried together until my dad came out and joined us.