Some Days

She had been in the hospital for 3 days and 13 hours. It sounded like no time at all but it had felt like an eternity. It was long enough to learn she would never return to us. It was long enough to completely turn our worlds upside down. Kennedy escorted me home after I said my goodbyes to my mother. I collapsed on the couch and pulled myself into a fetal position.

3 days and 13 hours. It was no time at all. But it was all the time she needed to let go.

Thinking about how quickly she had let go made me realize how fragile everything is – time, space, relationships. Everything can change in an instant.

I stared at the blank wall directly across from the couch and counted. I counted minutes and hours. I counted how many people I had in my life. I counted the ways they could be torn away from me. I calculated how many different times I could be hurt by each person and crossed it with the number of ways they could be hurt by me. I just counted. I needed to calculate everything because it felt like I no longer had any purchase on life.

She had been gone for 36 hours. I hadn’t moved from my spot on the couch since Kennedy had brought me home. Dad barely moved from his spot at the kitchen table, inundated with funeral plans. People freely came in and out of our house and Payton acted as our buffer. She would greet everyone that stopped by and take the food they were offering, storing it in the fridge.

Kennedy brought my car back from the hospital. John showed up with Regan, and she instantly squeezed herself to fit into my fetal position. When Regan wasn’t lying with me, it was John, spooning me from behind. Every once in a while, the three of us would squeeze onto the couch together. But it never lasted longer than an hour or two at a time.

Jenny was at our house every day. She cleaned the floors and counter tops and bathrooms and bedrooms. She heated up some of the casseroles people had brought over and encouraged everyone to eat. As far as I could tell, I was the only one that refused. But she didn’t force me.

By hour 48, I had slept a total of five hours and hadn’t eaten anything since the few bites of egg at Jenny’s house. John was practically glued to me at that point, his arms protectively wrapped around my waist. He would whisper sweet things into my ear when I least expected it and he softly re-told stories from when we were younger.

By hour 60, I had stopped crying and managed a smile. Dad had finalized the funeral and it would be taking place somewhere around hour 74. With Payton’s help getting everything together for the funeral, he showered and left the house without another word. I assumed he would be heading to the church to triple check everything. I had never had to plan a funeral before and I distanced myself as far as I could from this one.

It was hour 64. Payton had put Regan down to bed and quietly shut the door to the guest room downstairs. The house was quiet and the only light came from the kitchen. John still had his chest against my back, his chin on my shoulder, our legs tangled.

“Do you think you’re ready to eat something?” he asked softly. He had given up begging and pleading after the first 12 hours had passed after my mother’s death. Now, he had taken to asking when I would be ready.

“Probably,” I weakly responded. My eyes were heavy from lack of sleep and I feared that if I moved, I would collapse and shatter into a million pieces all across the floor. “Do you mind making something, though? I don’t think I can move just yet.”

He kissed my cheek. “Of course. Do you want anything in particular or should I see what’s been brought over by people?”

“Just.. Something that won’t upset my stomach,” I mumbled.

He kissed my cheek once more and then he was gone. Through all my calculations, of all the people remaining in my life, John was the one who could hurt me the most. There were so many possibilities and patterns and outcomes. It all ended up with me in shambles.

While sorting through the various calculations and numerous ways of being hurt, I remembered – John’s band. Garrett’s mom had warned me about their upcoming tour. If my timings were right, that was supposed to happen in two, possibly three, days. However, John hadn’t mentioned anything about it yet. Did that mean things had changed? Or had he not wanted to drop that bomb during this chaos?

He returned 23 minutes later.

I was sitting up by then, a sight that he smiled at. The plate he brought with him had a bunch of different things on it, but none of it looked appetizing. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, struggling against the urge to cry.

“I know it’s tough,” he murmured. “You have to eat something soon, Nolan. You’re going to get sick.”

I tilted my head to look at him. “Where will you be in three days?”

He sighed at my deflection from food. “Here, with you. Why?”

I gingerly took the plate from him. My stomach flipped in distaste as the smells filled my senses. “What did you talk to Garrett about that day?”

His cheeks blushed pink. He averted his eyes and picked at the hole in his jeans. “Garrett is not who you need. What he and I talked about is over and done with.”

I took a tentative bite of someone’s homemade macaroni and cheese. It wasn’t bad but I knew it would cause uproar in my stomach. “I’m sorry,” I told him earnestly, staring at the variety of foods. I set the fork down next to something I couldn’t quite put a name to. “It’s just that, after I talked to you on the phone and you challenged me, I was just so angry. I know that isn’t an excuse, but..”

His fingers gently gripped my chin and turned my head so I was staring at him. “After we sorted everything out in that regard, I called Pat and Jared and we all discussed the immediate future. Kennedy had just left to find you. We all agreed to postpone the tour until further notice. We released a statement already – I’m having a family crisis and we have to reschedule the dates for the winter. So tomorrow and the next day and the day after that and all the days that come after that, I’ll be here.”

Maybe it was knowing where we stood – on some level – or maybe it was because the bite of creamy noodles had finally hit my stomach, but my stomach growled so loudly it caused both of us to chuckle. I finished off the plate, eating even the questionable things, and John graciously brought seconds. Mac and cheese only this time, upon my request.

He brought the whole pan and an extra fork. The two of us ate the entire thing.

**
I stood outside the church doors, Regan’s little hand clasped tightly in mine. I had only made it this far. Getting up the steps was hard enough, but actually entering the building was another story. People I hadn’t seen in years passed by me, apologizing quietly as they entered. No one asked where I was or how I had been or why I left or who the little girl was. It wasn’t the time or place for those questions.

John took the steps two at a time and hugged me. He kissed Regan and ruffled her hair a bit, before standing on my other side. He lit a cigarette and inhaled, eyes closed as the nicotine rushed through his veins.

“Baby,” I said to Regan. She looked up at me. “Go inside and find grandpa, okay? See how he’s doing.”

Regan nodded strongly and wandered into the church through the open doors. I waited a few beats before I turned back to John. A cigarette was already in his fingertips, held out toward me.

“You’ll have to cut back on this,” I said, staring up at him as he lit the cigarette between my lips. I inhaled and instantly relaxed.

“For Regan,” he vowed.

We puffed at our cigarettes in silence. Friends and family walked into the church, one after the other after the other. None dared to scold us. I was beginning to think no one recognized me, but that thought was put to rest when a distant cousin finally stopped on her way in to give me her condolences. She made brief conversation – asked how I had been, mentioned hearing about my daughter and expressing interest in meeting her soon – and then disappeared inside like all the rest.

We stood outside for an hour. I heard the services start inside but I still couldn’t bring myself to actually go in. John didn’t pressure me or hint that it would be the right thing to do. He silently reached over, entwined our fingers, and let it be.

We turned our faces to the sun and felt the warm reminder of better times.