Coming Home

Cassadee:

I received the phone call when I was talking to Lee about my recent articles.

“Well, at least you’re not causing me anymore trouble.”

“Thanks Lee,” I remembered scoffing as he gave me a forced smile.

“I deposited a 30% bonus into your account Cassadee.”

I looked at Lee like he was crazy, but all he gave me was a sheepish smile.

“It wasn’t healthy attention, but it was attention. Readership has gone up Cassadee, thanks to you.” I forgot what he said after that, but someone knocked on the door halfway.

“Cassadee, it’s a phone call for you. Urgent,” scrambled a colleague. I gave a strange look before Lee excused me. No one ever called me when I was in the office, they usually called my mobile phone. Making my way to the reception, I picked up the phone.

And for a moment all I heard was crying. A horrible, breathy, choky sound that flooded my ears. The receptionist eyed me warily, she must have heard the crying too.

“Hello?”

“Cass? I-I’m sorry to bother you-“

“Dave? Are you okay?” I remembered panic welling up. Dave hardly cried, and even if he did, he hardly came to me.

“What’s wrong?’

There was silence at the end of the phone, like he was struggling to get the words out of his mouth. But when he finally did, I understood why.

“Wendy’s hospitalized. Our baby’s dead.”

~

Cassadee felt her breath hitch between her throat, and simultaneously felt the ground beneath her shatter.

“I’m sorry Dave,” was all she could muster after trying to right herself, hands deathly white, one hand on the phone, another gripping the table counter like her life depended on it. It was all she could take not to collapse onto the ground. Dave needed her, and she couldn’t give in just yet.

There was a wordless conversation across the phone line, the receptionist trying her best to ignore Cassadee’s silence.

There was that noise-cancellation sensation around Cassadee again. Then she heard Dave sob, a painful, gut wrenching sound that pierced her ears. She hated seeing people cry, but hearing her brother cry painfully over the phone hit home.

“Is she…?” Cassadee finally spluttered.

“She’s okay for now. The doctor said these things happen. It’s just that she started bleeding, and she was 3 months in and we just, it was a boy Cassadee. My little baby boy,” Dave heaved, his voice cracking painfully. Every word was like walking on glass, stabbing Cassadee.

“It’s okay Dave, do you want me over?” Cassadee whispered, both hands pressing the phone as close to her ear as possible. She heard him sniffle, trying to swallow the trembling cries.

“N-No, please I know you can’t-“ Cassadee swallowed.

“I can handle it Dave,” she tried to soothe. Instead of making Dave feel better, she heard him cry louder. And Cassadee bit her lip to stop the tears from coming.

“How do you lose something you never had Cass?” He asked, his voice quiet across the phone, clearly ignoring what Cassadee just said.

Cassadee realised that she didn’t know the answer to that. All along she had just dealt with her infertility as something that never came. The surgeon had performed a vasectomy on her so Cassadee would never be reminded of her loss ever again. But she had never told anyone, only her family knew.

“I’m sorry Cass, I know it’s a lot to take in,” Dave finally said.

“You can always try again right?” She asked, her voice shaking. She heard Dave calm down, breathing deeply into the phone.

“Dave, you can right? Wendy’s not like me right?” She asked, a little more forcefully.

“Well yeah-“

“Dave, as long as there’s space for trying again, you haven’t lost anything yet. You can always try again when she’s ready,” Cassadee said, trying to pull her heart out from her body- physically escaping the pain that permeated her. It didn’t make sense that Dave would put her in a position like that, but when you were desperate for answers and human warmth, you would do anything.

“Thanks Cass.”

Dave had calmed down and Cassadee knew she had done her job.

“I’m sorry for-“

“It’s okay Dave. Don’t stop trying okay? One of us has to continue the bloodline,” she said, lightening her tone to mask the pain that was so pervasive.

Cassadee wouldn’t make this about her.

“I love you sis.”

“Have you told mum and dad?”

“They’re on the way to visit Wendy.”

“Why can’t I come?”

There was a silence before David spoke again.

“We know you don’t like hospitals Cassadee. Maybe when Wendy’s discharged, you can come over to our place.”

Cassadee swallowed. It wasn’t just about her fear of hospitals- that was just a nicer way of saying that Cassadee shouldn’t visit Wendy because it was triggering for Cassadee. It was like her past had claimed her, isolated her from her family. It was a negating feeling- to know that your family still loved you in times of need, but to also be isolated in times of mourning.

“Got it. Please take care of each other Dave,” Cassadee managed.

Dave bade her a solemn farewell before putting the phone down. Cassadee stared at her hands, and noticed for the first time, how empty she was.

She wouldn’t feel sad, not for herself.

“Are you okay Cass?” asked the receptionist, breaking Cassadee’s intense stare competition with her hands. Blinking away the tears that were welling at the bottom of her eyes, Cassadee brushed her palms across her eyes.

Nodding in faux cheer, Cassadee smiled at the receptionist.

~

“Don’t hate me for asking this, but are you okay?” Derrick asked as he picked Cassadee up from work. He had noticed her when he was pulling up that she had her parka on, the hood pulled over her head- like she was hiding her face. She had her hands pressed against her face, rocking back and forth.

“Give me a second okay?” She said, and Derrick noticed that her voice was trembling. They sat in silence as Derrick drove back to her apartment.

“Okay,” she finally said, looking up from her lap. Derrick waited.

“Okay,” she said again, swallowing heavily and sniffing. Derrick waited again, giving her some space.

“Wendy’s baby died.”

Derrick’s foot left the gas pedal for a slight moment, causing the car to jerk forward before moving again.

“Dave called me,” she exhaled, her breath shakily escaping her mouth.

“Is she okay?” Derrick asked, his blood turning cold inside him.

“She’s fine. They were going to have a baby boy, Derrick,” Cassadee said, pursing her lip so tightly together that they faded to a white colour.

“Shit.”

“Yeah, that.”

There was something strained in Cassadee’s voice as she replied him. Derrick looked at her briefly, turning the car into her apartment car park. He noticed that she was trying hard to hold her tears in.

“Derrick.”

“Yeah?” He asked, stopping the car.

“It’s not about the baby.”

“It isn’t?”

“This really sounds like a dick move, but there’s something I need to tell you,” Cassadee said, wiping the tears that had collected below her lashes away.

“Dave and Wendy can try again. They can try and try until they get a whole dynasty of kids running around,” Cassadee blabbered, trying to get her thoughts in check.

“They can try, again and again. They can try until they forget about this. There’s always hope for them right?” She asked, not looking at Derrick, but looking out the car window. The engine had died as Derrick pulled the car key out. They sat in silence as Derrick waited for her to speak.

“Cass?”

She bit her lip, staring out the window, cheeks flushed. After what seemed like minutes of agonizing silence, Cassadee finally told him.

“But I can’t.”

~

Derrick:

I stared at the medical documents in front of me, read each line again and again until my head hurt. Cassadee was in the shower, even though she went in 20 minutes ago, the shower only started now. I knew she would be crying. But she told me to leave her alone for a moment.

I needed time too.

I kept thinking about 5 years ago. If I had gone up a little earlier. If I hadn’t held onto Crystal so tight. If I hadn’t told her to hide from my father. If I had done all of these things had I known what it would have done to her, would things have changed?

There were so many secrets a person could carry. And I felt like I didn’t know Cassadee at all. I had broken her, every single part of her. She had shattered, and I had left her. I might be trying to pick up the pieces now, but I was afraid that she would never be whole again. And I would never forgive myself.

And now with the medical documents sitting in front of me, I knew the truth of what I had done to her. It was such a terrible burden to carry. And all I left for her was a stupid, fucking letter.

As much as I hated myself, I knew I had to be there for her. I couldn’t let her go again because of the hatred I had for myself. It was wretched, but she was the only one that made everything okay.

I knew I loved her, but I didn’t know the extent of it until now. I had completely ruined her, but there was no place I would rather be right now than next to her. Maybe it was fate’s funny way of making me repent. But we were unsalvageable, we couldn’t be fixed. Shattered pieces of us littered all around us, reminding us of the agonizing pain of what we had felt before.

But it was with her that made me forget about hating myself. I felt like a better person with her, and I would love her despite all that she had lost.

The door to her bathroom clicked open and she stepped out, padding softly towards me. I looked at her, and she was beautiful. She was real, and she was alive. That was all that mattered. That we were alright. It didn’t matter what else we had lost in the fire we created, all I cared about was that we would get through this together.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter.”

She looked at me like I was crazy.

“Stop looking at me like that. I know you expect me to be angry, or mourn. But I don’t care. We’re gonna get through this.”

“I’m not even a real woman.”

“Are you serious?”

She stopped for a moment, staring intently at the medical reports infront of us.

“Derrick, we have no miracles,” she whispered.

“We make our own chances Cass, and I love you. We’ll get by.”

She blinked slowly at me, standing opposite me, separated by the kitchen isle. Her eyes were red, and her hair was wet and combed back messily. She smelt like flowers and shampoo, and I relented. She was everything, she was my weakness and she was my strength.

“Say that again,” she said. Crossing over to her, I placed my hands on her hips. She was so small under me, but she was so much as well. Lifting her onto the kitchen table, I felt her legs wrap around me, drawing us in. Hands cupping my face, I watched the tears drip slowly down her eyes. But there were smiles on her face, a sort of heartbroken acceptance to our fates.

“I love you?”

“No, we make our own chances. God damn you’re good at making up quotes.”

Then she smiled into our kiss, and electricity passed through us, winding through the places where our hands and skin connected.

“You weren’t lying then?” She asked, pulling away.

“About what?”

“The letter.”

“You remember?”

“Like it was tattooed at the back of my ass.”

I smiled at her, forgetting all our problems. We were young, and we were in love. We had fallen for each other so many times that I had lost count.

“I might have lost my way in the middle, but I always meant it.”