Folie à Deux

After Sammy had gone to sleep, I got up as quietly as I could and headed over to my closet. My closet is large and I would often find Sammy and/or Jojo hiding in there when we would play hide and seek. It was easy for me to hide Christmas and birthday presents in it; the shelves were high and I had a bunch of boxes of the kids' baby things, along with pictures and stuff from my old duplex.

I got one particular box down; a wooden box painted red; it wasn't large, it was like a small chest with latches. Once I had it down, I sat on the carpeted floor and unlatched it; inside I had pictures of John, musicians I had met, pictures of Pete, and the rest of my friends. The first picture was a duplicate of John and I on the day we had gotten married at the courthouse; his grin was wide, instantly reminding me of Johanna, while I just smiled softly, hugging him while he held the throwaway camera. I felt those old feelings fill my belly; love and nostalgia, I could almost put myself back there. The next picture was of myself that I knew John had taken; I was on the phone, lying on my couch, and I had a small smile on my face. That's when I remembered that I had been talking to Pete.

The thought of Pete always made me either sick or sad. Yes, I have loads of happy memories of my friendship with Pete, but the last time we were together just warped most of them. It made me wonder why he had hit on me so much if he didn't really want me. I did not believe the whole schtick about the media picking us apart; I only believe that he truly didn't want the responsibility of being with me and dealing with my depression, my numbness and my daughter. I think he just slept with me because he could, and I did it because I wanted to; I was sad and lonely.

We both were using each other.

I most certainly did not want him back in my life...but I knew that Sammy needed him in his life. I was afraid to tell Pete, I was afraid that he'd reject Sammy. My thoughts muddled up a perfect union between them, all I could imagine was Pete pushing little Sam away and having his heart broken. It churned my stomach to think of my son feeling like I had. I did not want Pete to hurt him like he hurt me, but I did want Sam to get to know the Pete I knew; the happy, joyous, smiley, joker Pete.

It was like I was being pulled in two different directions.

I set the pictures back in the box, mentally noting to show Sam and Jojo later. I got up, leaving the red box on the floor, set aside, and turned, beginning to reach for Sammy's special baby box; inside was his baby book and some of his first drawings and baby photos. With the box in my hands, I sat back on the floor and took the top off; reaching inside, the first thing I grabbed was his baby book. Opening it, I smiled at the hospital bracelets taped to the inside; mine were taped above Sammy's. I could remember how tiny he was, how scared I had been when I had seen he was just a little guy; I thought that he was sick, but he was only tiny.

His birth certificate was taped to the other side of the bracelets on the next page; I read his name aloud to myself, "Sam Jonathan Holohan." It took a lot for me not to make him a junior; I think it was the guilt of not telling Pete. Still, Sam is a Holohan, I had Perry and Bob's blessings.

I started to wonder if I would change his name; if Pete would accept Sammy and ask me to change his name. I would if he showed me that he did want to be in Sam's life. I wasn't going to hold my breath.

I continued on looking through photos of Sam when he was a baby. He had been so tiny, so quiet and easy to take care of. If it hadn't been for his facial features I wouldn't have believe he was my baby. Coming from Pete, I suspected Sam would be loud and end up being a troublemaker, but he's the opposite. He has Pete's golden eyes, his furrowed brows and frown, but it took a lot for me to truly see Pete in him.

Maybe that's why I love him so much, because he's not like Pete. Because he doesn't look all that much like him as he's getting older.

I forced Pete's sudden invasion out of my head, placing Sam's things back in his baby box and placed it back on the shelf. Taking the red box with me, I returned to my bedroom, closing the closet quietly behind me, and then placed it on my desk. I then climbed back into bed with Sam; Sammy had rolled over and was feeling around the bed, most likely feeling for me. As I snuggled up to my son, his head popped up in my direction, he squinted his eyes to look for me and I pulled him into my arms, along with his stuffed monkey.

"I'm here, baby boy, go back to sleep."



The following morning, the kids woke me up an hour and a half before I was to walk them to school. I made them breakfast and decided to show them the photos of John and I. I set the box on the table, opening it up as they ate.

"Wha's dat?" Jojo asked.

"It's pictures," I answered, "of me and your daddy."

Jojo grinned and got up from her seat across from me and rushed to my side. Sammy didn't seem interested, he just ate his blueberries, pushing them onto his fingers to pull off with his teeth. I felt some relief, but guilty nonetheless; Jojo eased the tension in my body. She looked at the pictures with fascination, sitting beside me and looking at them intently. My attention had shifted between her and Sammy, but after a few minutes, Sammy disappeared.

This didn't worry me, I knew he was either going to the bathroom or going to get his shoes. Jojo continued looking at the pictures, asking me about them, and who took them. We were in our own little world until I heard Sammy scream.

Jojo and I both jumped up and ran towards where he was screaming. My heart was racing and was shooting into my throat; we ran into his room where we found him lying on the floor. I knelt to him, picking him up, letting the words fly out, "Sam, Sam, what's wrong? What happened?"

He whined, "I falled!"

I sat him in my lap and looked him over; he had a large gash across his forehead, right above his left eyebrow. I inhaled sharply, grabbing a shirt from the floor and putting it to his wound as it began to bleed

"Oh shit," I muttered under my breath, pressing firmly

"It hurts," he murmured, sniffling.

"I know, I know," I said quickly, "it'll be okay, we're gonna get you to a doctor, okay? You'll be just fine, babe."

Sammy sniffled and rubbed his eyes. I made sure to have him hold the t-shirt to his head as I picked him up, cradling him. Jojo grabbed his hand, squeezing it, telling him he was going to be okay; all the nervousness went away as she did, I felt so comforted with Jojo there.

I looked down at her, "Jo, go put on your shoes and coat. You're not going to school today."

Jojo obeyed my orders, rushing off to the other room while I carefully placed Sam on his bed, "Hold onto the shirt, I'm gonna get your shoes".

He wasn't crying any longer, he just sniffled and whimpered, "'Kay."

I hurriedly grabbed his coat and shoes, putting them on as carefully and as quickly as I could. I made sure to grab a towel and change out the soaked up shirt, and then picked him up, having Jojo grab my purse and keys.



Jojo sat in my lap while we waited for the doctor to return. Sammy was given some medicine to make him sleep while the doctor gave him stitches; he screamed his head off when he saw the needle and thread. He snoozed in the hospital bed; Jojo looked worried, she had said she was afraid he was going to die.

"He's gonna be okay," I told her, "he's just asleep."

"Maybe Sam will go ta heaven," she murmured against my shoulder, "he can see daddy like he wants ta."

I felt so guilty and sick about what Jojo said; I knew I couldn't keep the truth from Sam nor Pete. In my heart, I knew it would be best to tell Pete, ask him if he wants to be in Sammy's life. But, I was afraid he would reject him and get pissed off; that was my only fear.

"Is Sam asleep?" A young nurse in neon pink scrubs broke my heavy train of thought.

"Yeah," I replied.

"My brotha gon' be okay?" Jojo asked quickly.

The nurse hummed, smiling at us, "He's going to be just fine. He just needs a little bit of stitches"

Jojo's body eased against my chest, "Good."

"In the mean time, would you like anything?"

"Juice," Jojo said.

"And you, Mrs. Holohan?"

I exhaled and shook my head, "I'm fine."

"I'll be right back."

The nurse disappeared, leaving us alone. It was quiet, except for the monitors and heart rate machine beeping, and the other patients and their child laughing and talking. This all seemed to comfort me, even with the guilt and fearful thoughts.

5 minutes later, the nurse and doctor returned, "Are we ready?"

I nodded, "Yep. He'll be alright, right?"

Dr. Haver nodded, "Of course."

My mind was still burdened and heavy as they all moved around me; Jojo sat in a chair behind me, crossing her legs under her thighs; Dr. Haver was looking over Sam's gash, and Nurse Mindy was talking happily to Jojo, handing her a cup of apple juice. I sat quietly, my eyes on my son, trying to ignore the obvious traces of Pete. I hated how much he was on my mind lately.

"Mrs. Holohan?" Nurse Mandy once again broke my unwarranted thoughts, "I brought you a magazine."

I smiled faintly, taking the magazine she held out to me. The front cover of People almost made me drop it. It was as if the universe was taunting me; Pete was on the cover, a picture of he and Ashlee was photoshopped to have their picture torn in half.

"Are you alright?" Nurse Mandy asked me; the magazine was limp in my hand.

All I could do was nod, "Y-yeah. Yeah. Fine."

Nurse Mandy smiled, "Do you need water?" I shook my head, "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," I muttered and sat the magazine in my lap, opening it to pretend I was interested.

"Hey," she began again, "your son looks a little like that Pete Wentz guy. He has the same brow and mouth."

I didn't know what to say, I just looked at her, forcing a fake, hard smile, "Y-yeah, I've heard that."

I returned my gaze to my son and then back at the magazine. The universe was definitely messing with me.