Seasons of Sorrow (6 page)

It was crazy, after ten years together, eight of them as a married couple, Derek never managed to make her coffee the way she took it. He tried, but half the time he forgot the sugar, and she always put at least a teaspoon in each cup. Charlotte shook off the peculiar thought and finished drying her hair. Quickly, she twisted it in a braid that hung down her back. She didn’t bother with make-up.

When she bounded down the stairs, Greg smiled slightly when he saw the shirt she was wearing but he didn’t say anything. He seemed to sense that her mood was fragile and that a storm brewed just under the surface of her skin.

He made her whole grain toast and spread Nutella on it. Charlotte managed to choke down one piece and a banana but couldn’t manage another slice of toast. Surprisingly, Greg didn’t give her a hard time. Instead, he threw away the last piece of toast and washed the plates and mugs they had used.

“Go grab your coat and hat, okay? It’s pretty chilly out today,” he said.

Charlotte didn’t argue. She was still indoors and she already felt cold inside. The day was grey and overcast. She put a slouchy white hat on her head and threw on an old army coat that once belonged to her father. She understood then that she was shrouding her body in things that gave her comfort: Greg’s college sweatshirt, her father’s old coat, a pair of warm faux fur boots.

“Ready?” Greg asked.

Charlotte nodded and followed him out to his truck. The ride to the cemetery was quiet, neither of them speaking. Greg didn’t even turn on the radio as he was prone to do. She suddenly remembered that she needed to get Adam flowers. Once a week she replaced them on his grave and had already done so, but this day was different that the others. He deserved something special.

They were driving past a little group of shops when Charlotte spotted a florist’s sign.

“Greg, can you please turn around and go back to the florist’s shop back there?” she asked.

Without a single question, he did as she requested, which made Charlotte even more grateful. The man understood her almost as well as Brandy did. She climbed out of his truck and went inside. There were several beautiful arrangements but none were right. Charlotte asked the florist if she had hyacinths and crocus. It was late February, so they would be just beginning to bloom. When the florist confirmed, she explained that she wanted a simple bouquet of blue hyacinth and crocus.

“What type of vase would you prefer, dear?” the woman asked.

Charlotte felt her chin wobble and forced herself not to cry. “No vase, please. It’s…it’s for a grave.”

The florist’s face changed, and her already kind eyes filled with compassion. “How about a ribbon? Maybe white?”

Charlotte nodded and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She watched as the woman gathered the flowers and tied them with a simple white satin ribbon. Greg came up behind her.

“Do you have daisies?” he asked.

The florist nodded.

“I’ll take a bouquet of those, tied with blue ribbon if you have it.”

She didn’t say anything more, just finished gathering and tying up the flowers. When she gave them the total, Greg insisted on paying for both. Charlotte tried to argue, but it was useless.

Greg merely said, “Let me do this for Adam.”

She couldn’t argue with that so she watched him pay for the flowers and they went back out to the truck.

The rest of the drive, Charlotte fingered the ribbons around the flowers. The fabric felt cold and smooth beneath her hands. She was surprised when Greg didn’t need direction to Adam’s grave. He parked and came around to help her out of the truck.

As they walked toward the angel headstone, the hollow feeling in her chest grew. Her head felt light as they reached Adam’s grave and she squatted down to place the hyacinths and crocus next to the small bouquet she had brought for him a few days before. Then she placed her knees on the ground and ran her hand over the cool marble face of the angel.

“Hi, baby,” she whispered. “I miss you.”

Greg stayed back and let her sit with her little boy. Charlotte talked to Adam for a few minutes before he came to sit next to her and join in the conversation. She wondered what Derek was doing. He should be here on a day like this. Even if he didn’t want to be married to her any longer, this was his son. He needed to be the man next to her.

Charlotte fell silent and just sat on the icy ground, looking at Adam’s beautiful headstone. It still appeared new, shiny and clean. After about a half hour, Greg rose and helped her to her feet.

“Charlie, we need to get you home, okay? It’s not good for you to sit out here in the cold.”

He was right but Charlotte didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay with her baby forever, to dig down into the ground and lie next to him. It wasn’t right or fair. She needed to be with her baby. He was supposed to grow up, fall in love, have children of his own.

Charlotte let Greg lead her to the truck, but with each step, the hollow feeling in her chest was being replaced with weight. Her heart grew heavier with each second. She clenched her fists after Greg helped her into the vehicle. Something was building within her body, and she couldn’t separate all the emotions as the tumult roiled within her.

During the ride, she clenched her fists tight, her nails digging into her skin. She kept her eyes focused on the road in front of them and tried to regulate her breathing. Greg glanced at her, his face full of concern, but she didn’t notice. Charlotte was too concerned with keeping the turmoil in her from erupting like lava, destroying everything in its path.

When they reached her home, Charlotte slid out of the truck, not waiting for Greg to come around and help her out of the behemoth. She moved quickly up the front sidewalk, feeling as brittle and fragile as the naked branches on the trees in her front yard. She didn’t care if Greg followed her in or not. She had to get inside the house, then she wouldn’t feel like this anymore.

Once she unlocked the front door and got inside, Charlotte ripped off her coat and hat, tossing them across the living room to the couch. She stood completely still for a moment, trying to catch her breath. Suddenly, she was able to recognize the one emotion she felt the strongest; rage.

She was so angry she could barely see. Intent on venting the volcano ready to erupt inside her body, Charlotte swooped down and grabbed an empty vase off a side table. With a short scream, she flung it against the wall and took dark pleasure in watching it shatter. The tiny pieces rained down onto the floor, broken to bits just like her heart.

It felt so good to release the anger that Charlotte looked for something else to destroy. She stormed through the house, grabbing a small figurine off a shelve and smashing it onto the hard wood floor. In almost every room of the house she found something to break. If she couldn’t have Adam, what was left? All these things were truly nothing without him.

Sobbing and shrieking, Charlotte sprinted down the hall and came to a halt in the open door of Adam’s room. Everything was still perfect and in its place. It stopped her in her tracks. She couldn’t break anything in this room, couldn’t break the sweetness of the memories attached to each item.

Her chest heaving, Charlotte fell to her knees in the doorway, a low sound coming from her throat. The frenzy of rage drained out of her, leaving her once again empty, but now she understood that the emotion was bubbling just under the surface of her heart, waiting for the right moment to be released. It terrified her, the intensity of her anger.

As she collapsed, arms encircled her, holding her against a large body as though she were a child. Mindlessly, she burrowed into the warmth and the cradle of a wide shoulder.

“I can’t take this,” she sobbed. “I don’t know what to do with everything inside of me. I just want him back so badly. I just want my baby back.”

Greg murmured nonsense in her ear, patting her back gently, as the storm of her tears overtook Charlotte. He seemed to understand that there was nothing he could do or say to comfort her. Instead he held her and let her cry out a portion of her anger and pain.

When she finished, he merely picked her up and carried her to her bed. He removed her boots, washed her face with a warm cloth, and tucked her in. Charlotte let him care for her as though she were a child and, finally, exhaustion overtook her and she slept.

Chapter Five

“H
ave you called the grief counselor I told you about?” Brandy asked.

Charlotte ducked her head. She hadn’t.

Brandy didn’t say anything in response, she merely continued to scratch out a grocery list, but Charlotte could tell that she was disappointed. She wanted to explain to her why she couldn’t bring herself to call the counselor, but Charlotte didn’t even understand it herself. It seemed strange, but her pain just felt private. She wanted to hold it close to her because letting it go would feel too much like abandoning Adam’s memory.

Brandy glanced at her, her eyes full of understanding and concern. Charlotte realized that, even though Brandy had never experienced what she was feeling, she was trying to ease the burden.

“When was the last time you left the house?”

Again, Charlotte couldn’t meet her eyes. It had been two weeks since Greg took her to the cemetery, and she barely made it out of bed each day. She never left the house.

Brandy sighed softly. “Okay, we’re going to the grocery store. Go put some clothes on.”

“I don’t feel like going to the store,” Charlotte complained.

“I know, sweetie, but you’re going to have to get back to the business of living. I love you and I’m here for you, but I can’t be here every night for the rest of your life. I know you want to curl up in a ball and pretend the world doesn’t exist, but you still have to take care of yourself.”

That wad of anger in her gut shot forth a burst of ugliness. “If it’s too much trouble to be here, you don’t have to come at all,” Charlotte snapped.

Brandy just stared her down. As a lawyer, she could out-stubborn a fence post. She also knew when to push past defensiveness and when to back away. Apparently, she wasn’t going to ease off.

Knowing she was being unreasonable, Charlotte muttered, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Brandy nodded slightly. “It’s okay. Now, please go get dressed. We need to go to the grocery store.”

Charlotte gave up the fight and got up from the kitchen table. She trudged up the stairs and chose a random outfit of jeans and a sweatshirt from her closet. After she pulled on her comfy boots, she went into the bathroom. In the mirror, her face was pale and naked of make up. She didn’t bother to put any on. Instead she threw her hair into a ponytail and washed her face.

Moving slowly, she went back down the stairs, dreading this trip to the store. Just being around other people grated on her nerves and made her feel bruised and exposed. Brandy was sitting on the couch when she came down.

She rose to her feet. “Ready?”

Though she really wasn’t, Charlotte nodded. They grabbed their coats and bags and went out to Brandy’s car. Though she would never admit it, Charlotte pouted the entire way to the store. She didn’t understand why Brandy was making her do this. It was too hard.

They went to Whole Foods, one of Charlotte’s favorite places. It was a foodie’s delight, with the freshest vegetables and meats, even difficult to find produce and international foods. Despite her irritation with Brandy, Charlotte found some enjoyment in looking at all the selections and making her choices. It had been almost two months since she had done her own grocery shopping or cooking, two things she enjoyed most about being a homemaker.

It happened after they left the produce department. Brandy led Charlotte over to the meat counter and she was browsing when a cart appeared at her elbow. The woman pushing it smiled at them, but Charlotte saw what was in her buggy and her skin flashed hot then ice cold. Sitting in the cart was a car seat that held a baby boy. He was small, probably no more than two or three months old. Almost the exact size Adam had been that morning when Charlotte had lifted him out of the crib and started CPR.

The baby was sleeping peacefully in his seat and Charlotte couldn’t take her eyes off of him. He looked sweet and angelic.