Entry for A New Chapter Contest
Title: Because We Also Are What We Have Lost
Characters: Sookie, Eric, Bill, Amelia
Word count: 7,163
Pen name: EliaSkarsWill
Beta: chiisai-kitty
Status: New writer
Discalimer: All of these amazing characters belong to Charlaine Harris.
A/N: I think my fabulous beta deserves a life-sized statue of the blue-eyed Viking. Don't worry. I'm sculpting as I type. ;)
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SPOV
And like Chris Gardner said at the end of the movie: "This part of my life... this part right here? This is called 'happyness'."
This was indeed one of the happiest moments of my life. After 2 months of waiting for my period I suspected it could be possible, but with me being so irregular I had my doubts. Eric and I have a very active sex life. He is the most amazing guy I've ever met and for that matter I wouldn't want to meet any other guy in the world, ever. You know when you reach puberty and start fantasizing about the guy you want to marry? Like you think you don't want him to be too short or with curly hair. Well, Eric has everything I ever looked for in a guy. Including the most important feature I think a guy has to have: love for music. And I mean love in all the extent of the word. Love for music as in I'm-going-to-smash-someone's-head-with-a-hammer-if-I-don't-get-tickets-for-this-Kings-of-Leon-concert! The kind of love only a TRUE music lover has for music.
That morning I skipped work, after all I was the boss, and went to the pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test. This was the first one I had ever bought and it was exciting. I didn't want to get my hopes to high in case it was a false alarm, but something inside me told me it wasn't. That today was going to change my life, our life.
I peed on the little stick and for the life of me I couldn't get a clear result. Could that shit be any more difficult to read? I went back to the pharmacy and got a pregnancy test that showed the result with the actual words "positive" or "negative", no more trying to find out if it was a plus sign or a color or whatever.
It was an absolute positive. I was officially going to become a mom. I was in the most perfect moment of my life. I needed to tell Eric.
I grabbed my car keys and headed to his office. On the way there I made the stupid decision of thinking about the 'what ifs'. What if we he doesn't want me to have his child? What if he cheats on me? What if we can't stay together forever? I should have never started thinking about us. It's a dangerous thing to do while I'm on my own.
When I arrived the parking lot was almost empty, there were only a few cars besides Eric's red corvette and Pam's brand new black BMW. I parked and stayed on the car for a few minutes. I didn't know how to ask him about the what ifs, but I was definitely going to ask. I just needed to find the courage to get out my car and enter his office. A knock on my window got me out of my reverie; it was Bill the new bartender.
"Hey, you okay in there?" His voice sounded kind of muffled through the window.
"Uhm, yes," I said, getting out of the car.
"Are you sure? You want me to go get Eric or something?"
"No, thanks. Everything's okay. I was just on my way to see him." More like stalling, but whatever…
"Sure you are okay?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Thanks."
We walked together towards the main entrance in a sort of awkward silence. I was grateful when we finally reached the front door.
"Uhm, I think he is in his office."
"Thanks. See ya."
When I got there I still wasn't ready to knock, not yet. Instead I sat on the floor right beside his door trying to clear my head. I sat there cross-legged trying to figure out what was I going to ask. Several minutes passed and I was still trying to sort shit out when I heard a laugh coming from Eric's office. Not just his, but a woman's too.
"She's going to die when I tell her," came his voice through the door.
"You have waited too much already. I thought you were never going to make a choice," said the woman.
Oh shit. I don't need this right now. I don't need to feel more insecure that I already feel. I needed more time to think. Was he going to leave me? Was he cheating on me with this woman?
As I was trying to get up and leave the door swung open and there they stood laughing. And let me tell you it wasn't just an amiable-we-are-doing-business kind of laugh. That was Eric's I'm-way-too-fucking-happy laugh, and his face, his face said it all. He had this pure undiluted happiness look. Oh shit.
"Sookie, what are you doing there?" he asked with a shocked voice.
"I, uhm, I came to talk to you, but I guess you are busy. It can wait." I spoke while I was getting up and walking away.
"No, wait!" he yelled while grabbing my right hand.
"Oh, please! I was just leaving," said the woman that was uncomfortably standing in Eric's doorway.
"Sookie, this is Amelia. She's… we were doing some business."
"Right," I said trying not to let the anger and sadness reflect in my voice.
"Nice to meet you, Sookie. Eric has said a lot of things about you." I bet he has… "Well, I guess I'll see you soon Eric," she said nonchalantly.
With a huge smile Eric responded, "See ya."
She walked towards the exit and I could clearly see it. She was Eric's perfect match. Blonde, tall and sure of herself. Well, I'm blond but not tall and certainly not sure of myself. Well, let me rephrase that; not sure about US, not just me; but US as a couple.
"Hey, what were you doing on the floor?"
"Were you talking about me?" My voice came a little bit louder than I expected.
"You haven't answered my question." Deflecting much?
"I was thinking. Where you talking about me?"
"Come in, please?" He offered me his hand.
"No, if you are going to break up with me, just say it."
"Break up with you? Why would I want to do that?" He said with the biggest questioning look I've ever seen on him.
"I heard you telling her that I was going to die when you told me."
"Well, you kinda are going to die when I tell you. But I'm definitely NOT breaking up with you." He said taking my hands and kissing both of them. "Come in. Please?" Now how can I say no to those huge puppy dog eyes?
I entered his office and he closed the door not releasing my hands. And then he walked to his chair and made me sit on his lap and then he just held me, for a very long time; and I just let him because that's the way we are. I was cradled in his arms, my face buried in his neck. Just trying to absorb everything he is, everything we are.
"What were you thinking about?" He interrupted my daydreaming.
"Uhm?"
"You said you were on the floor beside my office door, thinking. What were you thinking about?" he asked while tucking a few curls behind my ear that had gotten lose from my ponytail.
"I… I need to ask you something," I said, burying my face on his chest.
"Well, ask away, lover," he said, placing a soft kiss on my temple.
"I really, I mean REALLY need you to be honest. Even if it hurts. Even if you think I can't take it. Promise?" I look into his eyes letting him know this is serious business.
"Okay?" He says half asking/singing/answering.
"Right. So, I uhm, I…" I struggle with words. I always have.
"Are YOU breaking up with me?" he asked, emphasizing the word.
"No, God. No, I just… I… Are you happy? I mean, did you… expect your life to be like this, with someone like me?"
"Where is all this coming from?"
"Just… humor me, please?"
"Right, uhm, yes, no and not at all," he responded.
I instantly felt awkward, sitting on his lap and about to tell him that I was going to have his baby and then I hear him say I'm not the one for him. NOT. AT .ALL. You remember that episode from The Simpsons in which Bart falls in love with this girl and she rips his chest open and takes out his heart and throws it at a basket case? Well, Eric just put my heart on a shredder and pressed the "on" button.
"Right, then. Well… that doesn't leave any room for more questions. I guess… I'm just going to let you go back to work," I said, not looking at his eyes and trying to release his grip on my waist in an attempt to get up from his lap and get the fuck out of there.
"Life got exponentially better the day I met you. And it gets better every day I spend it with you. Because in the days that we are apart nothing feels right, the sun gets this strange pinkish color and is brighter which I hate, and food acquires a bitter taste and the moon isn't perfect at night; not without you. And to answer your last two questions; no, I never ever dreamed my life being this good; and no, I never thought I guy like me could find someone like you much less make you mine. In case you didn't know I'm bought and already paid for. I'm yours, forever and ever. What about you, lover? Are you mine as much as I'm yours?" he asked, looking directly at my eyes returning my this-is-serious-business look. I hadn't even noticed that I was crying until I felt one of my tears wetting my hand. Then he placed a soft and tender kiss on my lips and got close to my ear where he whispered, "You are the thing dreams are made of." And then he went on and nuzzled my neck, inhaling and exhaling loudly, placing velvety kisses here and there in the spot where my neck meets my clavicle and above my shoulder.
I wanted to press pause and stay like that forever. I never wanted to be anywhere else anymore.
"Why are you asking me this?" He woke me from my daydreaming.
"I love you. I really do." I heard him chuckle a little bit while kissing the top of my head. "Mine." I said the words as if tasting them in my mouth. "That sounds good," I said, talking a little bit to myself.
"Mine?" he repeated with a husky voice whispering on my ear again.
"Don't you already know I'm yours since the first time we spoke?"
"Really?"
"Are you fucking kidding me? This gorgeous, tall, blue eyed guy with the most perfect nose and shoes not to mention an ass to die for comes close to me and sees that I'm buying Come Around Sundown and has the balls to mention that I looked like a girl who knew better than to buy that album?"
"Well, it's hard to believe you were mine at that point, I mean, you did ignore me most of the time you spend in that old record store."
"Well, you were acting like a moron. Besides, you know how I get when someone says something negative about Kings of Leon."
"Well, how was I supposed to know that? So you only noticed me because I'm good-looking?"
"Well, duh! That and also because you were wearing a red t-shirt, Morrissey?
"You remember?"
"How could I possible forget the day I met my very own personal blue-eyed Viking?" He smiled at me remembering the beginning of one of the most important things that have happened in my life, our lives.
"So, did you just come all the way here from your job to ask me if I love you? How could you not already know?"
"I was… insecure." I answered hesitantly.
"My sweet, silly little fairy. Never ever doubt the stars shine nor of my love for you," he said, kissing both my hands.
I was trying to find a way to tell him. Trying to find a way to make this perfect news into a perfect moment for us. How do you know if the man you love, loves you as much as you do? Because sometimes I feel like I DO love him too much. Too much for my own good. Is that even possible? To love someone too fucking much? You know when someone says 'I love you so much it hurts'? Well, I love Eric beyond that pain. Beyond this constant ache in my chest every single day, always. This ache that hurts so freaking much but at the same time it doesn't. And it feels heavy as lead but light as a feather. Like that feeling you get when you ride a rollercoaster and you go so fast you can't speak and you feel so full but at the same time you also feel empty and free and light. And then you also don't feel anything but also you feel EVERYTHING. From your lungs filling with air to the way your nails are attached to your fingers. How am I supposed to believe he feels those stupid little things too? How am I supposed to know if he is free-falling from the same height and at the same speed?
"I'm… I…"
"Sookie? What is it?"
"I, uhm, God! I wish I knew how to do this in a better way!"
"Sookie? What's wrong?" he asked, looking at my eyes with an inquiring look. The one he gets when he feels completely lost.
"Do you think it's enough?" I responded, not answering his question again.
"Enough of what?"
"Enough of… I don't know. Enough of us? Enough love? Enough of whatever it is that fairy tales are made of? What if it isn't?"
"Stop! Stop that! God, woman! You… you… Stop over thinking every single thing about us! I just…" he trailed off, rubbing his temple with his right hand. "I wish I could… I don't know, just… I wish love was something you know, tangible. Something I could give to you and you could smell it and breathe it in and touch and feel, but you know what? In spite or maybe because you refuse to see it or to feel it, I do. I feel it every time I touch you and when you enter the room I smell you and God! When we make love, I feel you. I REALLY feel you here…" He grabbed my hand and placed it on his chest, right on the spot where I can feel his heart beating, fast, faster than mine and also louder.
"This," he said, squeezing my hand a little bit, "us," he looked directly in my eyes, "you, especially you," he finished, touching my left cheek with tenderness. "You are all I need. YOU are enough. WE are enough. You are my place, you are where I ALWAYS want to be. US is all I ever want to be."
"I… I don't know what to say." I stated a little bit embarrassed of myself for not having anything remotely as good as what he just said. I was having a typical 'insert a witty comment here' moment.
"The thing is… God! You drive me crazy! It wasn't supposed to be like this but I need you to know. I need you to feel it as much as I feel it," He continued, stretching his hand to reach for the drawer on his desk.
He couldn't quite reach it before I blurted, "I'm pregnant!" Aaaaaaand there it was. I said it. I finally grew some balls and told him. I accept that it isn't what I had planned but then again I didn't think I would behave like the psychotic insecure crying mess I became when I entered his office. I suddenly became aware that my eyes were tightly shut. As if waiting for a ticking bomb to explode. But the explosion never came. Instead there was silence.
"Sookie?" he whispered in my ear
"Yes?" I responded with a high pitched voice squeezing my eyes even tighter.
"Open your eyes," he said in that husky sexy voice that is only his.
I opened my eyes slowly. Like a little girl would do after hiding in her closet for a long, long time just to realize there is nothing to be afraid of. Like when you REALLY want to see but you are terribly afraid of what it is.
And then… there it was. This small, squared black box which contains this scary sparkly little thing. Scarier than the dummy from Saw. Scarier than a pitch black endless room. All of a sudden I got this feeling on my stomach, the one you get when you are about to bungee jump or when you reach the highest point at a rollercoaster and you know they are going to let you fall.
"Marry me," he said with a steady voice. He knew better than to ask. He would know the answer would always be no, but we are talking about the man how knows me inside out so he isn't asking. He isn't giving me an order though, he is simply stating something.
"Look..." he says grabbing my chin so I look him in the eyes. "I know what you are thinking. Don't freak out. Amelia is my jeweler and she was just dropping by the ring I picked a month ago. You hear me? A. MONTH. AGO. I want you to be my wife. I want to be able to call you my wife. And I know you always told me that moving in together was as farther as you were able to go but, I think we are ready. I think, no, I FEEL you are ready. Me? I knew from day one I wanted you to be mine, forever."
I had to look like a mentally challenged person. He thinks I'm ready to be a wife? That's… really? I cannot fucking believe he thinks I'm ready to be his wife.
"So… we are going to be parents. I'm going to be a dad," he said as if rehearsing the words of a complicated Shakespeare play.
"I think… Are you sure? Bacause you know, even if I think that marriage as an institution is a whole lot of crap. I do believe in the forever part."
"I know you do. Sookie that's what I've been trying to tell you all along. Forever isn't enough time to be with you. You know that chick flick you made me watch 2 weeks ago where Julia Roberts has to go to India to… I don't know…"
"Eat, Pray, Love," I said, interrupting him.
"Yes, that one. Well, she goes to find this thing she lost along the way. Her… I don't know what it is called. But anyway, you are that thing for me, that feeling of absolute bliss."
"You paid attention," was the only coherent thought I had to share.
"Of course I paid attention. I always want to know what's in that pretty head of yours. I want to feel you above, under, in, on and every single place in between. Always."
"Can we… can we wait until the baby is born and I can fit into a decent dress?"
"Does that mean you are going to be Mrs. Northman?" he asks me with a huge smile.
"To tell you truth, I have an e-mail address with that last name. I just wanted to know how it would look."
"And?"
"It looks too fucking perfect," I say, kissing him.
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SPOV
He took my hands, "What do you want to do?"
"I think you already know what I want to do. You know me too well." Why isn't he looking at my eyes?
"I…I do," He said, still not looking directly at me.
"Hey, look at me," I said, placing a hand on his right cheek. "The question is, what do YOU want?" He yanked his hands from mine and started pacing in the living room.
"You know what would be fucking great…?" He was mad. His eyes told me as much. "That this wasn't happening. I hate this. I fucking hate this! Things were perfect, why couldn't they stay perfect? Pam was going to throw a Winnie The Pooh themed shower next week! This was supposed to be perfect. For fuck's sake! Perfect girl, perfect job, perfect family, perfect children, perfect wedding. Everything was supposed to be fucking heavenly!" He was screaming, but I think he was mostly talking to himself. "I don't want to make this choice. I don't want to think about it. I… I don't want to feel like this. I don't want to lose any of you. I don't know what I would do." He said the last part whispering. As if it was supposed to be a secret.
"The phrase is 'What ARE you going to do,' future tense. There is no probability here. Besides, you were doing fine before I came along. I'm sure you remember those days," I said, trying to calm him down.
"Hey, come here, sit down." He grabs the hand I offered him and sits down right beside me. "Here…" I say placing his hand right in the middle of my growing belly. "Can you feel him? He's going to have your amazing, long legs" He was kicking, right now, at this very moment when life dealt us the worst cards ever. He wants to be heard, and he WILL be heard.
Eric wasn't saying anything, but when I looked at his face he had tears in his eyes and running down his beautiful face. I'm not saying this was going to be easy and this wasn't how life was supposed to be, but there's nothing I could do to change things. Who was I to change destiny? If it were up to me, of course this wouldn't be happening. Not just to me, but to anyone in the world. I wouldn't call it acceptance, just because when you accept something you do it willingly. This is more like… shitty luck.
"See? He is talking to us. The way we talk to him, and play music to him. Can you REALLY feel him?"
"I do. I REALLY do." He was finally looking at my eyes and I was trying to tell him everything was going to be okay. That I already made my choice. Not that there was really any other path to take.
"No regrets, my love. Not now. Never, and you know never means forever, right?"
He managed to pull a very faint smile. "That's the only good thing Fall Out Boy left behind." I knew it was too much, and I needed him to know that this was going to be so much harder on him than it was going to be on me. Just because he would have to deal with everything after I was gone. That was the hard part. Above all, it was going to be hard raising our child on his own.
"It's still unfair. This is so fucked up. Why you, not me? Why does he have to be stuck with his father instead of you, the person that is willing to die for him?"
"I told you. No regrets," I said, covering his mouth with my hand.
"I can't do it. I'm so fucking lost when you're not around. I feel so empty whenever you are not in my arms. What do I know about babies? I can't… I don't… shit! I don't even know how to change a fucking diaper!"
"We have some time to teach you the basics. After that… play it by instinct. You'll be perfect. I know you will."
He threw himself at me and he hugged me and murmured things I couldn't understand. And I gave up and start spilling the only tears this thing would get from me. I swore that this doesn't deserve my tears. I listened to myself sobbing and I also listened to Eric's silent cries.
"I know it's 6 in the afternoon, but can we go lay down until tomorrow. I am very tired." He nodded on my shoulder, grabbed my hand and started walking towards our bedroom. We were letting the silence do the speaking, the screaming and the thinking. Because in that moment silence was the only thing keeping us sane.
I didn't want to be or do or take anything. I just wanted my Eric, my world. And he didn't disappoint, he held me and intertwined his fingers with mine right above my belly. As if we were holding on for dear life, and we kind of were.
Eric has always been a deep sleeper. I don't think he noticed that I left the bed every hour or so to go to the bathroom and then when I didn't return to bed at 3 in the morning. I've always had trouble sleeping, but this wasn't just lack of sleep anymore. This was a case of I-don't-need-to-sleep-because-I-will-sleep-permanently-in-18-months lack of sleep. No more time wasted in sleeping.
Like the control freak that I am, I started a to-do list. Not to be confused with a bucket list because… I give up, it IS a bucket list. And I was going to start early…
EPOV
I woke up to the sound of rustling sheets and when I tried to open my eyes I couldn't. I was exhausted; life was just too fucking much right now. I wanted to be oblivious of everything just for a little while longer. Apparently Sookie had other plans…
I felt the bed shifting with her weight, but instead of curling next to me she started nibbling on my left earlobe and running her hands through my hair; and here I am and all I can think about is that I wish I could go back one day in time so this would be the perfect way to wake up. Making love to Sookie when she couldn't sleep was a little bit of magical. She started undoing the buttons on my shirt since we didn't even changed clothes when we went to bed, while kissing my collarbone and nibbling my Adam's apple. I can't lose her. I'm going to die without her. What if I hurt her? "I know you're awake, honey. Why don't you give me a hand and take off your pants?" What is she thinking? "Sookie, wait. What are you doing?"
"What does it seem like I'm doing?" She continued placing kisses along my jaw and nibbling at my right earlobe…
"Sookie… I… I can't… We can't… What if I hurt you?" I said, trying to sound reasonable…
"Eric…" She kept kissing me but I wasn't responding, nor was ANY part of me for that matter.
"Eric…" She grabbed my right hand and started kissing it and then my wrist and then she took my left hand and repeated the process all over again. "Honey…" she spoke again, but my dick felt as dead as I felt right now. "Lover…" She knows she owns me when she calls me that. She kept kissing me, teasing me, nibbling everywhere… Then she grabbed both of my arms and placed them above my head… "Lover, Eric?" She had this wary look in her eyes and as she found my eyes it turned into this look of pure and unwavering love. Nothing more, nothing less; I really hoped my eyes said the same.
"Eric?" she asked, a little bit louder than a whisper. "Let it go Eric. Forget about it for the time being. Because we can't let it take away any more of our lives. Let it go. We have to take the best out of the time we have left, and this right here…" she trailed off, rubbing my dick through the fabric of my pants, "is the best thing in the whole world right now." And apparently my dick wasn't as sad as I felt. It seemed the 'other head' differed from the 'upstairs head.' I let out a sigh I was holding and as I did, my heart felt a thousand pounds lighter for the first time since this afternoon. I didn't recognize the feeling, all I knew is that it's the heaviest thing I've ever had to carry; and right now? Right now I was going to put it down for a minute or two…
I started returning every single kiss and caress. She was right, it was good to let go of all of it. Just to be us again for a fraction of time; without all the things we wouldn't have time to do or to be; or to take or give. In that instant we were just us, the couple that fell in love inside a record store.
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SPOV
The official diagnosis was cancer, specifically a grade 4 astrocytoma. Riiiight… In English that means there is an inoperable mass growing in my head. I only have a life span of 18 months, maximum. I might die giving birth to my first and only son. Or maybe life will pity me and let me live to watch him for a few months more. Either way, the truth is: I'm going to die.
And to think that it all began with one of the best days of my life. Eric told me to 'gear up' and to be ready at 7 o´clock. He constantly teases me because I have to take every single piece of memorabilia I own in case I could get an autograph… or 20. Only this time he told me it was a surprise and he wouldn't tell me the name of the band we would be seeing. When we arrived to the venue the billboard didn't have a band's name or anything.
"This is super secret stuff, lover," he said to me, reading my questioning look.
"Did the CIA and the FBI finally form a band?"
"Just wait until we get inside. You are going to love me."
"I already love you. Is this going to make me love you more?"
"Mhm," he hummed.
"Let's go then. I can hardly wait to love you more." He grabbed my hand and didn't take the tickets out of his jacket until it was time to give them to the guy at the front door.
He took me to see the recording of Kings of Leon Storytellers. Needless to say I started crying instantly. Damn crazy hormones!
They played all my favorite songs. And then Caleb went on to explain why he had written Revelry and at the end of his storytelling he said. "Sookie Northman. We know you have some of these lyrics tattooed and so this one's for you." I couldn't believe it! I was too fucking mesmerized through the entire song but when it came to an end I turned and kissed Eric murmuring infinite thank you's. It had been perfect. Perfect man, perfect band, perfect song. A perfect day. I almost felt like I should start singing an abnormally high pitched song in one of those perfect days form a Disney movie, like flowers were going to start blooming from the wooden floor-perfect.
It had been a magical night and I was going to make sure to show Eric that in fact he got me to love him more, as impossible as that sounded in my head but at the same time, it kind of didn't.
A little bit of water. That's all it took. A little bit of water that spilled when I was brushing my teeth. In my haste for changing clothes I slipped and hit my head with the edge of the bathtub. I didn't hit awfully hard. I didn't even faint. The only thing I got was a massive headache that wouldn't go away and after 3 days Eric was worried sick. He took me to the hospital and told the ER doctor what had happened and after about 3 hours of blood work, scans and what not this very nice doctor sat in front of us and pronounced complicated doctor words like "large mass" and "head" and "chemotherapy." I wasn't registering much after "large mass" but I did hear him say the words "terminate pregnancy". That was the moment I grabbed my handbag with my left hand and took Eric's arm with my right. I walked right the fuck out of there.
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EPOV
Life was beyond marvelous with her. After her diagnosis she didn't want to know anything about the cancer. She only went to her OBGYN appointments to make sure the baby was fine. And when we listened to the baby's heart for the first time it felt as if our hearts received an electrical shock. It awoke us from our slumber of death-thinking. She said she wanted to travel, so travel we did. We went to Paris to take our picture in front of the Eiffel tower. We went to Sweden to watch the sunrise. We went to Holland just because she didn't believe the windmills were really there. And when we finally made it back to home we would spend countless nights waiting for sunrises sitting in our balcony with her curled in my lap whispering things she thought would be useful to raise a child. Things like: "Never answer a question with 'it's complicated'" or "Always make sure to rent his Halloween costumes. Never ever attempt to make them." Days passed by and her belly grew and her eyes got this glimmer that got ripped out of her everytime she would have a seizure. She refused to take any medicine aside from her prenatal vitamins. She said she would never take anything that could be of risk to the baby. I knew her head had to hurt like hell but she would never complain. She was being strong for both of us. The thing that frightened me the most was the actual birth. She said it would have to be a natural birth. The risk of dying during childbirth for us was very high. She told me that she wasn't going to die giving birth to our son. That she would never ever do that to me. To leave me with the memory of our son being born and her dying. "Unthinkable," she said. And I believed it with all my heart. I didn't have a doubt.
Five months after we received the worst news ever, I was holding our son in my hands. He was a healthy boy. Sookie kept her promise and didn't die delivering our son. But her strong façade faded with time. She lost a lot of weight during the next month after our son's arrival and had huge dark circles around her eyes. The thing that would bother her the most was that she couldn't be left alone with the baby. She said she could have a seizure and hurt him. She would spend countless hours watching him sleep and also listening to his crying. She explained that listening to his cries made her feel a little bit more alive, even though she was almost dead.
"You know, it's funny how I gave you so much shit about the forever part of us and I'm the one checking out early," she whispered one night while I was feeding Dylan.
"You are not doing it on purpose," I replied.
"Tell me something you won't miss about me. Be honest," she said while she took a seat in the rocking chair.
"Well… I think…" he said looking at the ceiling for some answers. "I'm not going to miss the way you absolutely looooove Mumford & Sons. I really dislike them. And also your obsession with Kings of Leon. The way you won't accept they suck sometimes."
"That's it? There has to be something more."
"Nope. That's it. Everything else will be missed," he said, looking in my eyes.
"I'm sure you'll think of something else," I replied, tapping my chin.
"Change of subject, please," he suggested with pleading eyes.
"Hey, that reminds me! If he turns out as bad as I am in math please don't give him too much grief."
"I won't. I promise."
She died when Caleb was 3 months old. She died in my arms, sleeping. While I was whispering how much I loved her and how our life together meant everything to me. She died. She left me here to raise our "little lion man" as she used to call Dylan. "This isn't me leaving you. This is destiny making its way through me," she said before closing her eyes.
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EPOV
"Daaaaaad!" came a loud yell from upstairs. He misplaced something. He only yells that way when he can't find something and is desperate to get a hold of it.
"What is it? You need to hurry because you know Pam is going to flip out if we aren't ready by the time she arrives."
"The t-shirt. I can't find the one I want to wear!" He has thousands of t-shirts. I believe he owns t-shirts from every fucking band that has ever existed, some good some not so good.
"Just… I don't know, grab one that says 'I-play-good-music' to you. Your aunt is going to kill me either way." I hate yelling. So I start to climb the stairs towards his bedroom. Every single time I entered his room I saw her. Even though he never got to really know her, he was without a doubt her son. He looked like me, but he was everything that Sookie was, still is. He loved music more than anything and thank god he did learn to play an instrument just like she wished. He was very good at it which was a good surprise because we couldn't play anything. Every single time I entered his room I felt her hand on mine. I smelled her scent and listened to her laugh. She lives here, with our son, in our son.
Of course right now, the room resembled a scene from a war movie, you know, with dead bodies scattered and pieces of buildings and cars abandoned. Truth is… mine doesn't look like that different from his.
When I entered his bedroom, he turned around and put on his best pained look.
"Are you sure we sound good? I don't want to make a fool out of myself."
"Caleb…"
"Dylan, today is a Dylan day," he interrupted me.
"Ok, Dylan, your band is very good. Your guitar sounds amazing. Where was this insecurity hiding? You're pretty sure of yourself all the time." I wonder if he got that from me…
"I don't know… It's just… I want to make you proud, both of you. And before you say it, I know you are already proud of me. Music was her thing. It's just… sometimes" He wasn't good saying things, not with his mouth that is; now, his eyes were a whole other story. He knows how to say everything with one look. Just like his mother used to do. "It's okay, son, I get it. I feel like that most of the time. Now, to the task in hand, what are we looking for?"
"I want to wear mom's old Kings of Leon shirt"
"But I thought today was a Dylan day."
"It is, but I want to be wearing something that was hers on my first real gig."
"Okay. So, let's see. In which area of your room did you see it last?" I said signaling to the mess around us.
"Um, I don't remember?" It was only logical…
"Right, so I'm going to start digging around this side while you look for it on that side." I started lifting every possible kind of shit from the floor; magazines, shirts, dirty socks, earphones, books, empty boxes of who knows what and what not. "Are you sure it's here? Have you looked in the laundry room?"
"The laundry room!" And I just felt a light breeze left behind by my son who is running downstairs.
"Found it!" I hear him call from the stairs. And I instantly dropped everything I had gathered in my hands on the floor. I know if I ask him to clean he is going to ask me the same and that's not a conversation I'm looking for.
We are on our way to his first 'Battle of the Bands'. He has been playing lead guitar for a while because the truth is he inherited both of our shitty voices and he can't sing to save a life. He is very skilled with the guitar though which is why I went to the storage deposit Sookie rented some months before she died. She bought all kinds of things on our last trip. Things she said she would give our son if she could, but it became my task. And it was a bittersweet moment every time I would go and get something because it reminded me of what could have been; of how every birthday could have been, with her. I went there yesterday and sat for a while looking at the last two items that were left. THE book, she had called it. I hadn't read it and it irked her until her last day. I couldn't; not now, not without her. "A 100 Years of Solitude" sounded too fucking fitting since she died. It would mean the end of this little ritual of mine. To come here to sit and cry for a bit and be a little angry too. The book was going to be the hardest thing to give to our boy. She had written an amazing dedication and it was filled with her thoughts, every single page had a side note, a little piece of her thoughts; our little piece of her.
Today I'm not going to think about THE book. Today is all about the other item in the storage deposit. I think it was Sookie's second favorite item. She would enter every music store she would come across to and ask for a very specific item: a 1954 Fender Stratocaster. We didn't know shit about musical instruments, but she read at some music magazine that if you were looking for a special guitar and you had the money, you should buy one of those. So of course my lover would always look for that guitar. It was the last thing she bought. Now that I think about it, the guitar was the last item and the book was the very first thing she added to the collection of things. She said she wanted him to feel that she was constantly thinking about him, her Caleb and my Dylan, our very own life's flavored milkshake.
A/N: Title comes from a line at the beginning of Alejandro Gonzalez Iñarritu's movie "Amores Perros". Please review.