Thanks so much for all your reviews last chapter!
"What if no one's watching,
What if when we're dead, we're just dead?"
- Ani DiFranco, "What If No One's Watching"
The day Niall's supposed to leave to come pick up Rachel, the Flagstaff area is walloped with almost a foot of snow. Juliet sits on the couch with David, watching Rachel pace the room on the phone. She's trying not to listen, but all the same, if she really wanted to leave Rachel on her own, she could have just gone into the other room.
"You're going to kill yourself if - " Rachel is saying, then pauses for a long time. "...I swear to God, if... No, I'm telling you, I'll call the hospital, it's not like they won't resched... Goddammit, will you stop with the macho - ...THANK you. Jesus fucking Christ, was that so difficult?" Rachel pauses again, laughs a little. "OK, see you later. Much later... Thanks... OK... OK... Me too... OK, bye."
Rachel finally hangs up and flops onto the couch next to them. "Give me the baby," she commands, and Juliet hands him over as requested. Rachel lifts him up, touching her nose to his. A month old already, holding up his own head. "David, promise me you will never be a macho dumbass who thinks he can drive through a foot of snow in a twenty-year-old truck."
David waves his arms a little, bumping her chin with his hand.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Rachel replies before looking over at Juliet. "Anyway, he's gonna wait 'til they plow. Which could be, like, two days for all we know."
Rachel's supposed to begin her next round of chemo in two days, and Juliet bites her lip thinking about what her sister's headed back to. "OK. Do you want me to call the hospital for you?"
"Nah, it's OK. I'll... I'll do it later." Something achingly sad passes across Rachel's face for a split second before she presses the baby against her, tucking his head under her chin. "Goddammit, I so don't want to go back there for that shit."
"I know," Juliet whispers.
"Here there's a cute baby, and decent weather." Rachel glances around Juliet's tiny apartment, the ivy plant that's clearly seen better days. At least she can keep her baby alive, if not the plant. "The accommodations are somewhat lacking, though."
"Also, that cute baby just spit up on you."
"Fuck."
Two a.m. in the haze of ongoing sleep deprivation: Juliet's with David in the glider when she hears Rachel mumbling from the living room. She waits for a few minutes, watching the baby's face and not entirely sure of what she's hearing. Is she supposed to go out there? It's just, as soon as she stands up, the baby's going to wake up again, stuck between the choices of Awful Sister and Uncaring Mom and College Student Who's Never Fucking Sleeping Again.
Finally she does stand, swaying with David, ignoring his whimper of protest.
The living room isn't quite dark, candles still burning on the coffee table; they'd lit them earlier in an attempt to eradicate Eau de Old Pizza and Horrible Diaper Incident. Rachel is all crammed up against one end of the sheet-draped couch, her knees drawn up almost to her chin. Muttering under her breath, something like, but she fell.
"Rach?" Juliet whispers, not sure whether her sister's awake or asleep or what.
Rachel inhales sharply. "I was asleep?" It's somehow a question.
"Yeah, with candles burning. Real safe."
"Mmph, shit, I'm sorry."
"That's OK." Juliet steps forward, blows them out. The smell of sulfur fills the room and David starts crying in earnest. Shit. Didn't think that one through. Juliet grabs the bouncy seat and carries the baby back into the bedroom. She puts the seat on the floor, straps him in, jiggling the seat a little. David blinks away a tear, looking amazed. "Keep that thought," she encourages him.
Back out in the living room, Rachel's stretched out on the couch.
"You OK?" Juliet whispers from the doorway.
"Yeah, I just... had that dream again."
"What dream?"
"You... you know the one I told you about? Where you, like... go away?"
Except Juliet's not the one going away. Rachel's the one who's scheduled to leave this time. "I remember," she whispers. Her bad shoulder throbs suddenly; she rubs her hand over it.
"What if..." Rachel trails off, doesn't say anything else for a long time.
Juliet's always been the one comfortable with silences, but not this one. "What?" she finally asks.
"You know how... how you're dead in those dreams?"
Juliet actually feels her knees weaken now, the thought of leaving David behind; she digs her fingers into the door frame. "Yeah," she manages.
Rachel's got her arm pressed across her face, over her eyes. "I've had that dream ever since we were kids. What if... what if it's really me who dies?"
"Did you... I mean... It's not like you ever really thought I was actually gonna die, did you?" She's speaking too fast all of a sudden, pierced with fear and she's not at all sure for whom.
"Well, no..." Rachel makes a sort of high-pitched sound that may or may not be a sob. "What do you think there is after we die?"
"I'm not a theologist."
"Wouldn't it be cool if we all got another go at it?"
"Like reincarnation?"
"I guess... but, like, not as different people. Because, what would be the point if you didn't even know it?"
"I don't think it works that way."
They're both silent for awhile, Juliet counting the ticks of the second hand, waiting for David to start crying.
"What if, what if I never have what you have?" Rachel says suddenly.
What do I have, Juliet almost says before her eyes dart over to the tiny white shirt curled up on top of her Biology of Proteins textbook, the baby swing in the corner. She finally sits down on the end of the couch, next to her sister's feet. Gently, like this entire thing is a bomb that could detonate at any second. "Rachel, you're gonna have whatever you want." And for some reason in Juliet's mind, there's Rachel, her hair full and thick and past her shoulders, darting around a playground with a toddler.
"I just, I hate this, I want it to be over," Rachel bursts out. "More fucking chemo, no guarantee it's gonna work this time, either, and - and I think about Mom, and - just..."
(They usually never talk about this.)
Juliet slides her hand slowly over Rachel's foot, squeezing her eyes closed.
"I get why you kept him."
"...What?"
"You were scared of being left all alone."
Her eyes blink open. So dark in this room, but she's convinced Rachel's looking right at her. What's she supposed to say? "He's not - it wasn't -"
"It's OK. I mean, I get it."
"It's going to work," Juliet says fiercely, suddenly. "It's gonna work." She says it like she knows it's true, like because she's saying it, it will be true. That's exactly what Jack would do. In the next room, David starts crying again. "I - I have to - "
Rachel lets out a long, ragged sigh, sliding her arm back over her eyes. "Just go," she mutters.
The next day, their father calls the airline and buys Rachel a plane ticket back to Flagstaff.
Juliet drives Rachel to LAX in her Volvo, feeling very much like a suburban mom in her thirties.
She's actually sitting on her couch fucking crying when Jack lets himself into her place; what the hell was she thinking, giving him a key? She jerks away from the door, flinging a hand over her face. "Jack - could you just - " Go away, is how she wants to finish the sentence. Doesn't.
He practically flies over to her. "What's the matter? Is David OK?"
"David's fine; he's asleep."
"What is it?" He's sitting next to her, leaning in, looking way way way too concerned.
Where is she even supposed to begin with that? "I miss my sister?"
He looks confused. "Already?"
"I should be there for her. And I'm, I'm just..." She shakes her head. "I have to get to class. You guys gonna be OK?"
"Juliet, you don't have to go to class if you're this upse-"
She hoists up her backpack, waiting. Just go, Rachel had said.
Jack is watching her doubtfully. "If you want to take a nap..."
"I want to go to class."
He holds up his hands. "Go to class."
Thank you for not trying to fix what can't be fixed, she thinks.
Late Spring 1991
Sitting in the pew of a church? Not exactly something Juliet's used to. David is strangely quiet as the priest goes on about something she's not really paying attention to, sliding her eyes over to Jack. He gives her a reassuring smile.
On the other side of him, Ray and Margo and Christian pretend not to notice her looking. Juliet looks forward again, toward the priest and the pretty stained glass and the none-too-cheerful crucifix. Then down at her former roommate Penny's shoes, the champagne-colored slingbacks with the gold trim. Same damn shoes Juliet acquired the night David was conceived, she realizes suddenly. (How depressing that she hasn't had sex in an entire year. Not that she's supposed to be thinking about... that in a church, though, right?)
She wishes she could say that she was coerced into this, getting David baptized, but she'd gone along with the whole thing a lot more willingly than she would have ever expected in the past.
Jack had called her on a night he wasn't staying over, wanting to know (yet again) if his parents could visit the baby that weekend. He still stayed over a fair amount of nights, but she and David had settled into a better schedule as he was able to go for slightly longer stretches between feedings.
"Jack, have I ever said no?" Juliet had demanded, finally exasperated enough to say something about it. "If they want to see the baby, they can call me, you know."
"I've told them that," he said uncertainly.
She'd felt herself softening toward him. Again and again and again, they're up and down and who even knows where they stand, both working way too hard in school, on sleep schedules probably even weirder than they'll face as doctors. All she knew was that Jack was stuck between a rock and a hard place with her and his parents. Obviously Margo and Christian have everything to lose by giving Juliet a hard time about anything, and they usually visited on Saturdays for a couple of hours, or maybe a weeknight now and then, bringing David a present more often than not. Painfully polite, all of them. Sometimes Jack would be there; sometimes not.
It was better when Ray came alone. If Jack wasn't around they would crochet together, or take the baby for a walk. But other than right before the trip to the DMV to sign the Volvo over to her, she and Jack didn't exactly talk a whole lot about whatever is or isn't going on with his parents.
Until that Saturday about a month ago. David had been incredibly cranky all night and all morning, and she'd been achingly close to calling the Shephards to cancel. She kept telling herself she'd call in five more minutes, until it was too late to call them before they left.
If the Shephards were any normal kind of parents, they'd look at the dark circles under her eyes, the fact that she was wearing a baggy UCLA T-shirt and faded sweatpants, and take the hint. Instead, Margo was cooing at the baby, Christian peeking over her shoulder, and Juliet had just stood in the middle of her living room wondering where the hell her own goddamn father was. Either father, at that point. Rachel had said something about finding their biological father to demand bone marrow, but when Juliet had asked her about it recently, Rachel had evaded giving an answer.
Anyway, Jack showed up a couple minutes after, his parents already settled on the couch with the baby. Juliet was never sure whether she was supposed to sit with Margo and Christian, or leave them alone, and she was relieved to see Jack. Except right after he nodded at his parents, Margo and Christian had exchanged a look. "Did... ah... Jack, did you speak to Juliet yet about...?"
"Dad, Juliet looks pretty tired right now."
They'd looked over at her then; she was standing close to Jack, maybe too close, but if she could have stood directly behind him and hidden, she would have. Margo looked a little tongue-tied. "Well, first of all, maybe it would be more helpful if sometimes we took the baby for you? Just for a couple of hours. Give you a chance to rest."
"I..." ...think that sounds like both a wonderful and an absolutely fucking terrible idea at the same time.
Margo had fluttered a hand into the air. "You don't have to decide now, dear. Just something to consider. As for the other matter..." She'd paused, reaching down and stroking the baby's cheek. Big mistake, because he turned his head and started looking for a food source.
That at least gave them all a break; Juliet never nursed in front of Jack's parents, always bringing the baby to the glider in the bedroom. Jack knocked softly on the bedroom door a few minutes in. "It's me, can I come in?"
"Yeah."
He sat on the edge of the bed, near the glider. David was wiggling his feet contently. "My, uh... What they were trying to get at out there was, they wanted to know if you were going to have David baptized. They're Catholic, and..."
"Oh." This surprised her; his parents hadn't exactly struck her as the religious type, what with the alcoholism and enabling and all. Or were they somehow judging her for having an unfortunate, illegitimate child?
She'd flushed, looking down at the baby. It wasn't exactly like she bought into all that Wash Away Your Sins crap. He was a baby, for god's sake, how could he possibly have been born with a sin on him? Even the stupid so-called sins of his not-exactly-smart-that-drunken-night parents?
And of course, there's another part of her that wanted to complain about this not being the Shephards' concern, what she did with her baby. HER baby. OK, hers and Jack's, but still. "What do you want?" she'd asked suddenly. Because, horror of horrors, she actually would appreciate his thoughts on the matter.
Jack had shrugged uncomfortably. "I'm OK with whatever you want to do. Although a big part of me wants to tell them no."
"Why?"
"Well... let's just say that none of my reasons are very mature," he'd admitted.
Juliet's mind unspooled to Christmas night, unwrapping that box with the car keys inside. Worrying about the ways the Shephards could try to control her if she accepted that car. But it's not like baptizing David could hurt him any, right? It's not like she's going to end up sending him to Catholic school or anything because Margo and Christian wanted it... right? "Would a priest even do it? I mean..." How is she supposed to say this without it being awkward?
"Because we're not married? Or because you're not Catholic?"
"The first one, I guess. Or is the second one even an issue?"
Jack had shrugged. "They said it's OK. I guess they already checked."
"Oh." David finished eating, and Jack automatically went to the changing table, found a clean cloth, draped it over his shoulder. He lifted up David to burp him, rubbing his big hand over the baby's back. And again, Juliet had started thinking about what she hadn't had as a baby. What David does. And the fact that out in the living room, there were two people, even with all their flaws and their painfully clear attempts at winning her over, but fuck, at least they were there.
Now Ray squeezes her hand briefly as they bring the baby up to the baptismal font. He's acting as godfather; Juliet's friend Gemma as godmother - because, go figure, wild child Gemma is actually Catholic. They baptize the baby David Reid Carlson, Reid for her mother's maiden name, although when they get to the last name Juliet shifts her eyes away from everyone, even Gemma, feeling like she's betraying the Shephards even though it's not like David's last name is exactly breaking news to any of them.
The Shephards hold a party at the house after; Theresa and Laura are there, Juliet's friends from the old dorm. Matt and Stacy, her new neighbors she's become friendly with. A handful of Jack's friends, although there's only one she remembers from when she and Jack were actually together. A few of Margo and Christian's friends, and a couple of doctors from St. Sebastian's. Ray's lady friend Ella. (Juliet wonders if this is the one who'd taught him to crochet.) It's actually... kind of nice, in its own way.
"What, no booze at this thing?" Gemma plops down next to Juliet on the patio chairs.
"Jack's dad is a recovering alcoholic."
"Awesome," she says dryly.
"Yeah."
"Well, at least they're loaded."
"Wow, did I miss you last semester."
"Of course you did. I'm awesome."
And there, Juliet wishing she could combine Gemma and her sister into a single person. A single, snarky, healthy person who's sitting next to her right now. Not the pale, weak one she'd seen when she'd taken David out to Arizona over spring break. Scarf on her head again, missing two fingernails this time around. ("Hey, I take as many naps as the kid does right now," Rachel had pointed out. Juliet had cried in the bathroom.)
But she supposes these days, she's making her own family, her own friends, not like when Rachel had to be the one to invite Theresa and Laura to share dinner with them. Maybe Margo and Christian know what they're doing with their God after all, if it can bring everyone together for something like this.
But then she remembers that night in the hospital with the Ouija board, whispering to her imaginary mom, and that planchette not moving at all, and she remembers Rachel's dream again, and she hopes she didn't just bring David into a huge made-up story.
"Jack hid some champagne in the garage," she finally says, and Juliet and Gemma sneak off to be college kids for a few minutes.
Thanks to eyeon for the baptism suggestion! Please forgive mistakes as I'm brutally tired right now. I'll probably republish this a million times like usual though.