~chapter four~
autumn
"Hi, Finny," I whisper, dropping to my knees in front of the stone. I remember the day Aunt Angelina had to pick out a spot in the cemetery. I remember the night she came home, broken, barely holding on. I remember the way she fell into Mom's arms, gasping for breath. "My boy," she had wept. "My boy, my baby."
At the funeral, she stood before us: me, Mom, my dad, and Finny's. Sylvie and Jack came. A bunch of people from school came to pay their respects at the visitation but we wanted the funeral to be between family. Initially, we didn't even want Sylvie and Jack to come but they were both important to him, he loved them, and that mattered more than our own familiar grieving.
Aunt Angelina was the first to speak. She kept her eyes on Mom the entire time. I think it was to stop herself from losing it. It didn't help much. "I never thought–" and that's all she got through before she crumpled to the ground, her body shaking as she wept next to her son's headstone.
During those times, Mom, for the first time, I think, was the strong one.
"I know it's a couple days before your birthday." I ran my fingers over the engraving. P-H-I-N-E-A-S S-M-I-T-H. "Don't worry. Auggie and I'll come by later this week. I just needed a moment alone with you." I sighed. "He's growing up. Our son." I smiled. "He's turning fifteen this spring. Fifteen. Can you believe it?"
I imagined him laughing next to me and shaking his head in wry disbelief.
"He's becoming so much like you. He's trying out for soccer in a couple weeks. I'm sure he'll make it. He plays goalie. At least it isn't offense. At least it isn't football."
He wrinkles his nose at that.
"My dad wants to meet him." I pick at the grass. "It's been fifteen years since I last saw him. And when he finally reaches out to us, he wants to meet Auggie. I'm not bitter about that though. I'm bitter about how insistent he is about it. He wasn't insistent about coming to your funeral. He wasn't insistent about coming by the hospital when Auggie was born. He wasn't insistent when I first published my book or any of the ones that followed. It was always, 'Oh, well, if that's what you want.' And when I've finally— finally— figured out how to live without him and happily, he fucking insists upon meeting Auggie."
"Am I invited?" he asks. "I'll punch him in his stupid fucking face."
I lay down so I'm on my back, my head resting on his stone. I close my eyes and begin talking. I tell him about my new book idea, a collection of twisted fairytales. "That's just like you," he says. "Something conventional and something wayward, intertwined to create something beautiful." He laughs at all the perfect moments when I recount all the memories I can think of. He runs his fingers through my hair and peppers soft kisses against my face. When I tell him about my favourite song of late, he asks me to sing it for him and I do, terribly off-key, but he claps anyways when I finish. I update him on his mom and he nods. "Tell her I said hi," he says. "Tell her I miss her." I assure him that I will. It grows late enough that I can see some of the stars. The Big Dipper glows faintly and I point it out to him.
"I miss you."
He's quiet.
"I miss you so much. Every day. Everybody told me that it wouldn't hurt so much over time but God." He reaches over and wipes the tears off my face. "It hurts so much. Every day I still wake up and reach for you. Your clothes don't smell like you anymore. It feels like you're here but every time I look for you you're not there." He pulls me in, letting me cling to his shirt. "I miss you, Finny. And the worst part isn't when I'm missing you, it's when I'm not missing you. It's when me and August go on bike rides and- and fuck me, I'm happy but you're not there. It's when me and The Mothers are in the kitchen and we're singing and dancing around and when your mom spins me and I- I don't feel so alone anymore."
He smiles and now we're both crying. "I want you to be happy," he says. "I don't want you to be alone." He leans down, pressing his lips to my forehead. "You don't have to torture yourself for my sake, Autumn."
I shake my head, my fingers knotted in his shirt.
"You don't," he repeats. I still shake my head.
"You don't you don't you don't you don't you don't…"
~~~
I pull into the driveway at 10:34. I glance up at Auggie's room to see if he's still awake. His light's turned out. I sigh and retrieve my keys out of my bag. I insert it into Aunt Angelina's door and let myself in.
I stop.
"Mom?"
I drop my things and cross the room until I'm at his side. "Auggie? Baby, what's the matter?"
He reaches out, his hands ghosting across my face. "Mom? Are you okay?" His face is red. His eyes are puffy. His hands are shaking.
"August, what's the matter? Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?" I turn to The Mothers. They're crying as well. "What happened?"
August launches himself at me, squeezing me tightly. He presses his face into my shirt and it grows wet as his shoulders begin to shake.
I hold him, running my hands up and down his back. I look at Mom and Aunt Angelina, looking for a clue.
"We thought—" Aunt Angelina started. She clears her throat. "We thought you had… You were late…"
It takes me a minute to understand.
"Oh, baby."
I wrap my arms around August. "August, I wouldn't– I–" I hold him closer, feeling his heart beat through his back.
"I thought you were gone."
His voice is broken. Scared. It reminds me of my own voice, how it sounded every time Mom came home from the hospital. How he sounds every time I come home from the hospital.
And I hate myself for it.
This stupid cycle that I can't do anything to stop.
I pray that Finny's genes won out. That he isn't another notch in our fucked up wheel of genetics.
"I'm sorry, August," I tell him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for scaring you. I'm so sorry."
"Don't do it," he pleads. "Don't do it. Don't leave me, Mom. Please. Please. Don't leave me."
"I won't," I promise. "I won't. I swear, I won't." I curl against him, fighting to hold him like I used to. He's growing too fast. Everything's going too fast. "I won't leave you," I tell him. Like I always do. "I won't leave. I swear."