Kimberly sat at Tommy's bedside reading the newspaper like she did every evening after Noah went to bed, hoping that maybe the sound of her voice would bring him back to her. She felt so alone and so incomplete. As she sat there, without realizing it, she started to cry. It must have been five minutes before she realized that the letters on the newspaper were becoming blurred and runny. It had been so long since some one had just touched her. Not like the hugs from her son, or the comforting hand from the nurse. Just to be touched, to feel like somebody loved her.
Is that why you haven't come back to me, she thought. The tears were uncontrollable now. She let go of the newspaper at this realization. Knowing that maybe Tommy was too far gone to even feel for her anymore…..it was to much to bear. She sobbed with her head on her knees, shaking violently in the chair.
"Why won't you come back to me," she all but yelled to the body on the bed before her, "Its not fair. I loved you. I've cared for you. I gave you a son. I've raised your son alone. All alone. You should have been here. You should have fought harder. Why? Why did you give up on us?"
"Mommy," a small voice came from the door and Kim's head shot up.
"I'm sorry for waking you baby," she said and went to hug her son, "Go back to bed and sleep."
She kissed his forehead and sent him on his way down the hallway to his room. She dried her tears, picked up the newspaper from the floor, folded it neatly and placed it on the table next to Tommy's bed. The steady beep, beep of the monitor reassured her that he was still in there, some where.
"I'm sorry for yelling," she whispered in his ear, "I love you. Always." She kissed his cheek and gave his hand a squeeze. Then she turned down the light and left the room for the safety of her own.
"WHY WON'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE?!" Tommy yelled at the top of his lungs. He was standing in the middle of his living room, his hands on his head with tears in his eyes. The empty bottle on the table reminded him of his fears. No more alcohol to drown out the voice in his head. He heard her. He heard her cry. He heard her yell. He heard her tell him she loved him. He felt like his head might explode.
Maybe Jason was right. Maybe I should go there, he thought. Was it really out of the question? He had buried so much of the past in that place. She died there. Maybe she had died in his arms. He didn't know. That part was completely blank. He couldn't remember anything after the paramedic took him outside that night. How was he supposed to go back to that place? How could he just walk into the place that she left him?
"If it will make the voice stop," he said to no one, "I'll go. I'll go and I'll end this." With that solid resolve he went to his computer and booked himself the first flight out. He threw a few things into a bag and called a taxi. There was no way he could drive in his condition.
Kimberly woke early the next morning to start breakfast. She hummed a tune while she flipped her pancakes on the stove. This was going to be a great day. She could sense it. There was sun shining through the kitchen windows. There were birds chirping outside and she felt fantastic for the first time in who knew how long. It was like some kind of peace had settled over her house during the night.
Noah woke up and came down the stairs, happily humming as well which would have seemed strange to Kimberly if it hadn't been for her own humming and her increased happiness. Emotionally, she felt like her outburst the night before had gotten more off her chest than she realized. It was a new day and maybe the start of something new. At least it felt that way.
"Ready for school," she asked Noah with a mile and steaming pile of flapjacks.
Tommy stepped off the plain in West Palm Beach to beautiful Florida Sunshine, shaded to him by his very dark sunglasses due to his pounding head and the sensitivity to the light. He hailed a cab and gave the driver the address and climbed into the backseat. It was about a twenty minute drive due to traffic but as they pulled up to the house, Tommy breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that it was untouched. He held the key steadily in his hand and walked up to the front door. He had a plan and he had every intention on following through with it. Every step of the way.
The house was still when he walked in the front door. It was quiet. There was nothing in the rooms. Not a scrap of paper or knick knack left behind. The only reminder of that last night in this house was the stained hardwood where Kimberly had bled out on the floor. He could tell that his friends had tried to get the blood out but the wood had soaked it up. It was going to be there forever. A reminder for all of time that she died there. Her blood would be on that floor and it would be the one thing to let him know how much he had failed her.
"You can do this, Tommy," he told himself, taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes for a moment, "Just breath."
He walked through the rest of the house, sensing nothing. No presence. Not a sound. Not a whisper. Not a hint that she was there. Not even in his aching head. It was gone. That voice. Her voice. She was gone.
He kept walking. Up the stairs. To the closed door at the top of the stairs. He touched the door knob and felt strange. It was like a nauseating, dizzy feeling. He opened the door and a soft energy filled the space he entered. The room was empty, save for the book shelves that lined the walls. It used to be Kim's make shift library. Yet he felt strange here. Felt like he needed to leave but wanted to stay. It was like being pulled in two directions. Ultimately, he was unable to stand the sick feeling that this room gave him and walk out, closing the door behind him and making his way down the stairs, back to that spot. Something stopped him as he reached the bottom of the stairs. The front door was wide open.
Tommy was no longer alone.
Kimberly set down her bags of groceries and pulled the key from her front door. Something was different here. She looked around slowly and gazed around the room. Nothing was moved. Nothing was out of place. Something just felt different.
"Hello," she called into the house, "Anybody here?"
"Miss Kimberly," shouted the nurse as she hurried down the stairs, "Thank goodness you are back!"
"Why? What is it," Kimberly asked, getting excited for a moment, "Did he…?" She couldn' bring herself to say it.
"No ma'am, but something strange happened while you were gone," the nurse explained in her thick hispanic accent, "I was in Mister Tommy's room checking his vitals when out of nowhere the door opened. By itself."
"What," Kimberly said, a bit annoyed.
"I'm not kidding. It was like somebody walked in, and then just walked out. Ey Chimama, I was so scared," the nurse said, making the sign of the cross over herself and kissing her rosary. With that she grabbed her purse from the table and walked to the door.
"Please be safe, Miss Kimberly," she said, looking around the house like it was the Amityville Horror and then leaving without another word.
"O-kay," Kim mouthed to herself ad took her groceries into the kitchen and started dinner.
Tommy kept making his way around the house. Waiting to see if he'd find somebody there, but nothing. He saw no one. He heard no one. Now he knew he was nuts.
"Alright," he said to the house, "I'm here, Kim. Talk to me."
Nothing.
"Really?" he yelled, "I come all this way and now you shut up? Five years of non stop talking and now you've got nothing to say to me?"
He stood in the middle of the foyer and turned in circles to see no one. He heard nothing. This was ludicrous. Nothing about this made any sense. He knew this was a bad idea. All this way for absolutely nothing.
"Hey Tommy," she whispered, "How was your day?"
