A New Normal

"DADDY!"

Vanessa shot bolt upright in bed. The cobwebs of sleep melting from her brain in the rush of adrenaline, she immediately tore out from under the covers and dashed down the hall. She skidded to a stop in front of the door bearing the sign "Jenny" (Princess...) and burst into the room.

Jenny was sitting up in bed, her hair tangled in front of her eyes. She was sobbing. Was she ever not sobbing these days? Vanessa shook her head and sat at her daughter's side. Immediately she felt wetness seep into her nightgown from the sheets underneath her.

"Sweetie, sweetie, shh, shh..." She hugged Jenny close to her, rubbing the back of her head soothingly as the girl's head buried itself in her shoulder.

"I killed Daddy!" Jenny sobbed.

"Oh, no, no, honey, you didn't..."

"Yes, I did! I pushed him in front of the car, and—"

"It was just a dream, sweetie, just a dream..." She blinked back the tears welling into her own eyes; she had no time for own tears. She had to be strong, for her family. "That's not what happened. You didn't kill Daddy. It wasn't your fault."

"Daddy hates me!" Her little body convulsed with each hysterical breath.

"He doesn't, baby, I swear, he doesn't. He still loves you very much, and he's watching over you in heaven, and he wants you to be happy..." Her voice, now dropped to a near whisper, seemed to be having an effect; slowly, ever so slowly, Jenny's heaving back began to steady, to calm. Finally, Jenny pulled away from her mother, just enough for her reddened eyes and tear streaked face to be visible. Vanessa caressed her daughter's cheek to wipe away the tears. "Do you want to sleep with me tonight?" Again? It was the word hanging, but left unsaid. Jenny nodded mutely. "Okay. Then why don't you change your clothes and wash up, then go to mommy's room. I'll be there as soon as I can." Silently, Jenny slipped out of bed and scampered out of her room.

Vanessa sighed, her eyes closing for just the briefest of moments — as if she could open them, and Norman would be standing there in front of her, alive, wondering what all the fuss was about... But of course, that didn't happen. She removed the sheets from Jenny's bed, wadding them up into a huge ball she carried in her arms. When she emerged from the bedroom, the doors to the other two bedrooms were open. Sasha and Britney were standing there, bleary eyed, the latter practically leaning against her door frame.

"Go to bed, girls, it's okay," Vanessa said.

"No, it's not," Sasha snapped. "It's never gonna be okay. Ever."

"That's not true..." Some distant part of herself wondered if she really believed what she was saying.

"This is the third night in a row!" Britney whined. A spark of irritation flared in Vanessa, but it was quickly smothered. Of course she had every right to complain. She was suffering just as badly as Jenny.

They all were.

"I know," she said. "I'll call the therapist tomorrow to move up the next appointment."

"For us too?" Sasha said flatly.

"All of us, me included."

"It doesn't help." The teenager slumped, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Nothing helps. Jenny still has nightmares..."

"Well, they won't go away if we just do nothing," Vanessa snapped. She took a deep breath, squelching her frustration, before she continued. "It's only been a month. It'll get better. I promise you, it will get better. As long as we have each other, we can get through this. Your..." She swallowed. "Your father would want us to go on."

"Why did this have to happen?" Sasha's voice cracked in the middle of the sentence. "Why did this have to happen to us?"

It was something Vanessa had wondered almost hourly ever since she got the phone call from the sympathetic police. "We didn't do anything. Sometimes bad things just... happen, and it isn't anybody's fault. Nobody's," she added, her voice as firm as she could make it. There was no reply. "Go back to bed, you two; you have school tomorrow."

"I don't hate her."

Vanessa blinked at her middle daughter. "What?"

"I don't hate her," Britney repeated.

There was no doubt who she was referring to, but Vanessa was still tongue tied for a moment. "Well, that's... that's good..."

Britney looked up at her. "You don't, do you?"

"Of course not." That's what she felt, that's what she meant, that's what she said. Yet for some reason, for some inexplicable reason, she hesitated before saying it. It wasn't long — barely half a second. But she felt it, felt the gulf in time. "I'll check up on you two after I get this in the laundry. Good night."

"G'night," the two girls muttered, almost in unison, as they retreated into their rooms, closing the doors behind them.

Vanessa plodded to the laundry room and stuffed the sheets into the washer. She'd deal with it tomorrow. She paused, her ears pricked in the direction of her bedroom. No sound came; that probably meant Jenny was asleep... hopefully.

Well, that makes one of us. She didn't know if she'd get any more sleep tonight. Her feet took her to the den before she realized where she was going. That was how she ended up in the study; she would never have gone inside had she been aware.

There was a fine patina of dust over everything, especially the rows of model cars. Norman would have hated that, she thought automatically. As long as she was awake, she considered starting the process of packing up this room, but as much as she knew that they'd have to get rid of these memories sooner rather than later... She didn't want to.

She collapsed into Norman's office chair, burying her face in her hands. "Oh, God, Norman..." She wept in a way she hadn't wept since the funeral. Who was it for? Her late husband? Herself? Her children?

Why not everyone?

Vanessa looked up towards the ceiling, gleaming tear tracks streaming down her face. She could almost imagine seeing her daughter above her, sleeping soundly. She thought again about Britney's question.

"You don't hate her... Do you?"

Ridiculous. Jenny was a child. She had no idea how dangerous what she did was. And given the choice, Norman would have welcomed his own death over Jenny's a million times over.

(Keep telling yourself that, keep telling yourself that...)

But that didn't make her any less of a widow. That didn't ease the burden she had to now bear mostly alone. That didn't erase any of the messages on her voice mail, with very sympathetic inquiries completely understanding that she needed to take some time for herself and her family, but when did she plan to return to the office...?

Her eyelids fluttered; her energy was draining as quickly as it had come, weeks of emotional turmoil starting to catch up with her. She struggled to her feet, and went back to her bedroom. Indeed, Jenny was asleep, sprawled in the middle of the bed. In the moonlight, she looked peaceful... almost angelic.

My baby girl... All of her doubt, every dark thought, melted away at the sight. Her child needed her. They all needed her. She had to go on. For them.

She carefully lowered herself into bed next to Jenny, who barely stirred. Vanessa allowed her daughter's head to rest on her shoulder, heavy but warm. She gently kissed Jenny on the forehead and closed her eyes.

As sleep overtook her, she hoped her dreams would be what Norman would've wanted them to be.