Chapter Three: Inconceivable
A/N: POV will be first person from here on out, with narration being marked.
Jeff's POV:
I got to the hospital with Dad and Matt early in the morning. We were told where Taylor's room was and the three of us went in together. I couldn't go in alone. I hadn't been allowed to see her and the idea of seeing her hurt and hooked to machines was a lot to take in.
She looked so broken and fragile and small in that big hospital bed with all the wires and tubes everywhere. I pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down next to her, taking her hand in mine. I just looked at her and I could see slight resemblances even with the tubes and bruises. She had my blonde hair and my mother's nose.
We were in there for two hours before Ms. Kingsley showed up to talk to me. Dad came with me and Matt stayed with Taylor. We discussed all the legal terms of custody, like me transferring Taylor to a new school and things like that, which made me realize that my travelling all the time could be an issue. When I brought it up, Dad said Taylor could stay with him during the school week while I traveled.
Just before Ms. Kingsley was about to leave a final thought occurred to me that had nothing to do directly with Taylor. It was Tamara. With no family, what would happen to her body?
"Her body is unclaimed in the morgue here. I was considering what to do about that situation, but taking care of Taylor was a more pressing issue."
I didn't think before I spoke.
"I'll take care of it. Can I see her?"
"Jeff, are you sure?" Dad asked me.
"Yeah. No matter how bad things turned, she was the mother of my child. I can't leave her like this. You taught me better than that, Dad."
"You've grown into a good man, Jeffrey."
"I'll bring you to the morgue. Follow me."
I went to the morgue without Dad or Matt. I needed to do that alone. It was strange going down there. On some level, I couldn't process I was going to see Tamara's body.
Flashback: Sixteen Years Ago
Tammy had been pissing me off like nobody's business. Maybe it was time to call it quits. I loved her more than she knew, but every time I tried to hug her or she found out I was out doing motocross or any of my normal stunts lately she got really pissy and we'd fight. How much of this was I supposed to take? All of a sudden it was like she wanted me to turn into some suit for her. That wasn't me and I wasn't going to change for her. She needed to accept me for who I was or we weren't supposed to be together.
I picked her up for our date and she looked distracted. I leaned over and tried to kiss her, but she pulled away from me.
"Jeff we need to talk."
The five words to kill a relationship. Maybe she knew things weren't working between us as much as I knew it.
"I'm listenin', Tammy."
"I want you to stop doing all the crazy things you do. The wrestling, motocross, all of it."
I was floored. Did she really just ask me to give up everything that was important to me?
"Tammy, we've been over this! I'm not changing who I am because of you! Wrestling is my career, not a hobby!"
"You're still young, Jeff. You could learn to do something else."
"No."
"Jeff, I need you to do this."
"I can't change who I am."
She started to cry. Part of me wanted to make her feel better, but part of me was mad at her for wanting to change me.
"Jeff, I'm pregnant," she said as she handed me an ultrasound picture.
I stared at the ultrasound picture, not able to process what I was looking at or what she said to me. We were gonna be parents? We were both in deep shit.
Present:
I was looking at Tammy's body, covered by a thin sheet on the steel slab in the morgue. Just like the ultrasound picture sixteen years before, this scene made no sense to me. How could this happen?
"Tammy, why'd you leave?" I asked, crying for the girl I'd lost for the second time in my life, this time permanently.
I signed the paperwork in the morgue and worked out the details with Ms. Kingsley. Tammy would be buried with her father the following week. The lawyer would help notify her friends. I went back to Taylor's room and waited at her bedside, hoping my little girl was like me enough to pull through this.