Page 43 of Falling for Grace

“Oh, Sue, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” she says through her own emotion-filled voice.

“Why are you saying sorry? You’ve lost your baby boy,” I say, tears still coursing down my face. She looks at me, holding my wet cheeks in her warm hands. I look down at her kind blue eyes, which are shining and bloodshot, and she nods.

“I know I did, but you lost a part of your soul.”

I’m not sure which one of us gets pushed down by the pain and hurt before the other, but one of our legs gave out, and the other just crumbled to the floor with it, letting gravity pull at us, too tired to fight, our arms holding each other as we fall into a heap on the floor and grieve.

We sob until there is nothing left in us, and even then we continue to sit on the floor in the hallway, gripping onto the other like an anchor weighing us down in a sea of grief.

Chapter 16

Iwipe at the condensation on the mirror. My haunted reflection stares back. My grey eyes are bloodshot and swollen, my skin pale, my hair wet and clinging to the sides of my face. Droplets of water cascade down my skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

In this house I am surrounded by childhood memories. Snippets of my past pop into my head at the strangest moments, and I find myself smiling as well as feeling deeply sad and empty.

So very empty.

All the times we sat up talking until the early hours of the morning, until Ted or Sue would appear and cast a single look which was code for “Go home, Gracie.” Me sneaking through my blue front door, my parents always knowing where I was.

Number 5.

The yellow house.

Tiredness seeps into my body now, the jet lag beginning to hit, and my exhausted brain screams for coffee. I hear voices filtering up from downstairs and I decide I’ve been hiding in the bathroom long enough. I move through to Brandon’s bedroom to get dressed. It’s time to face my forgotten family.

No, forgotten is the wrong word. I never forgot them.

Sue and I had eventually peeled ourselves off the floor and she had made me a cup of tea. We hadn’t said much to each other, but she had remained close by, holding my hand as we drank our tea propped up at their kitchen counter. I wanted to know what had happened, but it didn’t feel right to ask. Ted had come to my rescue, delivering me a towel, and I had taken my exit, standing under the warm jets for as long as possible, emptying the tank of all hot water in the process.

I pull on a pair of worn blue jeans and throw on an old baggy hoody. I have chewed its sleeves so that my thumb could poke through, which is gross, but right now all I want is comfort. I open my suitcase, which is laid out on Brandon's bed, and place my wash bag back in along with the clothes I wore on the plane. Closing the case, I sit on the edge of the bed.

The room is the same, and I’m shocked to see that so many items from our childhood play such a prominent part of the room. The bed is the same, the chest of drawers is the same, even the pictures on top of the boys and me. I can’t bring myself to look at them right now, but I take comfort in knowing that they’re there, that they haven’t been boxed up and forgotten. Memories of Brandon and Danny are overwhelming. I smile. I can picture us all crammed into the room, listening to the soothing, dulcit tones of Incubus in the background as we talked about everything, anything and nothing.

A soft knock pulls me from my memories. Ted pokes his head around the door. “Brandon’s flight is about thirty minutes out. I’m heading to the airport to get him. Do you want to come?”

“Why don’t you stay here with Sue?” I hear myself saying, the words out of my mouth before I can even stop them. “I’ll go and get him.”

Thank you, brain, for that.

But then I look at Ted. The last few days have clearly taken their toll. His shoulders look like the weight of the world is resting on them. Grief physically pushing him down.

He looks at me for a moment then nods. “You sure you remember how to drive on the left-hand side?”

I smile and stand up.

“I’m sure I can manage it.”

He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips, and he pulls the keys from his back pocket and passes them over to me.

“Besides, I can go and check in to the hotel and drop of my stuff before heading back here later. If that’s okay?”

“Of course, my girl. Sue’s already planning dinner. I think keeping busy helps her.”

Maybe that’s why I want to go and get Brandon. Because being around the house is so hard and I want to keep busy because stopping is…stopping is bad.

I pull into the drop-off lane at the departure area at Heathrow's Terminal 5 and sit waiting patiently outside. There is one thing I didn’t think through when I offered to pick up Brandon—well, two things, if you also consider I want to shit myself.

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