Page 33 of A Me and You Thing
Bree is trying to calm the girls, without success. I turn and she hands Josie to me, followed by Jordyn. I hold them close to my chest and hug them too tightly, but they don’t seem to mind. I swear they cling to me just as firmly. I close my eyes and absorb their comfort. I don’t know how they recognize me with my overgrown beard, but they quiet in my arms almost immediately. Their little fists grip my clothing, and they refuse to let me go.
They just want to be held. By me. I think my heart begins to defrost as I feel their love. I still have something to live for, something that is as close to Quinn as I can get.
Our babies. The ones we made together.
I do my best to comfort them, but I know I’m a poor second. They’re nearly nine months old now. I’ve missed half a month of their lives. Now I understand why Quinn was so hesitant to leave them. Why did I encourage her to go? What was I thinking? Did I pressure her into it?
I just wanted her to be happy, that’s all. There’s no sense in wallowing in regret. It felt like the right thing at the time. It’s only hindsight that rears ugly remorse. I never thought something like this would happen. I never thought I’d lose her. I wanted to grow old with her. Now that dream has been cruelly snatched from me, from all of us.
“No sign of her?” Dad asks, his breathing heavier than usual. I can’t even begin to think about losing him too.
“No, I searched everywhere on the off chance she survived the crash. I couldn’t find her.” My voice turns husky. “I couldn’t find her anywhere. She’s really gone.”
I didn’t even think about searching for the other Americans, absorbed in my own grief as I was. My own loss consumes me. I should’ve done that, though. Maybe it would’ve led me to other paths, other places to investigate.
No. She’s gone. There’s no coming back from this. False hope will eat me alive.
Mom hands the girls each a warmed bottle, and their tiny hands reach for them. “They’re all ready for bed.”
Maybe they are, but I’m not ready to part with them. Mom gives them each their favorite blanket. They both clutch at them desperately. My arms are full with a part of Quinn, the most important part.
“What’s this?” Adair asks quietly, pointing to the vase.
“Ashes from the crash site.” I blink, my eyes feeling gritty and very heavy.
Bree is watching me with silent tears streaming down her face. I look away, unable to witness her grief. I turn my gaze on Charlotte and Harlan, which is even worse. They’re sitting across from me with sorrowful expressions. It’s nearly my undoing. I see a little of Quinn in both of them. Harlan’s cane sits next to him, one hand gripping the top tightly. Arthritis has nearly crippled him; he can barely walk some days. His head shakes in an odd way, as though he’s trying to be stalwart and contain his emotions.
I can hardly look Charlotte in the eyes, the pain reflected there is so deep. The loss of her daughter has hit her hard. She looks ten years older, ravaged with pain, both mental and physical. Clearly, the two-week Grandma Gang time didn’t turn out to be quite what everyone anticipated. Not at all.
Charlotte gets up slowly, wincing from the movement. She approaches the table and holds the vase in her hands. “So she died in the crash? She really did?” She begins to sob before I can answer, returning to the couch and collapsing onto it while holding the vase as if it’s Quinn, just as I did the entire way home.
It hits me then that my actions have filled everyone with false hope, hope that I’d somehow find her, that the information was wrong, that she survived, or that maybe she wasn’t even on the bus.
I let my breath out heavily. “As far as I can tell.”
Amidst Charlotte’s sobs, everyone just stares at me blankly, occasionally wiping away a tear or two. The room remains silent as no one knows what to say or do. We just sit together with anguished, unbelieving expressions, hoping to garner strength from one another. No one moves to leave. No one tries to speak. We just sit on our butts, with disbelief as our constant companion.
Sit and stare.
It’s the absolute worst moment I’ve ever endured, the lowest I’ve ever felt.
I haven’t cried often in my life. My wedding day, the birth of our twin girls—those days brought tears to my eyes. They were happy ones, though. I’ve spent nearly two-weeks very much alone as I searched for Quinn. Yet, I didn’t allow myself to break down completely.
Now, as I sit here with everyone watching me, everything becomes real and I lose it. My timing sucks, but I can’t control it. I lower my head, my shoulders shake as I try to contain myself—and I cry. I weep like I’ve never done before. I bury my head in between my two precious daughters, hiding from observant eyes. I don’t want this to be my life.
I want Quinn.If I could shout it from the rooftops, I would. If it would make her return to me, I’d be on the roof right now.
JOSIE’S CRIES BLARE at me loudly from the bedside monitor. Before I know it, Jordyn joins her. The Grandma Gang has been gone for two days. TWO DAYS. And I’m freaking exhausted already. Quinn made taking care of twins look easy, as though it was a walk in the park on a sunny day.
Now it feels like taking a walk down a dark and lonely road at midnight. I’m lost and alone.
Adair has returned to her home in Arizona. The stress of losing Quinn caused my father to take a turn for the worse. Mom needed to return home to him. She was reluctant to leave me until I assured her that I was fine. A total lie. We both knew it. But she can’t live with me forever.
I could hardly speak to Charlotte. Her brown eyes are so like Quinn’s and her grief was so palpable. I told her to go home and take a break. I knew she was exhausted. She can’t replace Quinn—no one can. She wants to help, but her health limits her. Fibromyalgia is an unseen monster. I’m surprised she survived the two weeks I was gone.
My freezer is stocked with ready-to-go casseroles I haven’t touched. My house is sparkling clean. I don’t think I could find a speck of dust if I tried. The cupboards are full, and there’s not one single baby supply demanding a quick trip to the corner market. Everything is in order. Everyone is back where they belong.
Everyone except Quinn.
