Here at Last (25 page)

“I'm fine," I told her. "I'm just changing. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

I lay on my bed with my eyes
closed
practicing a breathing technique that we had learned i
n meditation. While this helped
, I wasn't sure that
I could
keep it up once I went back downstairs and rejoined the
family
.

Slowly, I reached for my
cell
phone and began typing.
Do you ever feel like you can’t breathe?
I lay my phone down beside me and closed my eyes again.

It chirped a moment later
with Nicholas’s reply
.
No b
ut some do.
Where are you?

In
New Jersey
a
t my parents’ house.

What triggered it?

Seeing how happy my sister and brother-in-law are.
And my parents are stressed out.

Does anyone know what's going on?

I was a little confused.
Yeah.
We’re here for
Christmas.

I meant with you.

Here we go again.
No.

Do you know?

What kind of question wa
s
that
?
Yes. I feel like I can
’t
breathe.

You're about to have a meltdown.

I looked questioningly at my phone.
Really?

You need to tell your family what's going on.

I don't want to ruin Christmas for them.

Really??

My sister knocked on the door.
“
Hey, Sis
? Are y
ou okay?”

“I'm fine. I'm on the phone. I'll be
out in
a few minutes."

“Okay,” she said, sounding a little concerned.

Call me if you need to. I'll be up late.

It was Christmas Eve
,
and
I didn
't want to bother him anymore.
Thank you. I've got to get back
to the party. Merry Christmas!

I was feeling better and remember
ed
that I
’d
told my mother
that
I was changing my shirt. I put on something a little looser and went back downstairs.
Filling
my voice with false cheer
,
I
played with my niece and nephew
s
that evening.

After a while, m
y sister came over to me and asked me how I was doing
.
I told her that I appreciated
her
concern.
Following Nicholas’s advice,
I
also said
that
I was having
a difficult time
but was
trying to work
through it. She understood that neither of our parents liked to discuss anything remotely personal
so
my
telling
them would ha
ve fallen on deaf fears
at best
.

“
Do you have someone in Chicago that you can talk to about this?"

That was an awfully familiar question. "Yes.
We were just
on the phone upstairs."

She raised an eyebrow.
“Oh?”

“
T
exting.”

“Listen," she said. "I know that I've never been through what you
have, but I’m here
i
f you
need
to talk.”

I reached out and squeezed her hand. "
Thanks, Rhonda. That means a lot
. There is one thing," I paused. "Why
can’t I ever
cry?" Being the older sister, she was sometimes able to recall things that I didn't.

"Gosh, don't
you
remember?"

I shook my head.

“
W
e got into big trouble with D
ad one day.
You were probably four or five.
You
pitched a fit and
began to cry. I knew better
,” she smiled ruefully
.
“
He shouted at you and told you
to stop
wailing and that he did
n’t
want to hear another
sound
from you. You went to bed without dinner that night, and I had to sneak food
to you at
bed
time
so you
’d
have something to eat
.
You we
re terrified of
Dad
for a while
after that
.
"

I nodded. “Yes. I remember
that
now.
He s
cared me to death."

“
That was th
e last time I ever saw you cry.
"

"
Do you cry?
"

She smiled.
“
No
t
around
Mom and Dad."

I thought about that conversation
when I
went to bed that night. I was greatly relieved that Rhonda
had
remembered
that story
. It
certainly explained a lot
.

A
s
far as
Christmas was concerned
, I thought that the worst was over, but
I was wrong
.
That night,
I dreamed of JT's funeral and wa
s consumed by guilt
given that he’d
been
about to
answer
my call when
the accident occurred
. If I had
n't called
at
that very instant, he might
ha
ve
been able to swerve and avoid
the driver
who’d
hit him head on. I had a lot of dark dreams that night and didn't feel much like celebrating Christmas when I awoke at five o'clock the next morning.

I got up to go to the bathroom and passed
Matthew
in the hallway and was exhausted. “You don't look so good," he told me.

“I didn't sleep very well.”

Soon, the house would be filled with
“Merry Christmases" and
the gleeful sounds of my niece and nephew
s
, and
I knew that I would
n’t
be very good company. In fact,
I realized,
I had been foolish to come here on this first Christmas.
What
had I
been
thinking?
My parents weren't a support system
;
in fact,
they could suck the life out of anybody. M
y sister was so busy with her family that there wasn't
much
time
to talk. I felt the need to be someplace quiet. Would
it
be terrible for me to leave on Christmas morning when I was having such a difficult time
with JT’s death?
I didn't want to abandon everyone
, but I also didn’t want to ruin the day for them
. I just hadn't realized how hard this would be.

I was supposed to leave in two days but knew that I would feel better if I could
just go
home and sleep. I logged onto my laptop computer and checked flights. Surprisingly, I found one
and booked it
.
If I changed my mind, I could always
not
go to the airport.

Just when I finished packing my suitcase,
I noticed
my mother
standing in
the doorway. She was up earlier than usual. “What's going on?" she asked.

“Mom, I've really enjoyed
spending the last few days
with you and D
ad
, b
ut I probably should
n’t have
come here this Christmas. I really need to be home alone.”

Not known
as
a particularly
sensitive woman, my mother crossed her arms and looked angry. “Do you realize
how much time
your father and I
spent cleaning
this room before you came?"

“
I
’ve
been
here for four days."

“If I'd known
that
you were
n’t
going to stay here the
entire
time, I would've put you in
the
little reading room.”

“Mom,” I closed my eyes
.
“
I’m just really having a hard time.”

“With what exactly? People lose their loved ones every day. You
’ve
had months to get over this. It's time to get on with your life and stop feeling sorry for yourself."

I began to get angry. My mother had never been able to empathize with anyone. Standing here
,
now, I remembered several instances when Rhonda and I
had gotten
hurt
as children
, and she would
always
manage to turn herself into
the martyr.

I took a deep breath.
“I'm sorry you're disappointed, and I'm sorry
that
you spent so much time cleaning the bedroom
,
”
I told her.

My father
appeared in
the hallway. "What's all this racket out here? How is a man supposed to sleep in his own house?" Then, he noticed my suitcase. “
W
here
do
you think you're going at this hour?"

I sighed wearily. “Home.”

He glanced at my mother
and back
at
me. "What
’s
this
all about
?"

“I'm sorry, Dad. I shouldn't have come here now.”

"Why not?"

“Because this is my first Christmas without JT, and it's harder than I expected."
Like so many times when I was younger, I felt like I was on the verge of tears but
didn’t dare cry
.

My father shook his head. “You
’ve
had lots of Christmases without JT. Hell, you only met him a few years ago. You'll be fine."

“I love you both, but I'm going home.
Believe me
, i
t will be better for all of us."

I walked past my parents, who stood in silence as I carried my suitcase down the stairs and out the door.

Christmas morning t
raffic at the airport was light
so I returned the rental car early and got to my gate with time to spare.

A
text came in fro
m Rhonda.
Mer
ry Christmas, Sis!
Good thing you bugged out of here when you did. Mom won't talk to anybody, and
Dad’s in
a lousy mood. So
,
what's new?


I smile
d. At least I had Rhonda. I sent
her
a
text wishing her a Merry Christmas
and apologizing for any problems
that I had caused
at home
.

S
et
tling
back in
to
my seat
, I
slept all the way to Chicago. When we landed, I picked up my car and drove home where I
dropped my suitcase by the door and walked
into the kitchen to make
lunch.
I was starved.

Just then, I got a text message from
Nicholas
.
Merry Christmas.
How are you
doing
?

Much better.

Glad to hear it. What
helped
?

Getting on the first flight
back
to Chicago.

Serious?