I Still Love You

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Chapter One

Jason

“Look up at me and keep your eyes open.”

“Jeez, you’re so bossy tonight.”

Rach stuck her tongue out at me. “Do you want eyeliner in your eye?”

I laughed, but it wasn’t really with humor.

“Don’t laugh; I can’t do this if you’re laughing.”

To be fair her hands were really shaking, they had her on so many meds since her melt-down, her body was having difficulty functioning, but she was determined to get out tonight; no way was she missing Saint’s first Halloween. She was doing her, I-have-to-do-this-because-this-is-what-moms-should-do-with-their-kids thing, even though Saint wasn’t even one. He wouldn’t know or care if he’d been out trick or treating.

“Jason. Concentrate. Sit still and look up for a moment.”

I did. The eyeliner pencil trembled along my lower eyelid.

We were going out as a zombie bride and groom. She had me covered in white powder paint, and then she had red smeared around my neck and mouth. She was powdered white too, her lips were really red, and she’d painted a slash on her face with dripping blood, plus she had loads of gray eye shadow under her eyes, and thick mascara and eyeliner. She put the eyeliner down and reached for the eye shadow.

“Keep looking up.” She dabbed it beneath my eyes then smeared it with her thumb. “There… ” She put the eye shadow and picked up the mascara.

“Uh-uh, I don’t need that.”

“You do, you’re eyelashes are too pale, they have some of the powder on them.”

“Oh crap, go on then, only don’t tell a soul you’ve gotten me wearing mascara.”

She laughed, awkwardly, as she brushed it on my quivering eyelashes, her hand shaking. Her laugh was never quite there these days, that’s what was knocking my mood back.

“Careful I don’t want that thing in my eye.”

She laughed awkwardly again.

Behind us Saint was in his crib, gurgling and kicking his legs up at the toy that hung over his head. He’d just been fed and he was full up, happy and full of life, and ready to go out trick or treating in his little pumpkin suit.

Rach leaned back and looked at the creation she’d made of my face. “There, you look awesome. I’ll get your wig.”

I looked in the mirror; the make-up did look pretty cool. She returned with my shaggy, dark haired wig, and slipped it on carefully so it didn’t mess up the make-up. The thing immediately started itching.

I’d put on costumes for Halloween before, but I had never gone this all-out.

I stood up and lifted my arms zombie style to grab her. She screamed and ducked back laughing in a way that sounded a little more real. “You can’t kiss me, you’ll ruin the make-up!”

I laughed, just because I was glad I’d made her laugh more, and grabbed her around the waist, lifting her off her feet and spinning her a little, then I set her down.

The emotion inside me was like a brewing volcano, A few weeks back I’d nearly lost her, she’d nearly killed herself and she’d nearly hurt Saint… but not deliberately. Her bipolar had hit an overdrive button into an extreme high, then crashed to an unbelievable low; she’d just gone down. She’d been up and down for months, because she’d given up the drugs to breast feed, and it had been like riding on a rollercoaster, but then it had suddenly rocketed way to high and she’d just flipped completely. She’d turned into someone I didn’t know, and then she’d taken an immediate rollercoaster sized dip down. She’d had to go into hospital to straighten out. Then when she had come out she’d been so drugged up there was no talking to her.

But my Rach was coming back to me now—slowly. Peeping through the shadows of the meds.

She was laughing again, and the sound of her laugh gripped at my soul, even if sometimes it did sound awkward. That was why I didn’t mind letting her put mascara on me. I was glad she was here to put mascara on me… and glad she was up for going out tonight.

All week I’d been convinced she’d pull out of the idea. But that had probably been dumb, because this was not about her—it was about Saint, and she had always wanted to be the best, most perfect Mom, and do all the things for Saint her mom had never done for her.

Of course she was going to take him trick or treating on his first Halloween, hell, in one of her mad moments she had even baked him a birthday cake after he’d been born—in the middle of the night, and it had been blue…

But that was my crazy Rachel.

“Hey.” I brushed a strand of her wig from her face. “Are you feeling okay?” She was going out trick or treating, but we were also supposed to go out to a party later tonight and she really didn't want to do that.

“Yeah.” She shoved my hand away, she did not like thinking about what she’d done, or being sick. She was running from the fact she was sick now, pretending it had not been her.

I let her go, and let her run. I was playing things any way she wanted.

I’d talk to her about the party after we’d been out with Saint. I did want to go. I felt like we both needed a bit of normal life for people our age.

“Come on, let’s go show your Mom and Dad our costumes.” We’d planned on trying to move out of my parents’ place this fall, but now, after what had happened, it seemed best we stayed here so Rach had someone around when I was at work.

She bent down to pick Saint up. The little guy did look really cute. “Wait.” I picked up my cell and took a selfie of the three of us. She smiled for it. She hadn’t got the fire back in her eyes yet either, her meds were still quite high as the doctors were working out the balance she needed. She was never the carefree crazy person that I’d first met now. I felt a little sad about it, because it was like she wasn’t herself. I wanted her to be herself again.

I turned the cell around and showed her the picture. “I’m gonna tease him horribly with that when he’s all grown up. You do know he is gonna hate you for that costume… ” I grinned at her.

She laughed, and her laughter rattled through my bones, and seeped into my soul. It was a proper laugh. That was better than nothing, and maybe her spark of wildness would pierce her meds at some point too.

“Come on.” I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her to the door, opened it and swung it back then let her go first.

Mom had let Rach borrow her wedding dress… that said how much my parents loved her. They did truly love her like a daughter.

I had a suit on, one I’d bought for the interview when I’d gone for the job in New York—the move that had found me Rach.

“Mom!” I called as we walked into the living room, when I heard her in the kitchen.

Dad looked up and grinned, then he stood up. “Let me get the camera, I have to get a picture of you three. You look wonderful.”

Shit, I was never going to live this down either. But then I caught our image in the mirror and we did look good. She’d done a really good job with my make-up.

“Oh. Wow. Look at you. I’m surprised Saint isn’t screaming.” He wasn’t, he was smiling at his Mom, trying to pull her wig. “And that little man looks adorable as a pumpkin.” Mom came over and took him from Rach’s hands. She lifted him and cooed at him.

Dad came back in with the camera, then we all had to pose, and Dad told us three times, “Not spooky enough,” and took another picture as we made faces.

When the posing was over, I went back into the den we used as our bedroom and picked up Saint’s little sweetie-gathering pot, and then came out holding it up. “Time to trick or treat!”

Shit, I felt down tonight myself, and I shouldn’t feel down, it was a big deal for Rach; it’s just I knew the old Rach would’ve been racing around super-excited, laughing and shouting, and cheering, and teasing me for wearing make-up, but this Rach was subdued, even though she’d laughed. It was like the meds were keeping her chained up.

But when she’d been on no medication at all I’d been getting exasperated and lost, because I never knew what mood she was going to wake up in, or what she’d be like when I came in from work, and I’d gotten really tired because when she was high she never slept, and I’d woken up loads of nights wondering where the hell she was…

I walked into the living room and she smiled at me. I smiled too. I had to get over this. I had to just be happy for her. “Come on.”

She turned to Mom and took Saint back. He’d gotten a good grip on her wig and pulled it so it was wonky.

“Here, I’ll take him.”

“No, I want to hold him when he knocks on his first door.”

“You do realize he is too little to actually knock.” I laughed at her.

“I’ll hold his hand.” That was a stubborn, sharp answer. Yes, she knew I was not in the best of moods. I needed to cheer up.

“I’ll put the sweetie-bucket in his other hand and hold that then.”

“Have you got the trick?”

I patted the pocket of my suit jacket. “Yes, ma’am, I have the trick… ” It was a worm in a can, if I opened the can it would pop out.

She took a breath, like she was gathering up a little courage, then said, “Let’s go then,” and smiled at me.

“Bye,” Dad said.

“Bye,” Mom nodded at me, smiling.

When we walked out the door, my hand settled at Rach’s waist, but as I shut the door behind us she turned and looked at me. “Jason, please be in a good mood.”

“I am.”

“You’re not, not really, I know I’m hard work lately, but, just for tonight, can we try to enjoy it… ”

So she was feeling down too, and trying to force herself into happiness. I gave her a hug, my arms about her and Saint. “Sorry. I am happy. This is going to be fun.”

“Smile then.” Had I not been smiling much? Shit, I guess it wasn’t just her who was not like her old self.

I smiled. “Smiling.”

A tear escaped her eye. Shit. I dabbed it off with my thumb. “Don’t spoil your make-up, you spent hours on making yourself look that awful.”

She laughed, the sound was ripped from her throat, it was nowhere near a happy sound.

“Come on,” I slipped my arm around her shoulders, determined now to make this a good night and even more determined to get her to the party. I glanced at Saint. “Well, little man, there is one house we are not going to, and that is that bastard next door who kidnapped my ball when I was a kid. I am warning you about him right now. So let’s start on the other side of the street.”

There were loads of people out, all talking and laughing. I breathed out, and tried to force my bad energy out with the breath. “Let’s go and spook Mr. and Mrs. Bishop.” I nodded at a mother vampire with three little ghosts as we walked down to the sidewalk, then we walked up the driveway to the porch of my parents’ nice neighbors.

I looked at Rach, then I looked at Saint. “Here it is, your first trick or treat.” I was talking to both of them, it was true for both of them.

She smiled, properly smiled, I could see it lift up out of excitement as she lifted Saint’s hand. It made me smile more too as I wrapped his other hand around the sweetie-pot, and held his fingers closed over it.

“Ready to knock,” I whispered at her. Her fist was closed over Saint’s and really it was her hand that knocked, but they did the action together.

She grinned at me in silence, as we waited for an answer. I could see her heart pulsing in the vein flickering at the base of her neck. It was cold, but we were only trick or treating in our street so we hadn’t ruined our costumes with coats, and Saint was warm, snuggled up in his woolly pumpkin onesie.

The door handle turned, then the door opened. “Trick or Treat!” I shouted in unison with Rach.

Mr. Bishop smiled at us, “Well what do we have here? A little pumpkin looking for a treat… What have we got for a little one? Edna!” He shouted over his shoulder.

Mrs. Bishop appeared, waving a small packet of white chocolate buttons. “I think these ghostly treats maybe okay, maybe you could have one at least… ” Her hand lifted and she squeezed Saint’s cheek. “You are such a cute little pumpkin. I could make pumpkin pie of you and eat you all up.”

Rach laughed.

“Sweeties in the bucket or you’ll get a trick, and we are not being fooled by any witch wanting to make a pumpkin pie of us.”

Mrs. Bishop laughed as I made Saint hold the bucket out further, then she dropped the sweets into it.

“Thank you Mrs. Bishop, Mr. Bishop,” I acknowledged before I turned away.

“Happy Halloween!” Rach shouted as we walked down the steps. I looked over at her. She had enjoyed that.

“Come on then, let’s do another.”

We did the whole street. Well every house bar my dad’s next door neighbor who I still didn’t like, and at the end of it Saint had a whole pile of sweets he was way too young to eat, and about half a dozen lipstick kiss marks on his cheek. But there was one more place I wanted to go before we called trick or treating a night. My aunt’s. She had asked us to go over there and it wasn’t all that far to walk.

“Are you okay if we go on over to Aunt Helen’s and Uncle Mike’s, she was desperate to see us dressed up with Saint?”

“Yeah, that’s okay.” Rach looked at me and smiled.

“Have you enjoyed it?”

“Yeah.”

“Still up for going over to Billy and Lindy’s for the party?”

She nodded, “Yeah.”

We were meant to be sleeping over there, but she hadn’t yet agreed to that.

The street was busy as we turned out of the close where my parents lived. Aunt Helen’s would only take fifteen minutes to walk to from Mom’s. The air was crisp cold, it bit through my jacket a little. Rach only had a thin wedding dress on. “Wait a minute.” I stopped and stripped off my jacket and rested it over her shoulders.

She smiled. “Thanks, but you are spoiling how we look.”

“I’ll put it back on again when we get to Aunt Helen’s.”

I put an arm around her again and tucked her in close, as she held on to Saint. It was nice walking down the street, beneath the stars, with loads of people milling about in weird costumes all talking and laughing. Stupidly, this felt like the most normal thing I’d done in weeks.

“I’ve enjoyed it too,” I said to her. Her head tipped against my shoulder as we kept walking.

I looked at Saint. “Hey, little man, don’t nod off and drop your sweeties, you earned those.” I took the bucket from its cradle between him and Rach.