By the middle of August, she’d stopped doing almost everything. She had to remind herself to shower and wash her hair. The only time she even got out of bed was to welcome her husband home, and she saw the sadness in Miles’s eyes when he looked at her then.
She knew she was depressed. Miles kept asking her to “see someone.” He didn’t understand how deep this new darkness in her ran and how afraid she was to let go of it. She didn’t want to get better. Really, she just wanted to be left alone. On the rare day when she even thought about trying, she told herself that Zach needed her, that Miles needed her, that she’d always thought of herself as a strong woman, but the words were like snapshots found in a drawer that showed a stranger’s life. Impossible to care about.
Now, she and Miles were out on the back patio, pretending to be the couple they’d been before.
Miles was in the lounge chair beside her, with his feet stretched out. In his lap lay an open newspaper, but she knew he wasn’t really reading it. They all tended to avoid the news these days; there was always a story about drunk driving somewhere within the pages. She felt him looking at her, but she didn’t meet his gaze.
Instead, she counted the minutes until she could make some excuse and go back to bed. She was holding Mia’s unset, unfinished ring in her hand. She did that a lot lately, just held it.
“You should put that away,” Miles said. There was a taint of irritation in his voice that had become familiar.
“And go on,” Jude said. “Yeah. I know.”
“This can’t continue,” he said, raising his voice.
She was startled by the volume. “Save your surgeon voice for people who work for you.”
“You’re letting it drown you. Us.”
“It.” She finally turned to him. “Our daughter’s death. So what, I’m overreacting? How disappointing for you.”
Miles tightened his jaw. “Enough. I’m not going to let you turn me into the bad guy who didn’t love Mia enough because I can still somehow love my son and my wife. You need help. You need to start.”
“Start what? Forgetting her?”
“Letting go. It’s not healthy to keep hanging on to her. Zach needs you. I need you.”
“And there it is. The real point. You miss your wife, so I better toe the line.”
“Damn it, Jude, you know that’s not what I’m saying. I’m afraid we’re going to lose us.”
Somewhere deep inside, she felt the sting of that, and the truth of it. She experienced a rare desire to explain, to try to make him understand. “I went to Safeway last night. At midnight. I thought no one would be there. And I was right. I wandered around the aisles, just looking at stuff. When I ended up at the check stand, I had four tomatoes and ten boxes of Lucky Charms. The cashier said, ‘Wow, you must have a lot of kids.’ I stared at her and thought, How many kids do I have? What do I say to people? One, two. One now? I ran out without paying. You’re right. I need help. How about if I get some of it from you and you just back off?”
“I don’t know how to back off. I’m scared as hell you’re going to fill up your pockets with rocks and walk out into the water one day, like that stupid movie we saw.”
“I wish.”
“See? See?” He got to his feet. “All right, Jude. You want my help? I’m going to give it to you. I’m going to get us started.” He walked toward the sliding pocket doors and went into the house.
She let out a relieved sigh and sank back into the chair. That was how all of their conversations seemed to go lately. Miles storming off or walking away or trying to cure her with a hug. None of it meant much to her.
She stared down at Mia’s stoneless ring, seeing the way the sunlight glanced off the prongs.
Then it hit her.
She knew what Miles was going to do to “help” her. It was something he’d mentioned often. You can’t keep putting it off, he’d say. As if grief were a train that needed to stay on schedule.
With a cry, she flew out of her chair and ran up the stairs.
Mia’s door was open.
She stumbled to a stop, frozen. She hadn’t been able to touch the doorknob since that terrible night. She’d kept the door closed, as if not seeing the pink room would diminish her pain somehow.
But now Miles was in there, probably starting to box up her things.
To give to other kids, Jude. Children in need. Mia would want that.
She shrieked his name and ran for the open door, ready to scream at him, grab at him, claw at him.