Page 48

Journal,what’s happening? Why is me mentioning Mara a bad thing? Lately this is what we do. Tired remarks and so many words unsaid. We argue, but most of all, we ignore. We never sit and talk about anything. Even when Mara died, there was no how are you? There were no talks of, I know this hurts but we’re gonna make it through this. There was only avoiding and shutting down and it’s led here. I feel like we’re no longer a couple making decisions together but two people living separate lives, linked by the children we created.
As my head hits the pillow every night and tears soak it, I dread doing this again tomorrow. When will it stop? When will we be able to talk? Or will it always be like this? We used to be one person, Journal. One heart and one soul fighting together. Now we’re struggling to find our own way, lost in clouds of smoke with no visibility.
Sixteen
Mama Bear
(Jealousy is a green-eyed monster, but never underestimate a mama bear and her hangy-down tits.)
I wanted so badlyto walk into our room the other night and curl up next to Noah. But I didn’t. I wanted to tell him I’m sorry, for what I don’t know, and beg him to make everything better. But I didn’t because I can tell myself every day it’s going to be different, and it’s not. So much goes unsaid, and our pride is in the way.
Monday sucks. Noah goes back to work, and it’s the morning grind of getting the kids out of bed, ready for school and keep them from killing each other while texting my sister about her wedding. I’m not looking forward to going back to Austin, let alone being around family. When Noah and I left Austin, part of me never wanted to go back. Ever. But Mara’s buried there so I knew I couldn’t stay away forever.
“Give that back to me!” I hear Oliver growl from the back seat.
I don’t know what Oliver’s problem is lately, but he’s being really mean to Hazel this morning. I’ve taken away his video games, his toys, basically everything but letting him sleep in a bed, yet he’s still being a complete shit. He was never this way with Mara, and they were only thirteen months apart. They were practically twins.
We’re in the car with Sevi crying over being stuck in the car seat, and Fin kicking the seat, and then Oliver punches Hazel on her arm. “Stop stealing my stuff!” He screams in her face when she takes the sword to his pirate Halloween costume he’s wearing. “I hate you!”
Little boys are such pricks sometimes.
“Oliver Nathan Beckett!” I snap, pulling the car into a parking spot and nailing the curb in the process. The warning signs in the car go off that I now have low tire pressure. Awesome. “Stop hitting her. Say you’re sorry.”
“No!” he yells back at me and then slams the door in my face. I’d totally chase after him and beat his ass if it wasn’t in the middle of a parking lot. Pick your battles, right? Ha. I’m beating him tonight.
“He’s mean to me,” Hazel cries, staring at her older brother running from the car and into the school. “Why does he hate me?”
I grab her hand and kiss it. “I know, baby. He’s just struggling.” I know this has to do with Mara. Ever since the one-year mark of her death, he’s changed. His outbursts are more frequent. “How about I talk to him?”
I know what you’re thinking here, or at least, what I thought when Oliver’s behavior began to change. He needs to see a counselor. Well, we tried and much like his dad, Oliver refused to talk to them. He sat through every weekly session for six months giving them one-word answers. Finally, I had to pull him out because he only defied us more for making him go. Now we’re trying the “heal at your own speed” approach and clearly, it isn’t working either. I’m at a loss as to what to do next with him.
She wipes her tears away and looks at the red mark on her arm where he punched her moments ago. “Tell him Mara said to be nice.”
I swear on all things holy, my heart drops to my knees. “What?”
Hazel’s beautiful blue eyes drift to mine. “She visits me in my dreams. Mara says Oliver misses her and he’s sad.” Her eyes drop to the mark, then the school. “I miss her too.”
My heart hurts at the mention of her. Mara was so gentle with her siblings. Don’t get me wrong, she had fire inside her and could turn on anyone in a matter of seconds, but she loved just as hard. She’d fight to protect and fight to push buttons too. Just like Oliver. And I know Oliver’s sad. His way of dealing with his sadness is anger. Noah shuts down, I cry, and Oliver gets mad. I don’t know how Hazel, Sevi, and Fin will deal with it because they’re so young they won’t understand.
I grab Hazel’s hand a little tighter. “Mama’s gonna talk to him tonight, okay?”
Pushing herBravewig out of her face, she nods and sweeps away her tears. After kissing me goodbye, she too gets out of the car and heads toward her classroom, her wild red wig blowing in the wind.
With just me, Sevi, and Fin in the car, I stare back at them in the rearview mirror. Sevi’s watching the other kids walking around, barking at everyone who walks by him. He’s probably trying to figure out why they’re walking and not crawling around on all fours. And Fin, she’s staring at Sevi, her sippy cup in one hand and Sevi’s leash in the other like she wants to strangle him for barking. By the way, she’s a chicken for Halloween, and I don’t think she’s impressed with her costume one bit. She keeps looking at it, looking at me, and then glaring. I can almost hear her thoughts of “this is why I’ll be in therapy later in life.”
My car continues to beep at me with the low tire pressure warning. Great. Time to visit Noah.
* * *
It’s not oftenme and the kids visit Noah at work, but I thought, hey, why not? It’s Halloween, my tire is flat, and they can see their dad. Win-win, right?
We’ll see. I’m not sure how he’s going to feel about me taking Sevi and Fin in there.
Thinking coffee might win him over, I stop by Starbucks and then head over to the dealership.
“Hey, Kelly.” Nick notices me the moment I walk into the shop. I am carrying a thirty-four-pound puppy and a twenty-pound bird on my hip. It’s no wonder my arms look amazing these days.
The closer I get to Nick, that’s when I notice his eye. It’s black, like he got in a fight, or Noah hit him. Wouldn’t surprise me either. The Beckett brothers have always been quick to throw a punch. Or two.