Stepping out of the car, the air was heavy. Rain clouds hung over the air, circling and pondering if to let the rain fall at all. It’s seemed more likely then not. The trees seemed danced with the summer breeze, effortlessly letting a few leaves fall but not enough to cover the over growing grassy floor.
The soft medleys of the birds could be heard as they moved between the trees, ruffling their feathers when they landed in an attempt to straighter them.
Joey tried to smile as she reached for her husband’s hand, as soon as he was close enough, with Amy in his arms they moved towards the gate together.
“Do you think this is a good idea?”
Joey tugged on his hand, searching his eyes, as they stop at the gate.
“Don’t you?”
“I don’t know….. I’m afraid, it makes everything all the more real.”
“It’s okay to be afraid. I’m terrified myself.”
“You are?”
He nodded, looking over the cemetery that stood silently in front of them; the many head stones covering the small space and long grass that wasn’t being very well maintained, it just didn’t seem right to him.
“Yes but if you don’t want to do this, I can just take Amy and see Jack’s grave and then we can leave.”
She took a deep breath, scanning her eyes over her surrounding too.
“Okay.”
“I just don’t think I can do it without you.”
“Okay.”
“I won’t be a minute.”
He went to let go of her hand, but she wouldn’t let him.
“Joey?”
“I meant okay, we can do this. I told you I don’t want to be afraid of this anymore and I meant it.”
Her half smiled appeared then tugging him through the gate. Pacey tried to remember the last time he seen it. It was at least six months ago he assumed, but he was glad it was back.
Back then, their problems didn’t seem so big nor were they frightening as they were now. When summer was just about being carefree and winter meant snuggling up on the couch watching the crackling of the fire. When nothing so bad was hanging over their, like the circling grey clouds looming above them now, that caused them to fall apart, stop them from talking, wanting to comfort each other, just needing the others presence beside them.
But if he thought about it long enough, he could still remember that moment, as clear as if it happened yesterday.
Work had been horrendous that day, understaffed and over packed all day. He had been tired from being on his feet all day and all he wanted to do was get home and relax.
Fate seemed to have been working against him that day, because it had taken him nearly an hour to get home, due to some pile up on main street, instead of the usually fifteen. It had been raining too, big sheets of the stuff; it was never a good sign when it was raining.
He had jogged up the stairs of their apartment; flowers tucked under one arm and the back of his coat drawn over his head, giving little to no protection to the rain. Smiling at the door man, he raced up the further two floors, knowing the elevator was out of order, yet another thing he could add to the list of things not going right that day.
He had been out of breath when he had reached the desired floor, leaning against the railing to the stairs he breathed deeply, sweat pouring out of him, he shook the rain off his winter coat, trying to get his breath back. Only to trip him self up on the way to their door, and he had laughed in disbelief watching briefcase fall open as well, spilling its contents onto the floor boards in front of me.
Placing the contents back in the briefcase, going to lock it became a bit more difficult, finding the latch on the ground beside.
“That’s just great, just fucking prefect.”
He had mutter to himself, standing and moving over to the door to their apartment, he had turned the handle and stepped inside.
The warmth of the apartment had hit his freezing skin and the sweet aromas traveled through the air from the kitchen that had been off to the left had been intoxicating to his nostrils, was another thing he hadn’t let himself forget.
He had shrugged out of winter coat then hanging it up for the fear of been told off to many times not to, dropping the now broken case to the floor he had smiled to himself, thinking being home could have only made his horrible finish out all right.
He had known then how much worse it was going to get, he doubted he would have come home that night; scratch that, he wouldn’t have left the apartment that morning.
Nearing the kitchen he hadn’t let the downs of that day control him yet. Still holding the flowers, he had caught sight of her; placing the flowers down on the counter beside him, he had smiled drinking her in.
She had been three days out of hospital and she still had been glowing as she had twirled around the room, preparing their dinner, a happy grin had been plastered on her face that hadn’t left since her release.
“How was your day?”
She hadn’t turn to face him when she had broken the silence; he had chuckled then at her ability to sense his presence in a room.
“How did you know I was here?”
He had wanted to avoid the discussion of that day, because it would have brought his sudden good mood down, and he hadn’t wanted anything to do that at that moment.
“That wasn’t you cursing out in the hallway then?”
She had laughed then, her half smile had been thrown over her left shoulder at him then, teasing him. Had he known that was the last time he would see it for months he would have held onto that moment for longer. But he had just shrugged, and dismissed her comment.
“You should know better Pace.”
He had kept the distance between them, but had he known that was the last happy moment for months he would have held her more closely. He would have wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the daylights out of her, had he known.
“So, how was your day?”
He had spotted the baby monitor then on the ledger above her head, the red dot the present reminder that had been switched on.
“Your son is a troublemaker; you can tell who he’s going to be taking after.”
“Our son, he’s our son Jo, don’t you go put all the blame on me.”
She turned on him then, a teasing glare having graced her features, but he could still tell she had been glowing with happiness, underneath.
“You wouldn’t be saying that, if he threw up my breast milk on you, now would you.”
“Yes, yes I would.”
He had cocked his head to the side again, having her huff and go back to her dinner preparations then.
“Where is the little rascal anyway?”
“Sleeping but you might as well go wake him up, it’s about time for his next feeding, plus I want to see you covered in breast milk.”
“Never happen.”
“We’ll just have to wait a see.”
She had called after him then, the happiness still evident in her voice.
He had chuckled to himself, as he turned the handle to the nursery. He had taken pride in creating that nursery for his son. The blue’s in the walls, mirroring the ocean currents out to sea, the hand made rocking chair with their craved initials in the wood, it sat under the window that you could see the ocean out of it on a clear day. A blanket laid over an arm, and a discarded storybook in the centre; he had smiled his gaze drifting over the cot next to it, to the shelves on the other wall. The baby monitor had sat there but finding it missing he had frowned, his gaze falling to the floor then he found the small object in broken pieces.
“Joey.”
He had yelled back to her in the kitchen, panic rising in him.
“Pacey?”
“Come here now?”
He had moved slowly towards the cot then, fearing the worse, hoping for nothing to be wrong.
“I’m busy!”
“Joey!”
He had yelled once more and he hadn’t cared anymore if he had been overreacting to a nothing. Still wishing it had been a nothing, he had looked over the edge of the cot; it hadn’t seemed out of the ordinary. The baby had been lying on his stomach the blanket pulled up around him, keeping him warm.
“What’s wrong?”
He hadn’t turned towards her then, for fear of her laughing at him, for being an overreacting parent. Leaning down, he had rested two fingers on his sons’ neck.
“When’s the last time you checked on him?”
“Couple of hours why? What’s this all about?”
He hadn’t answered her then, having not really the strength to tell her why their son was a ghostly white colour with no pulse.
Staring at the headstone now, it did make everything all the more real.
Amy had sat herself down in front of the stone, running her fingers over the carvings.
Here lies
Benjamin William Witter
Aged 3 days
Beloved son of Pacey and Joey
Joey smiled through tears, still holding tight to her husband hand, she read the inscription they had left for him.
“Time is too slow for those who wait,
Too swift for those who fear,
Too long for those who grieve,
Too short for those who rejoice,
But for those who love, time is eternity.”
