Soundtrack
Cigarettes & SaintsâThe Wonder Years
Save MeâUnwritten Law
Wake Me Up When September EndsâGreen Day
15
Jack
Jack woke with a gasp, cold air filling his chest. For a solitary moment, everything felt like it had been some horrendous nightmare, but that would have been giving Jack Moreno too much grace.
He stared up at the ceiling of his childhood bedroom, glow in the dark stars faded, some hanging at a jaunty angle where the tacky putty began to give way. He felt a surge of panic ripple through him, chest seizing up, skin prickling, breath coming in and out too fast to catch. An outsider would think this was happening because Jack's mother died less than twelve hours ago. Only Jack would know that it was because it was his fault. He grabbed the empty glass on his bedside table and threw it at the wall opposite him.
It was a matter of seconds before his door opened, Mia standing in the frame. Yet again, clocks stopped. The room became a vacuum, air completely ripped out. She was holding a clean spatula in one hand, the door knob clutched in the other. She walked in, closing the door behind her.
"The glassâ" Jack said, nodding lamely at the floor.
Mia looked down at her feet, and Jack saw that she had put on a pair of his sneakers before coming in. He never once doubted her intelligence.
"I was so focused on slipping into them that I forgot to set this down." She lifted the spatula, lips quirked up in the smallest grin.
Jack sat up in bed as Mia sat on the edge of it. She reached out to touch him, and she almost seemed relieved when he didn't pull away from her.
"What time is it?" he asked.
"Almost nine. Your dad is still sleeping."
Jack nodded, then looked back towards the spatula in Mia's free hand.
"Logan and I were making breakfast."
"Logan?"
Mia's face flashed a momentary sign of concern. "He drove us here last night. Do you remember?"
Jack nodded. "I do. I didn't know he stayed."
"Of course he stayed."
Those feelings of inadequacy, of being undeserving of anything good whatsoever, were brimming at the base of Jack's throat. Mia squeezed his arm, forcing him out of that spiral.
"How can I support you right now? What do you need?"
He swallowed down his grief, nearly choking on it. "I don't know. There's...there's so much I probably need to do. I don't even know where to begin."
Mia smiled at him, and a little of his pain melted away. "Don't worry about that stuff. Logan's mom is taking care of paperwork at the station. My parents have been making some calls and arrangements. Esme and her boyfriend are going to pick up your car and bring it here, along with your stuff from Logan's. Is that okay? You don't need to see or talk to anyone. I can field all of that."
Jack stared at her, eyes threatening to spill over. Was this truly what it felt like for someone to take care of you? For someone to so effortlessly make you feel unburdened? He blinked, once, twice, to combat the tears, and then he weakly smiled.
"Thank you." It was nearly breathless falling from his mouth, but Mia looked as if he had just asked her to run away with him, had asked her to be with him forever.
"People from your dad's church have been bringing over meals and things. I'm going to package them into serving sizes and keep some in the fridge but the majority in the freezer so it will all last. Does your dad have any dietary restrictions?"
Jack shook his head; the calm, the ease, the strength Mia was showcasing was nearly too much for him to process. The voice in Jack's head tried to tell him it was more evident than ever that she didn't need him, only he needed her, but succumbing to that voice would spell disaster, and Jack had had enough disaster for now.
"Do you think I should go see my dad, or should I let him sleep?"
"If I were him, and I'd just lost my partner, I wouldn't want to wake up alone."
Jack nodded. "Parts of last night are fuzzy. He didn't take it well, right?"
"Yes. Logan said you gave him something to help him sleep."
Jack closed his eyes, trying to reconnect the dots from the night before. They flashed open, and they landed on the shattered glass on his floor. "You gave me something. Was itâit wasn'tâ"
Mia began shaking her head the moment he had opened his eyes. "No. It was Logan's."
He took a deep breath, willing the tightness in his chest and the nausea in his gut and the pricking in his eyes to disperse. "Thank you. I'm going to go see dad. I'll bring him into the kitchen when he's ready. Can you make some coffee? He likes it with the caramel sauce he keeps in the fridge."
"Absolutely." Mia put the spatula on his bed, leaned forward, and hugged him. She held him impossibly tight, and Jack breathed her in before his arms came around her too, one arm around her back, the hand of the other tangling into her hair. He knew he was holding on longer than he should have; he knew he would have to face the world without her holding him together every step of the way, but Jack wanted to live in a fantasy for just a little while longer.
***
As Jack stood outside his father's door, his knees trembled. Physically trembled. Jack always thought he was strong; he thought his ability to shove his emotions so far down that no one could ever see them meant that he was managing them well.
Jack didn't know how he would handle his father blaming him for his mother's death.
Inside, the curtains were drawn closed. Jack's father was curled up on one side of the bed, clutching a pillow to his chest. He didn't stir when Jack entered, giving him a few more seconds to compose himself.
Jack moved to the windows and drew the curtains just enough to let a little sliver of sunlight into the room. His father twitched in bed, so Jack sat beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.
"Dad?" He pressed down gently, trying to rouse him.
Slowly, Jack's father began to uncoil his body, stretching out little by little. When he opened his eyes, the redness in them made Jack's stomach turn.
"Jacky boy," his father said, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. Both of them were silent for what felt like an eternity; then, his father broke it. "She's gone."
It wasn't a question, but Jack nodded in response. "Iâ"
His father cut him off, leaning forward and holding him. "She's in a better place."
Jack's brain flashed back to him telling his mother that she would rot in hell, but he knew he couldn't say those words aloud ever again. Not after this. "She can rest now. She won't be in any more pain, dad."
They sat in silence; for the first time, Jack was in his childhood home, and he was neither afraid of upsetting his mother nor having to cover for her. The fact that her death brought this weird sense of relief to him made his stomach turn yet again, and he needed to get out of her bedroom.
"Mia and Logan made breakfast. Why don't you come eat something?"
His father smiled. "Soon. I need to sit here for a little."
Jack stood and walked towards the door. "Okay. If you need anything, just yell."
"I'll be out soon. I promise. Love you, Jacky boy."
Jack swallowed more of that guilt. He took his father's wife from him, not only by helping fuel her addiction, but by being the indirect cause of her death. Jack wondered if there was something he could do to barter a deal with the devil, for he was tired of hurting the people he loved.
"Love you, too, dad."
***
Time moved both incredibly fast and incredibly slow in the days following Jack's mother's accident.
Logan went back home, but Mia stayed, and while Jack took a few days off work to help his dad and settle things that only family members could take care of, she left every morning at eight and came back every day at five-forty-five and made them dinner or told them about her day or helped clean up around the house or do whatever else she could to help and distract them.
When Jack wasn't closing accounts in his mother's name or stopping her mail or flushing bottle after bottle of pills down the toilet, he helped his dad clean out the garage and the pantry and any storage spaces they had in the house. It was cathartic to get rid of things, and while Jack often watched his dad sneak something away of his mother's, putting it in a drawer or an unmarked box so that it wouldn't be thrown out, Jack wanted nothing. He wanted no reminders. He wanted nothing to remember the guilt that he had harbored since he was a child. He didn't know if this meant that he was healing or that he was foolish.
Jack and his father decided against a viewing for his mother. His father was far too fragile, and Jack couldn't put him through two events where he would have to look at his wife in a casket.
The evening before the funeral, Mia came home and reheated one of the many meals friends of Jack's father had dropped off for them. The three of them ate in silence, despite Mia's best efforts to get his father to talk.
"Football season is getting underway soon. Do you have a favorite team, Mr. Moreno?"
Jack's father shook his head. "Not really much of a sports fan."
"You like soccer, dad. Remember when we used to watch the Colombia National Football team? On Saturday mornings?"
His father absently nodded.
Mia cleared her throat as she pushed her chair back and stood. "I hate to steal Jack away, but we've got to go finalize some things for tomorrow. Is there anything we can get for you while we're out?"
He shook his head before standing and heading back to his bedroom. Mia and Jack silently did the dishes, her washing, him drying, and then left the house. When they were in the car, Mia let out an audible breath and turned to Jack.
"I lied. Everything is taken care of for tomorrow, but you need to get out of the house. You've barely left it this past week."
Jack gave her a small appreciative grin. "I go back to work on Monday."
"Well, it's Friday. Where do you want to go? Ice cream? The movies? Miniâ"
"The lake."
"Aye aye, captain."
Jack wanted to laugh; he wanted to let go of the darkness that was smothering him, but that simply seemed impossible. Instead, he reached over and grabbed Mia's thigh, holding it, trying to get her to osmotically feel how little he was worth, how pointless all of her efforts were in saving him from the life he was destined to suffer through.
When Mia pulled up to the parking lot of the lake, the sun was just beginning to set, casting a fierce orange glow over the surface of the water. Mia took his hand and led him to the dock. There was a chill in the air as fall had officially set in, but Mia's hand was warm, and Jack felt her lifeblood swimming in his veins, trying to overtake him.
The wood beneath their feet creaked as it had begun to contract with the chilled temperatures, and as they sat down near the edge, the water gently lapped at the support poles. Mia let go of his hand, laying back on the dock and staring up into the changing sky, dark blues and purples behind them, reds and pinks before them. He mimicked her, realizing it would be easier to say the things he hadn't said aloud if she weren't looking at him; the thought of watching her opinion of him change before his eyes was too much.
"Thank you for everything you've done. Really, everything. You took care of things I wouldn't have even known to take care of. Dad and I could never repay you."
Mia let out a gentle laugh, and it stirred something deep within Jack that he had thought was long gone. "This is what people do for the ones they love. You would do the same for me. I know that, whether you know it or not."
The classic struggle was tugging at him again; Mia contradicted everything he knew and felt about himself from the time he was a child, and accepting the things she said as truth was his Everest.
"I was sitting right here the night it happened," Jack said. He felt Mia stir beside him, and he put out a hand to stop her. "No, stay like this. I like laying like this beside you."
"Okay." She settled back down, and, once there, reached out and took Jack's hand in hers.
"I was here because I had just stormed out of my parents' house. I went there looking for a fight. I went there because I couldn't stop wallowing in my own mistakes, and I knew going there would be a distraction, even if it hurt. Especially if it hurt."
He was squeezing Mia's hand tightly. He had a vision of how this night was going to end, but he couldn't keep this from her anymore; he wasn't deserving of even a speck more of her sympathy.
"I said horrible things to her. Things no son should ever say. And then I left, and I came here, and I ignored dad's calls. The last thing she heard her son say was that she was a sorry excuse of a mother. If I could have just gotten my shit together, I would have never gone over there in the first place, but I've never been able to put other people first, and these are the consequences I've brought on myself."
Mia squeezed his hand back, a battle of will ensuing between them. "Oh, Jack." She turned onto her side, despite his protests. "It's not surprising that you think you had any part in your mother's decisions that night, but the fact is this: your mother chose to drive under the influence. It's okay to feel badly about how you parted with her; it's okay to take the time you need to process that. But you had no part in her death, and I'll remind you of that every day for the rest of your life, if that's what it takes."
He couldn't look at her; he was likely to fall apart right there, to break into tiny pieces, slip right through the cracks in the dock, and sink to the bottom of the lake. He would mix with the dirt and rocks and sediment; he would decompose back into dust, and he would finally be free.
"It'll take time. All of this will take time, but what you must remember is that you are not responsible for the destructive choices someone else makes."
"All I've ever known is being the one to blame."
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched a single tear slip down Mia's face.
"I know, and that is a terrible burden to have grown up with. But, just like you had no control over the decisions your mom made, I have no control over the decisions you make. You can only start healing by making the decision to do so. You are in control. You have to take the first step."
Jack let out an uncomfortable laugh. "Sounds hard. Maybe tomorrow."
"Maybe tomorrow." Mia turned back over onto her back.
She and Jack stayed there until the sun went down and the moon rose, until the stars twinkled overhead. Clouds covered Ursa Major, but they were able to trace the lines of Ursa Minor, imagining the pinpoints of light floating down to them, filling them with the promise of tomorrow.
***
At the last minute, Jack and his father opted for a closed casket funeral. The day was sad and chilly and misty, for not even in death would Jack's mother allow him the bright, warm rays of sunshine.
He and his father held the front of the casket as they processed out of the church. Logan and Adam helped as well, and when they needed an additional hand, Andy was the first to volunteer.
Mia stayed behind with Jack at the cemetery as the dirt was heaped on to his mother's casket; everyone else had left at Jack's insistence. Jack not only needed to bury his mother that day; Jack needed to bury all of the trauma he'd been carrying from the age of seven.
When they arrived home that night, Mia popped into his room to change into pajamas, but Jack had decided it was time he finally went through the mail that had been collecting on their kitchen table. Much of it was junk, but he knew some were bills, and the last thing he or his father needed was to be late on one of them. In the middle of the pile was an envelope addressed from their auto insurance company, and while Jack wanted to ignore it, he knew he couldn't.
Jack opened the envelope, and the letter inside was brief.
Dear Mr. Moreno,
We would like to extend our deepest condolences on the passing of your wife, Carla Moreno. In keeping with company policy, a full investigation was conducted regarding the accident that took place on August 28th.
It was our findings that slippery conditions due to wet leaves on the road surface were the main cause of this accident. This removes all liability from the policy holders, and any expenses resulting in damage from this accident will be handled internally.
Compensation for car loss and damages will be mailed separately.
If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to call.
Sincerely,
Russell Clarke, Senior Insurance Associate
Mia padded into the kitchen, but Jack couldn't take his eyes off the letter. He read it over and over, sure that he was reading it incorrectly. Mia sat across from him, and he slid it to her.
She took a moment reading it, then nodded knowingly.
"Mia, that's not...it wasn't...she wasâ"
Mia folded the letter back up and set it on the pile with the rest of the mail. "It was an accident. The insurance company determined it was an accident."
If Jack were more naive, he could maybe convince himself that it was all one big accident; that his mother's death had absolutely nothing at all to do with him. The roads were wet that night for it had rained while he was in his parents' house. He himself had been extra careful driving up the winding hill to the lake. The more Jack rationalized it out in his head, the more it seemed to make sense; if only Jack could keep it up. If only Jack could truly make himself believe it, for if Jack could accept that his mother's death was not his fault, it would be the first step in resolving all of the trauma built up inside him, the first step in becoming the person he always wanted to be for Mia, for himself, in time.
a/n: AHHH. ONE. MORE. CHAPTER.
I know this is sad, but life is sad sometimes, and my goal is always to write something that feels like it could be real (except that little trilogy I wrote about falling in love with a celebrity ð).
Please vote on this chapter if you liked it, or leave me a comment so we can chat. Thank you so much for your support. It really does mean the world to me â¤ï¸ (and it helps us as writers on this platform a lot!)
The last chapter will be up Friday.
Till then,
L