Concealed Affliction (29 page)

Denny reaches a hand across the counter and gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I get it darlin’. But keep an open mind, things aren’t always what they seem.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Denny shakes his head.

“Not my story to tell, just know that people make sacrifices for those they care about. In the meantime, I’ll field the phone calls.”

I sense that I’m not going to get any more out of Denny, so I leave it where it is and continue with my dinner.

* * *

The sun has set, and even though the darkness is beginning to take over, I have no desire to get to bed anytime soon. Most likely due to sleeping the day away, I figure now would be the time to make right some of my wrongs.

“Any more news from Cabe or Maverick?”

Denny looks at me from his spot on the sofa and shakes his head.

“Nothing. Mav’s fine, still parked at the cabin. Cabe is still trying to track down another location for Shawn. We just sit and wait.”

I hate waiting, I also hate the thought of sitting after laying around all day. I have a mild desire to open up a bottle of wine, but think better of it and continue with my earlier thoughts of righting wrongs.

“Tomorrow is my daughter’s birthday.”

I clear my throat.

“Would’ve been my daughter’s birthday. Was my daughter’s birthday. Fuck, I don’t know how I’m supposed to say that.”

I feel the telltale tingle behind my eyes but blink them back when Denny squeezes my shoulder.

“No right way to say it Elle, but I would stick with is. Just because she’s gone, doesn’t mean you’re supposed to forget the day you brought her into this world.”

I take a deep breath, absorbing Denny’s words.

“Take me there.”

I look up and see the confused expression on his face.

“The cemetery. Nobody will be there at this time of night, and I don’t want to go in the daylight. Tomorrow I risk running into people. I can go by myself if you don’t feel comfortable taking me.”

Denny grabs my small hand with his much larger one and pulls me off the couch.

“I’ll take you.”

I nod my head in silent thanks and head into the bedroom to change into warmer clothes before we head out.

* * *

Denny and I are silent in his Suburban, other than me giving him directions to the cemetery on the outskirts of town. I used to spend a lot of time there, laying in the grass, telling them how much I missed them. It was soothing to me. And after months upon months of going home to an empty house, it seemed like the cemetery was the only place I felt at peace. Closer to them.

I only visited once after my attack to say I was so fucking sorry for what happened to them. I know if my parents were still around, they would say it wasn’t my fault. Unfortunately, that doesn’t change the fact it still feels that way.

I still talk to them and I know I don’t need to be at the cemetery for them to hear me. There’s just something deeper about actually being there, seeing those names on the tombstone that makes me feel a little closer to them.

When Cory was killed, I had him buried with my family. They owned six plots and there was never a second thought as to where Cory should go. Never a second thought as to where he would want to be.

Cory’s dad never put up a fuss about it, however he suffered from Alzheimer’s and sadly would forget his son was gone. In a way I hope it makes it easier on him, waking up and still thinking his son is still alive. Cory’s mom passed away from cancer a few years before I had met him, and he too was an only child which gave me free reign as to where he would be put to rest.

We pull up to Mapleview Cemetery. Denny gives me a questioning look since the gates are now closed and locked. I point in a direction around the laneway and off to the side where he can park the vehicle.

I don’t speak when I open my door and neither does he. I follow the path I had used before when I used to come and lay here at night. It leads around the east side of the cemetery where there’s just a short concrete wall dividing the path from the cemetery. Not too high, and short enough that Norma could jump over, joining me to lay on the grass during those nights I couldn’t sleep.

I move on autopilot in the dark, my only light coming from the moon and the lamp posts standing tall at the entrance. Denny follows at a discreet distance behind me as I make my way through the damp grass toward my family’s tombstone.

I enter the sixth row, looking down at my feet.  I won’t be able to stop the silent tears that will soon streak down my face. The same thing always happens upon my arrival at the marble stone. I don’t look up when I reach it, and settle down on the damp grass beneath me.

I don’t pay any mind to the wetness seeping into the knees of my tights and I don’t stop my hands from automatically moving up, feeling the names of those I loved etched into the cold stone in front of me.

I let the wetness run down my cheeks, keeping my eyes firmly closed. I lean my head forward to rest it on the hard surface. My shoulders begin to shake, but no noise comes from my mouth. My fingers blindly trace the letters that my mind will never forget.

I feel the sharp edge of the letter ‘L’. I feel the imperfection of the stone on the letter ‘Y’. My trembling fingers follow the deep groove of the numbers. Two sets inform you of a longer span of life, and the last betraying the miniscule amount of time here on earth. A time too short for someone so small to enjoy. A life taken far too early.

A life that never got to her fourth birthday.

A life that never got to her first kiss.

A life that never got to be asked to the prom, or taken on her first date.

A life taken so fast that at this moment the only thing I pray for is that she fell asleep in the car, like she normally did when we traveled. I tell myself she was in fact asleep when it happened. Nobody had to hear her in pain; she didn’t have to experience any type of fear before she was taken from me.

I tell myself she went peacefully, in her sleep. Knowing nothing at the time other than the unicorns and rainbows she was most likely dreaming of. I tell myself she wasn’t scared and that my mom was in the back seat with her when they went to heaven. I tell myself they were holding hands, and Lilly’s little head was resting on my mom while she slept on the way to the hotel.

I tell myself all of these things as I let myself break down on the cold hard ground. I feel the small breeze cutting through the multitude of stones and I smell the dew in the air. I take it all in and breathe it all out. All the while remaining fused to the stone in front of me, wishing to all that is holy I could have had more time with them.

Gary B. O’Connor

1952-2012

Susan E. O’Connor

1956-2012

Only ever a thought away. I will love and remember you

each and every day.

I do the same thing I always do when I come here, which is rest my finger on that mocking dash between the dates, one little notch that is supposed to represent everything in between the two sets of years. Milestones, birthdays and anniversaries. First kisses, first loves and a first home. I try to focus on the dash and what they accomplished between those years, as opposed to dwelling on the last set of numbers. I trace my fingers down the new inscription I had done after Cory was killed, and I finally let the ugly sobs free.

Lilly Jayne O’Connor

2009-2012

Remembering you is easy, I do it every day,

Missing you is a heartache, which never goes away.

Know that this is not goodbye, just time to rest your head.

The moon will be your pillow, the stars above your bed.

If I could have a wish come true,

I would wish my sweet Lilly, that I still had you.

May you be happy with your dad baby girl, never sad or blue.

Until the day I get to heaven, and make my own debut.

Love, Momma.

I don’t bother to try stopping the sobs that wrack my body; I know it would be an impossible feat. After spending so long trying to be the strong one, bottling up all of my emotions and running my life on auto pilot, it has finally reached its breaking point.

I have reached my breaking point.

I don’t bother to turn around and guess whose arms have come around me. For once instead of fighting and pushing people away, I fold myself into the warm embrace and let it all go. The anger, the tears and the deeply rooted loneliness I refuse to give into.

I don’t know how long Denny holds me in his lap on the cold ground, but eventually he breaks the silence when my sobs and ugly crying subside to small whimpers. I feel the tightening of his arms before he speaks.

“What do you want, Foley?”

I’m confused and disoriented. I pull my head out from under Denny’s chin and notice the man standing about fifteen feet away. Denny obviously feels no threat from this man, but regardless I crawl out of his lap and stand on my own two feet. Denny doesn’t let me get far and stands partially in front of me, blocking my clear path to the strange man.

“Mr. Black. Perhaps we don’t need to worry about her and Callaghan any longer, seeing how close you and Ms. O’Connor have become.”

I jolt at the use of my real name and get a better look at the man in front of me. He takes a few more steps forward and recognition hits. This is the guy who was with Becker, the one who waited outside of my private training room back in Jacksonville.

“I’ll ask you again, what the fuck do you want Foley?”

The man known as Foley shoves his hands in his pockets, shaking his head with a mild smirk on his older wrinkly face.

“It’s not what I want, Mr. Black. It’s what works best for all parties involved.  I couldn’t very well take Mr. Callaghan’s word for it now could I? Certainly not without an insurance policy of my own.”

I grab onto Denny’s arm.

“What the hell is he talking about?”

I look between the two men, watching the standoff unfold in front of me, more confused than ever as to why William Becker’s right hand man from Chicago is standing in the middle of a cemetery in Ontario.

Denny doesn’t answer me, but holds onto my arm and begins to lead us back the way we came as he speaks over his shoulder.

“Not up for yours or Becker’s games. Get the fuck back to Chicago. If you don’t, we both know what’ll happen.”

Denny and I climb over the concrete wall and almost make it to the truck before I see the flashing lights coming in the distance.

“As I said, Mr. Black. Insurance.”

I spin out of Denny’s hold to face the prick coming up behind me. His pace is confident and the smug look on his face conveys his message.

“What do you want with me? I have no hold over Ryder! Leave me the fuck alone!”

Foley shows no emotion, no remorse at my outburst. Simply cocks his head to the side wondering what my game is.

“No hard feelings, Ms. O’Connor. Mr. Becker trusted you would stay out of Ryder Callaghan’s reach. This is just a precaution to ensure he stays out of yours.”