Existing (30 page)

I bend down and lay my head against her chest that rises and falls gently
, and suddenly feel warmth spread through my body. When I glance down, I realize I’m glowing, but more importantly and more astonishingly, I can
feel
.

I look up to the ceiling and close my eyes.  “Thank you,” I whisper.

I don’t know how long I’ll be able feel and I don’t care. I scoop Roisin into my arms and sprint up the stairs with her. Roisin is as light as a feather. She groans as my movement causes her body to move against me.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

“Mom?” she says without opening her eyes.

“Yes, sweetheart
. It will all be alright. I promise.”

“Help me,” she breathes.

I don’t have a heart but if I did, it would be shattered into a thousand tiny pieces by now. And if I could cry, we’d be drowning in my tears.

I lower her down onto her bed, undress her as best I can and pull her covers up. The moment I step back
, knowing I’ve done all that I can, I go numb again.

I sigh with relief and drop onto my knees at the side of her bed. I stay like that for the whole night and watch the bruises appear and deepen as the hours tick by.

I open my eyes and feel instantly sick as the pain resonates throughout my body. I blink, feeling confused when I realize I’m in bed. I have no idea how I managed to drag myself up the stairs last night and have no recollection of it either. I lie on my back and breathe slowly and carefully in and out. As my lungs inhale and exhale, my ribs ache and throb. I’m assuming it wasn’t my Father or Ava that found me, because surely they would have wanted to know what had happened to cause me to be in this state. That only left Hallie, but why would she beat me, put me to bed, and cover me in blankets?

I lift my arms and apart
from a few bruises they feel reasonably okay. I wiggle my fingers, just to check. I carefully touch my face and feel something crusty. I pick it and see the dried blood stuck under my nails. I wrinkle my face and don’t need a mirror to know that it’s black and blue. Before I blacked out, I remember Hallie’s fist raining down on my face and her shoe ramming into my stomach. I roll over and cry out as a pain shoots across my rib cage. I slowly push my covers off and stare down at my half-naked body in disgust. It’s like a black and purple marble floor with the occasional slashes of untouched, pale skin breaking up the color. I stare at my silky panties and feel a lingering pain at the back of my leg. When I look at the back of my thigh, I see an angry red circle there. I can’t even remember when she did that, and by the looks of it, I probably don’t want to.

I push myself up
with my sore arms to a sitting position and cry out. I’m a mess. I’m not going to be able to explain these bruises away, and for the first time, I don’t intend to. This can’t go on. I’m not her punching bag and, even if I knew why she hated me so much, I’m not sure I could lie for her this time. She’s gone too far.

I remember my Dad saying that
he was going to play golf today. I slide out of bed, gritting my teeth as my skin stretches over my aching body, and sit on the floor. I shuffle toward the mirror to see the full extent of the damage and feel the burn of vomit at the back of my throat. I look like a mess. A complete mess.

I
remember my Mother’s diary and carefully reach into my shoe-box that I’ve hidden at the back of my closet. I take a deep, tear-filled breath and open it. The first thing I see is the red book. I pull it out and notice the little black and white picture that’s been hiding underneath it. I put the book on the floor next to me and pull out the picture. Tears immediately wobble in my eyes and then one drops heavily down my cheek and lands on the picture. Huge, body shaking sobs take over me as I glance at the tiny white blob in the middle. I’ve tried not to look at this picture, not after what happened, but now that it’s in my hands I can’t stop myself from thinking about what might have been. I trace my finger over my printed name in the top corner and think about the baby that I lost. I think about how I would have been eight months pregnant now if I hadn’t have fallen down the stairs last September. I know being sixteen and pregnant isn’t what I really wanted, but I hate that I had that choice taken away from me.  And I hate even more that Hallie was the one to find me and now has something to hold over me.

I pick up the tiny white teddy bear and touch it against my cheek, feeling the softness of it against my skin. I had bought it on the way back from having my scan and
, even though I wasn’t entirely sure about the idea of being pregnant, I couldn’t help myself when I saw it.

More tears roll down my cheeks and I can’t bring myself to look in the mirror to see the shame and regret that must be written all over my face.

After what feels like forever, I put the ultrasound picture and the teddy bear back into the box and put the lid over the top of it. I wipe my face with my shaking hands and carefully pick my Mother’s diary up.

I open the first page and brush my hands over her written words. I haven’t even read the first word when tears fill my eyes
again, blocking my vision completely. I hold the book tightly to my chest and cry for the both of us.

When I swoop into the room I notice Roisin holding my diary in her hands. She’s already crying but when I peek over her shoulder I realize that she’s only on the first page, so I sit down beside her and wait for her to turnover.

April 10
th
1994

Ro
isin smiled at me for the first time today and it melted my heart. I can’t believe how quickly she’s growing and how often she changes. I’m sure that she looks different each morning that I go into her bedroom to get her out of her crib. I love her more than I ever thought it was possible for a human being to love another. I’m so full of love that I feel like I’m fit to burst.

Lance has been working late again all week. I’m worried that there’s something wrong. He’s distant. Sometimes I catch him staring into space as if he’s not listened to a word I’ve said. I’m worried because we haven’t made love in months and I hope that he’s not turned off by my lumpy belly and stretch marks. Maybe I should do more exercise? Maybe the three mile walk I do with the stroller everyday isn’t enough….

I spoke to my Mother today, who has told me that I’m being silly about the Lance thing and that he’s my Husband. He was there and saw what I went through. According to my Mother, the fact that I’ve given birth to his child cements his love permanently for me in his heart. I don’t think she realizes this is the twenty-first century.

April 15
th
1994

I’ve been shopping today
and got lots of new outfits for Roisin; now we’re ready for the summer. I couldn’t stop picking up those pretty summer dresses and cute little sandals. I can’t wait for the sun to start shining properly again so I can dress her up and show her off to the world. I’ve told her every single day since she was born that I love her, but I’m starting to worry that just saying it won’t be enough. The word love doesn’t do justice to the way I feel about her.

Lance is getting worse. He’s coming home even later than before and showering straight away and sometimes sleeps in the spare bedroom. By the time I get up in the morning, he’s already left the house. I don’t know what to do. I feel like a stranger in my own marriage. When he does sleep next to me, he tosses and turns all night long and keeps me awake. I wish he’d tell me what’s on his mind. If it’s work, then he can share those things with me. I don’t want him worrying all on his own.

May 30
th
1994

Roisin had her vaccinations
today and she screamed the whole time. I’m laughing because I know there’s certainly nothing wrong with her lungs. She looks a lot like me these days. She has the same deep brown, classic Italian eyes like me, but she has Lance’s lips and jaw. I have a feeling we’re not going to be going out for the next few days because the nurse said that Roisin might have a fever in reaction to the vaccines. I don’t want her to hurt at all. Not even a little bit.

My friend Sharon said she saw Lance in a bar with another woman last week. I’m not sure what to make of this. The night she saw them, he didn’t get in from work until nearly midnight. When I asked him where he’d been, he said he’d was working on an important case. Can you work on a case with a colleague in a bar? Isn’t that sort of information confidential?

12
th
June 1994

I haven’t been a very good Mommy to Roisin over the last few days. I promise to be better soon.

27
th
June 1994

I’m utterly convinced Lance is having an affair. The late nights, the smell of smoke on his work shirts, the evasiveness when I ask him about his cases, the lack of affection he shows to me. We still haven’t made love. It’s been nearly nine months
, as he refused to make love to me when I was pregnant for fear of hurting our baby. I told him this was silly but he insisted. Has he forgotten how to make love in general or just to me?

I have an appointment with the doctor tomorrow. I’m waking up and feeling sad
, and I know I shouldn’t when I have a beautiful daughter to wake up to. There’s a hole in my heart where my husband’s love should be.

4
th
July 1994

I’m planning on taking
Roisin to the 4
th
of July parade tonight - alone. Lance hasn’t been home before eight for about two months now. He hasn’t kissed her goodnight, or put her to bed since she was a few weeks old. I never thought it would be like this. I thought having a baby would be the start of a new chapter for us. I’ve got an American flag dress for Roisin to wear with the stars and stripes. She’ll look adorable.

The doctor prescribed antidepressants. He said waking up and feeling sad was not natural and that the pills would help to re-balance the chemicals in my brain. I have to say, I don’t think they’re working and I feel so guilty when I look at my daughter’s beautiful face, that I’m filled with sadness rather than joy.

It’s not Roisin. It’s not being a Mommy that’s making me feel this way.

7
th
July 1994

Lance found my pills today and we had a huge fight
about keeping secrets. I could have stabbed him. How dare he lecture me? I still couldn’t bring myself to say anything about what I think I know. I made up a story about postpartum depression.

I feel bad for saying this
, as it makes me feel like I’m blaming Roisin for my depression. It’s not Roisin. It’s him and what he’s doing to my heart. He’s breaking me into two.

11
th
July 1994

Sharon followed him. He left work at six, walked to the end of the street and kissed a woman on the lips before going into an Italian restaurant. Why is he doing this to me? I thought he loved me…

20
th
July 1994

I asked Lance why he was still working late and what he did when he finished work. He laughed at me, kissed me on the head
, and said he was busy working and making sure we had enough money to pay the bills. I didn’t think we had any issues about paying the bills. I don’t know why I didn’t tell him what Sharon had seen. The words got stuck in my throat. I guess a psychiatrist would say that I was afraid of the answer and maybe they’d be right. I can’t imagine a life without Lance. We were so in love and always had been. People used to call us the perfect couple. Why does Lance no longer think that’s true?

30
th
July 1994

Roisin sat up
on her own for the very first time today. Her little head wobbled precariously on the top of her neck, but she did it. I’m so proud of her and how she’s growing up and learning all these new things.

Lance is being cranky but he’s coming home earlier. He was in before 6:30 every day last week. I wonder why that is. I doubt it’s anything to do with wanting to see us more. 

2
nd
August 1994

I followed him.
I took Roisin out in her stroller and sat on a bench for two hours. She must have been so bored, but I needed to see for myself.

Lance walked out of the building, rounded the corner, and walked into a café. He came out thirty minutes later holding the hand of a woman that I’d seen walk out of his building not five minutes before him. Everything fits now. He was having an affair with a woman at work. How could he do that to me? How could he do that to us?