Once Again

Chapter 22: January 2003

I'd just graduated school a few weeks before I got the worst call of my life.
"Sarah, Daddy is dead." My older sister cries early in the morning.
"What—? No, I just spoke to him last night." I shake my head in disbelief.
"He passed away at some point in the night. Mom found him in the bathroom—" A sob cuts her off.
"No, no. It's a mistake..." I can't grasp the news. It's not processing. A heart attack. I hear her say in between sobs. I just spoke to him though. He was calling to check on me. He'd been doing that more since I moved in with Jacob. He didn't like Jacob and could never give me a clear reason why other than "there's something shifty about him". So my overprotective dad started calling and visiting more instead.
"I have to go..." I say numbly dropping the phone.
I stand up, trying to process what she said. I take a few steps into our kitchen before my legs give out and I collapse to the floor sobbing. When I'm able to gain some sense of composure I call the gallery Jacob is at. He leaves as soon as I tell him what's happened and scoops me up into his arms when he finds me on the floor. He talks to me through breathing as I have my first panic attack.
We went over to my parent's house and stayed with my mom the following week. She tries to be brave and strong and does a good job of it, but I know her heart is broken and I worry she'll relapse. She's been sober for a year now but this will certainly put that to the test.
Jacob makes us meals we don't eat and does the laundry. Mom's friends and family help her arrange the funeral. My sister flies in from Nevada. Jacob starts fading into the background the more people come in. He becomes sullen and quiet, something I don't have tolerance for at the time. I tell him to go back to work because he keeps making excuses to go back to our loft, saying stuff about our bills when I know we're fine financially. He just wants to get away.
He shows up for the funeral but doesn't stay. I'm upset, but I just don't have the time or energy to argue with him about it. My friends show up and stay the whole day. They form a circle around me holding me as I cry away from the crowds that have shown up for my father.
My father was a well-loved man. He was an extrovert, unlike my mother and I. There wasn't a person he couldn't chat up or befriend similar to a young Rhys. We see so many people who shake our hands solemnly and dole out condolences. I can't believe he's gone. He was only 51.
I don't return back to my place with Jacob for another week, opting to stay with my mom until an aunt and uncle tell me to go home, they'll be staying with her for a few more weeks. My sister also stays for another month. Her fiancé is supportive and check's on her daily. In stark contrast to what I'm experiencing with Jacob who seems to be pulling a disappearing act.
I come home to a messy apartment. There are trash bags overflowing in the kitchen and when I pick one up I hear a bunch of wine and beer bottles clinking around. Seems Jacob had a party while I was gone. I see red. He was partying while I was grieving my father and attending his funeral without him.
I found a condom in our bathroom trash can. I'm seething and shaking by the time he comes home from work.
"What the fuck is this?" I demand holding the trash can up to him.
His eyebrows raise. He was obviously not expecting me home yet. "Baby, that's not mine. I had some people over the other night and Seth—I think that's Seth's."
It's stupid and he's obviously lying, but at the time I wanted to believe him. I willfully choose to believe him because I wasn't ready to grieve something else. I wasn't ready to lose someone else.
"You let Seth fuck someone in the our bed?" I ask incredulously.
Seth is a close friend of Jacob's and that should have been a red flag in itself. Seth was a major fuckboy and cheated on his adoring girlfriend all the time.
"Ok, ok..." He holds up his hands in surrender "I drank too much. I passed out while people were still here and he must have done it while I was passed out on the couch."
"That's disgusting." I make a face. "He's never coming over here again, got it?"
"Yes, baby, I got it." He holds his arms out to me, moving tentatively towards me.
My shoulders sag in exhaustion and sadness. He engulfs me in his arms and I inhale his patchouli scent.
"I'm so sorry. I don't know how to be here for you right now." He whispers into my hair.
"You just have to show up, Jacob. You just had to be there." I cry. I'm so disappointed in him. "You don't have to perform for anyone, tell stories, you just have to...be human. I just need you to hold me and listen, that's all."
I shouldn't have had to tell him how to support me. My friends had never lost a parent and they all seemed to know how to support me. I ignored the red flags again.