I spent about two hours talking to my father about Tyler, ranting about how much of a jerk he was to everyone and how I was sure that Mom wouldn't be able to hold herself together today.
My prediction was pretty accurate.
I let myself into my house just after darkness had fallen. The night sky still carried traces of peach and pink that had been left behind by the gruelling day that I experienced. I was mentally drained and exhausted from my two encounters with Tyler and was desperately seeking comfort food and a good Disney movie.
A gut-wrenching feeling choked me when my ears grew accustomed to the distant wailing. I could hear her. I slotted my key into the lock and twisted the door open, exhaling sharply at the ominous feeling that settled inside me. Fear yawned open inside my stomach like a black hole and it took everything within me not to double over and cry because she had done it again.
The sharp stench of alcohol stang my nostrils making me wrinkle my nose with displeasure and I pursed my full lips into a straight line.
"Mom?" My voice broke as another wail rang through the house.
She looked immaculate this morning. She was doing so well. What went wrong?
I stepped into the hallway and kicked off my chucks, trying to buy myself a minute of sanity before I entered the living room. I don't know why I felt disappointed, I mean it's just the way she deals with it every year but I just couldn't help but feel let down. It was like she was escaping the reality of the tragedy, leaving me to deal with it all alone.
A choking sob resonated through the house before it dissolved into a series of helpless whimpers.
"Jeremy, why d-did you leave me?"
It came out in big slur as if the words were stumbling over each other trying to get out in one big rush. I squinted and trudged into the living room. Groping the wall for the light switch, I acknowledged the two empty wine bottles strewn at the foot of the couch. All the lights were switched off but I could still make out the slumped figure shaking on the carpet.
"Jem, I miss you so m-much it's k-killing me! It's b-been eight years and I c-can't move on..."
My finger found the switch and light flooded the room when I paused by the doorway. My breath hitched and my chest caved in as if the air was being forcefully sucked out of my lung.
Just like every year, the bottles were discarded beside my mother whilst she lay on the floor in a crumpled heap as if she was kneeling at an altar, praying for a miracle - an unheard miracle to bring the dead back.
"We were supposed to g-grow old together...We made plans when we were twelve to visit London, Paris, Sydney, Beijing...What am I supposed to do with those empty plans now?"
My heart hammered painfully in my chest, clenching with sadness. She spent the entire year holding everything in, flashing me smiles that concealed her inner grief but every year on my birthday she would crack open a bottle and just cry her worries away. She rarely drank except on this occasion and I couldn't exactly yell at her for missing my father when I missed him just as much.
"You weren't just my h-husband, you were my childhood b-best friend and soulmate..." Mom trailed off before letting loose a humourless laugh. "You made my life a living hell sometimes, but that was what made us u-us–"
When she broke down I couldn't take it anymore, I stepped into the room and picked up the two bottles. Mom glanced up and met my eyes with shame. Her pale blue eyes welled up and her face crumpled like paper and I immediately enveloped her into a bear hug.
"Shh shh. Don't cry Mom, p-please," I croaked when she buried her head in my chest.
I hoisted her up to her feet and lured her upstairs. After shuffling towards her room, I kicked the door open and helped her change out of her creased work clothes. I made her drink three cups of water, trying to sober her up enough to relieve the mighty hangover due tomorrow before letting her settle into my arms on her bed. I stroked her blonde hair from root to tip, gently easing it out of its loose bun. Twirling a lock between my index finger, I let my other hand slide down her arm to grip her own hand.
"He would have never wanted this for you," She whispered into the darkness after a long while, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.
My rib cage felt like they it was going to collapse in on itself and puncture my lungs. I bit my lip to hold back my tears, shaking my head as I tried to dislodge the lump in my throat.
"You were the light of his world, you know that dear, don't you?"
I nodded and released a shaky breath even though she couldn't see me.
"He used to wonder what type of woman you would grow up to be and we used to talk about all the places we'd take you once we'd have enough money."
Closing my eyes, I felt my father's presence so strongly that I could just about smell his musky aftershave. It was a smell that made me feel safe and secure and happy; but the ache in my chest was making it hard to breathe. Not to mention the fact that my rib cage was squeezing my lungs so tightly that each breath came out as a wheeze.
"When you were a baby he would spend hours singing to you and you used to cry at how bad his voice was, but when he picked you up you would burst out laughing and his beautiful eyes would crinkle as he laughed too."
A cross between a shaky laugh and sob came from my mom when she wiped her cheeks. She lifted her head up to look at me and in the darkness, her stark blue eyes wavered with unshed tears.
"All he ever wanted was for you to have a normal and happy life Ashley."
Normal and happy seemed to represent everything that my life wasn't. It was a chaotic mess of grief and horror that haunted me every night, forcing me to wake up screaming, panting or just sobbing hysterically. That wasn't normal at all, not when the guilt hovering over me the following day was like a thundercloud, like an unwanted presence.
Don't even get me started on my happiness. I haven't felt complete for exactly eight years; not with a gaping hole left in my chest after my father died and that emptiness widened into a black hole when Taylor passed away. Now all my emotions were sucked into that hole making me feel bitter and grumpy all the time.
"It's so uncanny how alike the two of you are. He loved hot chocolate, never made the bed, left dirty laundry around our room and made me want to pull my hair out with frustration when he always lost the TV remote, but he always put everybody else before himself and was always shy around new people, spending all his time daydreaming about our future," Mom trailed off, lifting her head to look at me through the darkness. "You both share those curls and haunting golden-brown eyes."
Her blue eyes seemed to glow, roaming my face as a shaky smile managed to form on her lips.
"Most of all, his legacy lives on in you."
Her luminous eyes and the tenderness in her voice made my chest cave inwards and a sob racked through me.
"Please, s-stop Mom..." I barely choked the words out. "It's too m-much."
I felt her nod against my chest before I finally allowed myself to crumble down. All the emotions that I had held in today: the grief, the anger, the frustration and the pain seethed out of my eyes, drowning my face as I struggled to catch my breath. The lump in throat was just too much to bear. I rocked Mom until I had nothing left inside besides raw eyes and a throbbing headache.
