Page 3 of The Blessing

Chapter 2

Disarm

I couldn’t bring myself to look in the caskets. I wasn’t interested in the work the morticians did to make my brother and sister-in-law look “normal.” I did, however, watch as others walked by to pay their respects. I saw the pain that consumed them as they walked away from the caskets to take their seats. I didn’t want to see Dean or Cat like this. I wanted to remember them as they once were: alive. Dean’s smiling face is vivid in my mind—as if it were just yesterday we were laughing together. I grow ill at the thought of looking into his casket and seeing the expressionless look on his face. Fuck the drunk driver who crashed into them and drove away as if the accident was fucking nothing. What a disgraceful, pathetic fucking coward.

I look around the crowded room, curious to see who showed up to Dean and Cat’s funerals. They were an extremely popular couple who had friends all over the place. I used to envy my brother’s popularity as well as his gregarious spirit because I was practically a fucking hermit—only dragging myself out of my room to party on the weekends.

Although my brother had many friends—there was one person in particular we had both been good buddies with since we all met in middle school. Travis Carter and my brother had always been tight, constantly there for each other whenever either one was in a bind. So, I’m surprised to find that Travis is nowhere to be seen today. I suppose this shit must be hard for him, too. He was my brother’s closest friend, after all. Hell, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be supportive of my family. I hate funerals. I always have and I know I always will. However, I know I’d hate it less if Travis were here. At least then I could have someone I could share memories of my brother with. I don’t really recognize anyone else here outside of my and Cat’s family. So, I sit quietly next to my dad and rock Grey in my lap.

I keep my gaze down, not wanting to see any more sympathetic stares, and instead focus all my attention on the little orphan in my arms. Fuck, I can’t believe Grey has to grow up without his parents. I can’t believe he won’t remember them. Tears fill my eyes and spill down my cheeks before I can stop them. I cry for my brother and his wife; I cry for my nephew; I cry for my parents; before, finally, crying for myself. Hopefully this loss will bring us together. I hope there’s a silver lining out of all this fucking pain.

Grey grows fussy in my arms and I quickly wipe away my tears to look at him. Fuck, I can’t remember the last time I cried like this. I don’t think I’ve ever cried like this about anything. Grey begins to cry, too and I suddenly feel guilty. I need to be strong for him. He deserves that much. He reaches up to touch my wet cheek and frowns at me, looking distraught as he gazes at my tears.

“It’s all right, buddy. I’m okay,” I assure him, bringing him up to rest on my shoulder as I rub circles on his little back. “Everything is all right, Grey.”

I hear a little hiccup and I know his crying has thankfully ceased. I can’t stand to see him cry. Especially fucking today. I rock him in my arms and try to pour all the love my heart has left into him. He has quickly become everything to me.

Everyone begins to take their seats and I know the worst part is about to begin. I don’t know if I can stand to listen to so many people talk about Dean and Cat. If I listen to their words, I’ll have to accept that all of this is truly happening. The past five days have felt like a bad fucking dream I can’t seem to wake-up from and this funeral has already stirred so much turmoil inside me. This isn’t a horrible nightmare I’ll awake from, to find Dean and Cat are still alive; this is my new reality, whether I want to accept it or not.

“Did you want to say anything, Trevor?” Dad asks me. “I know you didn’t write anything, but he was your brother and I’m sure everyone would love to hear you speak.”

I shudder at the thought. “I can’t,” I manage to rasp out. I feel pathetic, but I know if I got up in front of all these people, I would either fall to pieces or burn this whole place to the ground.

“That’s fine, Trevor,” he says sincerely as he wraps one of his arms around my shoulders. “Your mom isn’t speaking either.”

Dad is the only one of us with enough courage to speak. I commend him for it—although, I’m not surprised. He’s always been the strong on in our family. The one who could always deal with any problem when the shit hit the fan. I always admired him for being like that. And, despite the troubles I’ve had in my life, part of me always wanted to be more like him.

I zone out as Dean and Cat’s friends speak. I want to kick myself for doing so, but I don’t want to listen to their memories. I don’t want to remember what my brother used to be like while he was alive because I don’t want to admit to the fact that he’s dead. Instead, I watch Grey as he looks up at me with those curious, innocent eyes. I wonder what he’s thinking. He’s so blissfully unaware of what this all means. I wish I could be ignorant of all the shit things in the world. What I wouldn’t give to go back to a place and time when things were easier; when every fucking thing went over my head.

My dad squeezes my shoulder, effectively pulling me from my thoughts. My entire body tenses as if waiting for a fatal blow as I watch him get up from his seat beside me and walk to the podium. I don’t want to listen to this. His voice floods my senses as he begins to describe what life was like with Dean. His story flows in one ear and out the other; I don’t comprehend a single word of it. It takes all the strength I have to stay put in my seat. I hear mom softly sobbing a seat over from me, but I make no move to comfort her—immobilized by my own pain.

The rest of the funeral flies by in a blur. There’s a sea of people I don’t recognize, words I don’t understand, and sympathetic glances which make my stomach turn. Despite all of the different looks I receive, there’s only one I remember: my mother looking at me in a way which I don’t want to acknowledge. She doesn’t stare at me with love—appreciating that I’m the only son she has left. No, her eyes are filled with something much different. She stares at me as if she’s asking herself: “Why is he here? Why couldn’t he be the one to die instead of my Dean?” Guilt shoots through me as I look back at her. She’s right. My death would have been more fitting. No one fucking cared about me. I didn’t have a family of my own or a promising future. Why was I the surviving son? I suppose the universe is a cold-hearted, senseless bitch sometimes because nothing ever seems fair to me.

As morning breaks the next day, I wake to my first day of “acceptance.” Dean’s gone, and in his absence, I’ll have to step up. I have to do the right thing for Grey. My brother trusted me with his son and I’ll be damned if I fuck this responsibility up. Today is a new day and I try so desperately to push the funeral as far away from my mind as fucking possible as I roll out of bed. Today, I’ll be productive. I have so much lost time to make up for. I’ve spent the last five years of my life fucking around and never once thought about my future. At twenty-four years old I don’t know where the fuck my life is going. I don’t know whether I believed, deep down, that I wouldn’t live long enough to have a future, or if I simply didn’t care enough to work hard to make a decent life for myself. Dean had always been so career-focused and goal oriented, while I just focused on partying and getting laid. Now that I have a baby to care for, I know I have to pull my head out of my ass.

I quickly get ready before tending to Grey, wanting to give him my undivided attention. My mother usually helps out with this shit, but not today. I want to start getting some practice before I’m off on my own. Fuck, God knows when that will happen at this rate. I’m a twenty-four-year-old with a GED and no prospects. I don’t want to be so down on myself this early in the game, but I can’t help but be ashamed of the choices I made in the past. Hell, I probably wouldn’t have gotten my GED if my parents hadn’t jumped my case and made me. It’s easy to look at my decisions retrospectively and dislike them, but it’s not just that. I dislike the man I used to be. The man who was really just a boy; a boy who believed life was one giant game and he was invincible. Oh, how fucking wrong I was.

Feeling somewhat defeated, I walk down the hall to gather Grey from his crib. He’s surprisingly still asleep by the time I reach him, but I suppose it’s still early in the morning. As if he senses my presence, Grey’s eyes slowly open and he gives me a sleepy smile. Fuck, I love this kid already. I pick him up from his crib and hold him close, enjoying the feeling of his fuzzy hair against my cheek. He’s so warm and so small; sometimes I’m afraid I’ll hurt him because he’s so little.

“Are you ready to take a bath, Grey?” I ask as I rock him in my arms. Of course, I know he can’t answer, but it’s nice to have someone to talk to. Even if it is a five-moth-old baby. As strange as it sounds, I feel like I can see my reflection in his eyes and even though he can’t form the words to respond—I feel as if his face is expressive enough to answer any question I could have. Grey’s smiling up at me and I take that smile as a “yes.” So, I carry him into the kitchen.

I’ve seen my mother bathing him in the kitchen sink since he’s so small. I’ve never bathed him myself—but how hard could it be? It doesn’t take long for me to discover that bathing a baby isn’t an easy feat. Grey wiggles around in the sink, making himself slide all over the fucking place, and he laughs every time the lukewarm water sloshes around him. I can see how it could be frustrating, but after everything that’s happened in this little boy’s life, I’m just happy to see him smiling like this. I know he doesn’t understand the weight of what’s happened, but eventually he will. Even if it’s years down the road. I just want to give him a normal, happy childhood.

Grey begins to splash the shallow water around him and squeals as it hits his face. I can’t help but laugh at him, enjoying the moment we’re sharing together. I pause, realizing this has been the first time I laughed in a very long time. Emotions swell in my heart, and for a moment, I can barely breathe. I finish washing his hair before pulling him from the sink and wrapping him in a towel. See, Trevor. That wasn’t as bad as you thought it’d be!

Feeling proud of myself, I take him back to his nursery to get him dressed. That’s another thing which isn’t easy: trying to dress your baby as he’s constantly squirming around and kicking every time you try to slip his pants on. It takes a moment, but once I get in hang of maneuvering him, I get it done. As silly as it may be, I feel extremely accomplished. I’ve never cared for anyone before and I’m getting things done on my first try! Before this, I could barely take care of myself, so the fact I can take care of a baby amazes me. After Grey is in a fresh diaper—which I’m not entirely sure is on correctly—and dressed, I take him to the kitchen to have some breakfast with me. Our breakfast consists of a bowl of cereal for me and a bottle of formula and a jar of bananas for him. After he’s finished with his meal, I sit him comfortably on my lap while I search for job openings on my phone.

Turns out, there isn’t much for me besides a few retail jobs and cook positions at chain restaurants. I was a cook out in California and managed to save up a bit of money before returning to Colorado, but not nearly enough money to afford me a place well suited for Grey and me. I grow disheartened as I scan through the options, realizing none of the jobs pay enough for me to afford much. However, I can’t be picky. I’m not college educated and I don’t have a wealth of job experience, so, I can’t expect to get a job which will meet all of my needs and expectations. I’ll just have to settle, and perhaps something good will come along eventually.

I decide on applying to anyplace I think will give me an interview. Good or bad, I need a job. I settle Grey down at his baby gym before walking off to find my dad. I know he’ll let me borrow his laptop if I tell him the reasoning behind it. Despite it being nine o’clock in the morning on a Sunday, I find him in his den scouring over files. I suppose he wants to distract him from Dean’s death—just like I do. I lightly knock on his door and wait for him to look up. When he does, he looks even more tired than he did last time I saw him. His features are gaunt, his eyes are full of anguish. However, despite all of this, he smiles as soon as he sees me.

“Trevor, you’re up early,” he comments as he gestures for me to sit in one of his wingback chairs in front of his desk.

“Yeah, I’m not as lazy as I was as a teenager,” I joke as I take a seat.

I spent my summers as a teen sleeping in until three in the afternoon every day after a night of drinking and partying. Of course, my dad had no idea since I was so good at sneaking out. I wish I hadn’t been so fucking indolent then. I could’ve been focusing on something advantageous. I guess as a teen, I had no fucking foresight.

“I didn’t want to bother you. I just wanted to see if I could borrow the laptop form you. I wanted to apply for some jobs today.”