Page 28 of Singled Out
“Yeah?”
I let out a self-derisive scoff, thinking back to the early days with Danny. “I was in robot mode for the first few weeks after my cousin and his wife died. I put all my energy into Danny. Figuring out how to take care of an infant. Giving him what he needed.”
“Ignoring deep thoughts as much as you could. Because deep thoughts are excruciating.” She was hugging her knees to her chest, peering out at the dark lake.
“Exactly.” I pulled my soaked knees up to rest my forearms on them. “Everyone kept telling me I needed to grieve, needed to process my feelings, but I couldn’t make time for feelings. Not when I had this little guy who needed everything from me.”
“I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like. I wouldn’t know the first thing about taking care of a baby.”
“I didn’t either. Jamie—that’s my cousin—and his wife lived in San Diego. I went there to meet Daniel a few days after he was born. I saw him when they came back for a visit, but I’d never even changed his diaper. Didn’t know when he napped or what he liked to eat.”
“That’s a crash course. Way more than I had to figure out with Naomi’s studio.”
“It sort of saved me.” My voice had gone thick with emotion as I remembered those first months after Jamie and Shay died. This was stuff I hadn’t talked about to anyone. It seemed like maybe Harper would be able to relate. “I think I needed something to keep me from facing my loss all at once. I don’t know if that makes sense. It sounds fucked up when I say it out loud.”
A soft, sympathetic laugh came from Harper. “It does sound fucked up, and I can relate to it completely.” Her tone went back to serious. “So has the hard stuff hit you yet?”
I nodded, thinking of a single night when all the walls had crumbled, and I couldn’t hold my bone-deep grief at bay anymore. “It…was ugly.”
“Sounds about right,” Harper said.
We both went silent. The insect chorus played on behind us. A fish splashed over by the pilings on the opposite side of the dock. I did my best not to let the details sneak in about that night when I’d been bowled over by grief.
“I underwater ugly cried enough to raise the water level of the lake by at least an inch from all the tears,” Harper said a little flippantly. I knew that was to cover her self-consciousness. “Can you beat that?”
“Oh, I think so,” I said without hesitation. I did pause before saying more. This story wouldn’t paint me in a good light. If it ever got out to anyone else, I’d be mortified. It was the opposite of what this town expected from me. A true example of how much the real Max didn’t have his shit together in the least. “I’ve never told anyone this story.”
“I won’t breathe a word of it.”
I closed my eyes. Was I really going to own up to one of the most shameful, awful moments of my life? Yes, I was. I realized I trusted Harper with it.
“Back in February, I had to go to Nashville for a two-day seminar for math educators. My brother, Levi, was watching Danny at his house.” I took a deep breath, feeling the tightening in my chest, the thickening of sadness balling up in my throat. “It was two days before Daniel’s first birthday. That was at the top of my mind even though I’d be home in time for it.”
Unable to stay still anymore, I stuck my hand in the water, splashing, swirling it around as I continued. “After the evening session at the end of the first day, I went back to my hotel room. It was quiet, peaceful. Ironically, I’d originally considered driving back that night to stay in my own bed and be home for Danny, but my mom and brother convinced me that getting away would be good for me.”
“Not so much, I’m guessing?” Harper asked.
“Not so much. It was so quiet I couldn’t escape from my thoughts. It was like all that hard-core shit had just been hovering, waiting for a quiet minute when I didn’t have anything else to do, and it all swooped in. Wouldn’t let go of me. That was the night when it really sank in that Danny was mine. Forever. He was turning one—a big deal for every child—but his parents wouldn’t be there to celebrate it or any other birthdays. I was the one responsible for that now. For birthdays, for sicknesses, for preschool and high school and…everything. His whole life. Boom. Hit me like a boulder fell on my head.”
“That’s a lot,” she said.
“Before that, I don’t know, I just…took care of him. Like I was a long-term babysitter or something. I didn’t consciously think of it that way, but that night, in the ‘peaceful’ hotel room, reality bore down, and it was almost like Jamie had just died that day, the way the emotions knocked me on my ass.”
Harper reached over and grasped my hand that was still resting on my knee. She squeezed it, silently telling me she understood.
“And?” she asked in a whisper. “What did you do?”
“Well.” I sat up straighter, attempting to be as matter-of-fact as possible, trying to disconnect from any emotions it dislodged. “I left and drove home, not for any reason other than I couldn’t be in that hotel for another second.”
“That’s how I felt when I was lying in bed earlier. Nothing against your guest room,” she said in a rush. “It wouldn’t have mattered where I was. I just needed to get out.”
I nodded. That was it exactly. “I probably shouldn’t have been driving. Definitely not all the way home. I don’t really remember the drive, just the pain.” I swallowed hard. “When I pulled into my garage, I was a mess. I saw my bicycle. I hadn’t touched it for years, but it was in plain view, just sitting there. Jamie and I used to ride bikes together, whenever he came to town to visit, back when we were too young to drive.”
Harper squeezed my hand again, as if she sensed the hard part was coming.
“I took a sledgehammer to my bike,” I said. “Just…lost my ever-loving shit and beat the hell out of it until it was mangled and in pieces, and then I hammered it some more. I was out of my mind. I can’t explain it or defend it. I was just so fucking upset.”
When I thought Harper would’ve decided I was insane and put distance between us, she leaned her head against my shoulder, still holding on to my hand.