Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
My brain feels like it’s physically melting inside my skull. “If this is a prank,” I choke out. “Then you’re—”
“This is very real, unfortunately. I’m sorry for your loss.”
A strangled wail escapes me—a horrible, tortured screech I’ve never heard my body produce before now. It’s the sound of a heart shattering. The sound of a lifelong soulmate being ripped away from its other half. And worst of all, it’s the sound of an innocent, happy two-year-old losing her beloved mommy, in the blink of an eye.
“Maybe it wasn’t her,” I manage between sobs.
“It was definitely her. She had her ID on her and a co-worker identified her. Listen, can you help us contact Claudia’s next of kin? The emergency number Claudia listed at work for her mother doesn’t work, and—”
“Claudia’s mother died a couple months ago.” With the phone to my ear, I wrap my free arm around myself and rock back and forth, feeling physically ill.
“Can you confirm we’ve got the right number for her father, Ralph Beaumont? We left a voicemail for him to call us, but—”
“You called Claudia’s father?” I scream at top volume. “She never wanted to see him again! She hated him!”
The officer says something in reply, but I don’t hear a word of it; because, suddenly, Claudia’s tiny, blonde doppelganger is standing in the entryway to the living room with wide, anxious eyes and chaotic bedhead.
“I have to go,” I bark into the phone. Without waiting for the detective’s reply, I disconnect the call and stride on wobbly legs to the sweet angel who’s got no idea her mommy is never coming home again.
“You not use inside voice,” Raine chides me groggily, rubbing her eyes and yawning. “‘Member what Mommy said?”
With a loud sob, I pull Raine to me and hold her tightly for a long moment, as she babbles about I don’t know what. Finally, when I lean back to look into her eyes, she wipes at my tears with her little hand and says, “You have boo-boo, Auntie Aubbey? You need Band-Aid?”
The two innocent questions shatter the last remaining shards of my heart. That’s what Claudia always asks her baby girl, whenever she cries for as-yet unknown reasons.
Without waiting for my reply, Raine adds, “I get Mommy.”
She starts to wriggle in my arms, presumably aiming to get down and run to her mommy down the hall, but I keep a firm grip on her and bring her to the couch. “Mommy’s not in there, baby. Stay here with me. I need to tell you something important.”
I place her on my lap, facing me. For a long moment, I can’t get another word out, because my chin is quivering too much. But finally, I manage to pull myself together enough to speak in a tight, halting voice. “Rainey, Mommy went to heaven last night. She didn’t want to go. She wanted to stay here with you, forever, but she didn’t have a choice. She had to go.”
Raine tilts her head and scrunches her itty-bitty eyebrows, looking deeply confused. “Like Gramma?”
I run my fingers through Raine’s soft, blonde hair. “Just like Gramma, yes. Mommy’s body is gone now—” The words feel like razor blades being dragged across my heart. “But her spirit will always watch over you and love you.” I don’t mean to do it, but I lose it; and that’s when Raine loses it, too.
“I don’t want Mommy in da heaven!” she screams. “I want Mommy here now!”
“I know, baby. I want that, too. But she had to go.”
“Mommy come back here now!”
“She can’t. But I’m here, and I promise I’ll always take care of you.”
“I. Want. My. Mommy!” Raine wails, huge tears pouring down her cheeks. She leaps off the couch and puts her hands on her little hips. “You get my mommy now!”
Raine reminds me so much of her sassy, charismatic mommy in this moment, my body reacts violently. Holding my hand to my mouth, I lurch off the couch, sprint past Raine into the nearby bathroom, and retch out the entire contents of my stomach.
When I’m done, I sit on the floor, crying and whimpering. How the fuck am I going to do this? I’m twenty-four and a waitress. Without Claudia’s money from The Drummer, I can’t afford to live in Seattle on my own. Although, come to think of it, now that Claudia is gone, I don’t even want to live here. Big city life was always Claudia’s dream, not mine. I much prefer the quiet pace of our small hometown.
I make a snap decision. I’ll go home to Prairie Springs—to the place where my parents can help me—financially, emotionally, and logistically—to the place where I can safely break down and curl into the fetal position for however long, while my parents look after Raine.
As resolve floods me, Raine waddles into the bathroom doorway and whimpers that she wants her mommy. Realizing I’ve got to pull myself together for Raine’s sake, I force myself off the floor, gulp down water from the faucet, and splash cold water on my face. When I finally feel capable of speaking, I scoop up Raine and take her to my bedroom.