“Dan,” my mom scolds, even though he didn’t say anything.
I let her go and sit back. “You guys are going to come back when the baby is born, right? At least for a week?”
“Of course,” my mom says, shock in her tone. “We can’t wait to see this beautiful grandbaby.” She points to my stomach.
“Not much longer now,” I say. I’m fast approaching the eight-months mark. “Casey and the girls want to throw me a baby shower.”
“You should let them,” my mom says, picking out a slice of pizza.
I grab a slice too, my stomach rumbling. “But it would only be us,” I say. “It’s not like I know many other people.”
She levels me with the look. “Blaire, what about the people from Group?”
I wrinkle my nose. “I doubt they’d want to come to my baby shower.”
“Who knows?” She shrugs. “Maybe you should ask. What better way to forget about death than to celebrate life?”
“She has a point,” my dad says around a mouthful of pizza.
I breathe out, “Okay.” I nod. “I’ll see.”
“Good.” She smiles and reaches over to squeeze my hand where it rests on the table.
We finish eating and clean up. They stay for another hour, helping me unpack the last of things, before they head to their hotel for the night.
The cable guy hasn’t been by yet so the TVs aren’t hooked up and my internet isn’t set up, either. It leads to an eerily quiet apartment. I’m only surrounded by the sounds of my breaths and the beating of my heart. I haven’t been by myself like this in years and I don’t like it.
I get in bed and will sleep to come, but instead I toss and turn.
I cover my eyes with the crook of my arm and groan. I’m never going to get any sleep feeling like this.
I grab my cellphone off the nightstand and text Ryder.
<b>Me: Are you up?
</b>I hold my breath, waiting for his response. I jump when the phone rings in my hand, flashing his name on the screen.
I swipe my finger across the screen. “Hello?”
“Hey,” he says, and I hear rustling in the background like he’s rolling over in bed. “What’s up?”
I swallow thickly. “I’m sorry I called—”
“It’s okay that you called,” he says quickly.
“It’s weird being here … by myself,” I say, drawing the sheets up to my chin. The ceiling fan whips around above me. “It’s too quiet.” I glance to my right where Winnie sits in the window. Apparently, windows are her favorite spot. Even so, she glares at me. First I took Ben from her and then I took her away from her home. If she didn’t hate me before she definitely hates me now.
Ryder’s breath echoes across the phone. “We’ll talk until you fall asleep then. That way you won’t be alone.”
I roll to my side. “Thank you. I know this is silly, I’ve been sleeping by myself for a while now, but there were always other people in the house. Now it’s a new place and it’s so … empty.” I shake my head even though he can’t see. “Not empty like there’s nothing here—but empty of memories.”
“You’ll fill it with memories,” he says. “One day at a time.”
“Will you help me?” I ask. “To fill it.”
I can’t see him but I know instinctively that he’s smiling. “Absolutely.”
I close my eyes then, feeling better already. “Don’t hang up yet,” I tell him.
“I won’t.” I yawn and he chuckles. “Finally getting sleepy? I’m not boring you, am I?”
I laugh. “No, but you are making me feel better.”
“You make me feel better too,” he says.
We both grow quiet and only the sounds of our breaths fill the phone. I don’t feel so alone now. I eventually drift off to sleep, and it’s one of the best nights of sleep I’ve had in a long time. I know it’s because it felt like Ryder was there with me.
Goodbyes suck.
My lower lip wobbles as I look between my mom and dad. I met them for lunch before they have to leave to catch their flight. I don’t want them to go, but I know they have to. It’s such a turnaround of thought compared to when they first arrived. I couldn’t wait for them to leave—practically begging them to go—but they’ve both been there for me through this whole tragic process and I don’t know how am I going to make it without them. I feel like they’ve been my crutch, and now I have to learn to stand on my own two feet.
“Blaire, we’ll visit soon. The baby will be here in no time. Speaking of the baby,” my mom says, crossing her hands under her chin with her elbows on the table, “have you decided on a name?”
I dam my tears back and take a sip of my iced tea. I’ll have to pee in five minutes from drinking the stuff, but it’s so good I can’t seem to stop. “No,” I say, sliding the drink cup away. “I’ve narrowed it down to five.”
“And they are?” she prompts, batting her eyes, practically begging me to spill the beans.
I shake my head. “Not telling.”