Life in Death Read online

  “Have you seen Marty? Her eulogy was lovely, wasn’t it?” Suzanne only asked to watch her mother react.

  The short, thin woman tucked her chin-length salt-and-pepper hair behind her ear before answering coolly, “Yes, Martha has quite the way with words. Jeff, dear, are you ready to go?” Angela stood and waited for her husband to join her. He looked at his daughter with soft blue eyes that held so many unspoken words.

  Suzanne looked between her parents and shook her head. “Right, good-bye.” She turned and made her way to the stairs.

  Suzanne had told herself that once she was in her former home, she wouldn’t dwell on all the memories. Up until that moment, she had managed to do so. But she couldn’t leave without surrounding herself with her daughter one last time. She stared at the block lettering that spelled out Abigail’s name on the wooden door. She traced the outline of an A and then a B with her fingertip before she opened the door and stepped inside. She closed the door quietly behind her before turning to look around the room. She jumped back when she saw Marty.

  “Jesus!” Suzanne covered her face for a moment with her hand before looking back at Marty. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were in here. I’ll go.” She turned the doorknob but Marty stopped her.

  “Stay.”

  “I shouldn’t. Blake is waiting in the car.”

  “Sit for a minute.” Marty motioned to the empty space beside her on the twin-sized day bed. “It’s nice.” She sniffled and wiped her nose against the back of her hand. “And quiet.”

  Suzanne took a few steps forward and sat on the soft mattress. Six inches separated the women, yet it felt as wide as the grandest canyon ever.

  “I don’t think I’m going to change this room.” Marty looked around, taking in the princess stickers they never removed from the lavender paint, the hammock filled with stuffed animals, and the small craft table tucked in the corner.

  “You don’t have to,” Suzanne said. “You don’t have to change anything until you’re ready.”

  “I’ll never be ready.” Marty was quick to speak. “This is all I have left.” Her eyes welled up again, and she swallowed audibly. “At least I can sit here, close my eyes, and imagine her making little monsters out of Play-Doh or drawing a picture that could be a horse, but was most likely a dinosaur or a dog.”

  Suzanne let out a small laugh. “She would’ve made a great abstract artist,” she added. As soon as the words left her mouth, the smile fell from her face and her chin started to quiver. No matter how often she referred to her daughter in the past tense, she knew it would never get easier. The tears Suzanne had fought all day finally came. Being surrounded by Abigail made it impossible for Suzanne to stay strong for a second longer. She broke down into stomach-twisting sobs.

  Marty swiftly wrapped her in her arms. This was the first moment Suzanne felt as if she were truly grieving her loss.

  They cried together for a long time, getting lost in the familiar comfort of one another so easily. Marty’s clean scent invaded Suzanne’s nose, awakening all her senses at once. Marty held her just the right way, the perfect combination of softness and strength. She hugged Marty back. She wrapped her small hand around the back of Marty’s neck and buried her face into her shoulder. Marty smelled of their favorite fabric softener and the body wash Suzanne bought in bulk every month. Marty tightened her grip around Suzanne’s slim waist, and Suzanne found herself pressed firmly against her ex. To her surprise, she tightened her own grip in return. It brought her back to a time when this embrace could solve all of the problems in her world. A time that felt so long ago.

  She wasn’t sure if it was Marty’s hot skin beneath her palm that startled her back to reality or the unexpected and woefully inappropriate flicker of desire she felt. Suzanne pulled back suddenly and pushed at Marty. When Marty didn’t let go soon enough, Suzanne balled her hands into fists and slammed them against her chest to gain some distance. Marty relinquished her hold and moved away from the abrupt, violent outburst.

  “I’m sorry.” Marty held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have! You have no right!” The fury that had been building within her had finally reached its boiling point, and she had a hard time sitting still. She was finally ready to fire off all the things she should’ve said over six months ago. “You do not get to touch me, you do not get to tell me it’ll all be okay! You gave that up the night you destroyed us!” Suzanne’s voice cracked. She was sure the guests below them could hear her every word, but she couldn’t muster up the necessary energy to care.

  “We both destroyed us. I just gave you a good enough excuse to walk away!” Marty responded loudly.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You were gone, Suzanne! When Abby was in the hospital the first time, you wouldn’t even look at me.” Marty stood toe-to-toe with Suzanne, her nostrils flared.

  “You mean when you finally decided to grace us with your presence? You were so busy with work that we barely saw you.”

  “I had to make sure we didn’t lose the house or the cars, and I had to be prepared to pay any hospital bills the insurance wouldn’t pick up. You knew that.”

  “Was that my fault too because I didn’t work?” Suzanne asked, stepping even closer and looking into Marty’s eyes. She wanted to see the moment her next words made impact. “Tell me this, Marty, were you really working or was she not your first?” Each word was delivered through a venomous smirk.

  “Fuck you.”

  “Ladies!” Both women looked at Marty’s mother standing in the doorway shaking her head. “This is hardly the time or place for this. You both should know better.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Dempsey. I was just leaving.” Suzanne rushed past the older woman and fled the house.

  After the front door had slammed shut, Denise looked back to her daughter. “We’ll talk about this later.” She turned and went back down to the first floor, which still held a few guests.

  “Son of a bitch!” Marty kicked at a cardboard box that sat on the floor at the foot of Abigail’s bed. The box was filled with everything she had with her during her final stay at the hospital. Marty wasn’t ready to unpack it yet. She wiped her face in frustration and looked down to see a battered teddy bear staring back at her. She remembered giving it to Abby when she was two and had a bad respiratory cold. Somehow, she and the two-year-old had decided to name him Ripley. She picked up Ripley from his resting spot and sat him on the edge of Abigail’s bed. She looked intently at the plush bear. She fingered his frayed ears, held him up to her nose, and closed her eyes. He smelled of Abigail. When she opened her eyes again, she started sorting through the rest of its contents.

  She pushed aside books and magazines Abigail never got the chance to read along with various sweaters and hats, several bandanas and fuzzy sets of socks. Something beneath all the novelties caught Marty’s eye. The corner of a bright blue envelope stuck up, one that didn’t belong to any stationery Marty was familiar with. Marty turned it over and read the front. In Abigail’s bubbly, large print was Mama followed by several hearts and a lopsided smiley face. With a trembling hand, she opened the envelope and pulled a small sheet of paper from it. Before she read the first line, her eyes had welled with tears, obscuring the rest of the words but not making them any less clear.

  Dear Mama,

  Why do cows have bells? Because their horns don’t work!

  Marty laughed and wiped her nose before continuing to read the short but sweet letter.

  Thank you for being such a great mom. I love you.

  Love,

  Abigail

  P.S. I’m sorry you’re so sad.

  P.S.S. Mommy’s sad too.

  P.P.S.S. And she loves you too.

  Marty stared at the last line for what felt like forever. The memory of her last conversation with Abigail had been buried so deeply beneath grief, she had almost forgotten about it. She reread the words over and over, letting th
em sink in, stick out, and touch her heart each time. She thought back to the earlier incident with Suzanne and allowed herself to believe for just one minute that what Abigail had written was true. Maybe Abby’s last words to her weren’t wishful thinking. Maybe Suzanne loved her, still loved her. Maybe she hadn’t lost everything after all.

  They Had a Wedding

  The happy couple swayed in time to one of their favorite songs. Marty beamed down at her bride, sparkling with a happiness so immense it was blinding. She gripped Suzanne’s left hand before twirling the gorgeous blonde. Marty was rewarded with Suzanne’s belly laugh, a sound she knew would make her heart stutter for the rest of her life.

  “Are you enjoying yourself, Mrs. Dempsey?” Marty asked when she pulled Suzanne close once again. She kissed the back of her hand softly before nibbling gently at the soft skin. Suzanne let out a girlish giggle.

  “I am, Mrs. Dempsey. This has been one of the best days of my life.”

  “One of? What’s another?”

  “The night I met you.” They turned at the sound of silverware tapping against crystal.

  “If everyone would please take their seats,” the DJ said softly. “We have a few people who’d like to say a few words to this lovely couple.”

  Suzanne’s sister was the first to speak. Carla wasn’t one for public speaking. She sounded rushed and shaky, but as Suzanne’s maid of honor she was obligated to say something. She finished the short speech with kind words that took her sister by surprise.

  “Suzie,” Carla said, raising her glass. The deep magenta of her gown highlighted the blush on her cheeks and the nervous flush across her chest. “I can only hope I find a love like you have with Marty. She brings out a side of you I’ve never seen, and it’s beautiful. You both bring out the best in each other. And, Marty, please don’t hurt her because then I’d have to kill you and I don’t stand a chance in jail. Cheers to Marty and Suzanne.” Carla swallowed her champagne in one gulp.

  “That was sweet,” Marty leaned over and whispered in her wife’s ear.

  “She’s not kidding.” A devious smirk curled up across Suzanne’s mouth before she kissed her new wife softly. They separated with a quiet pop.

  “Good to know.”

  “Up next, Mrs. Carlson, the mother of one of our beautiful brides, would like to say a few words.” The announcer handed Angela the wireless microphone.

  “Oh, no.” Suzanne shrank into her chair.

  “It’ll be fine.” Marty gripped Suzanne’s hand on the tabletop and hoped she believed her words, even if Marty didn’t believe them herself. The newlyweds looked at one another with alarm in their eyes when they noticed Angela stagger.

  “Hello.” Angela looked around the cozy space. “Doesn’t Suzanne look stunning?” A round of applause resounded in the room. “Like mother, like daughter.” Angela cackled, and a few guests laughed as well. “But seriously,” She held the microphone with a steady hand as she twirled a tumbler of scotch in the other. “This isn’t exactly what I had envisioned for my oldest daughter when I dreamt of her wedding day.” Angela took a sip of her drink.

  Suzanne looked to her sister with a panicked expression. Carla placed her hand on her mother’s wrist and tried to stop her subtly, but was brushed off.

  “I had pictured a normal life for Suzanne, one with a handsome husband and biological children, but she decided to be a lesbian.” She waved her hand toward Suzanne, a small bit of liquor spilling over the edge of the crystal glass. “I suppose she could do worse than Martha.”

  “I can’t listen to this anymore.” Suzanne moved to stand but was held in place by Marty’s strong hands.

  “Hey.” Marty locked her eyes on watery blue and smiled reassuringly. “Today is our day,” she said. “You can curse about this all you want later when everyone has left.” Marty laughed in an attempt to bring the mood back to the wondrous feeling that engulfed them moments before. “Right now, just be my bride on our wedding day.”

  Suzanne took a deep breath and visibly relaxed. “Okay, but only if you promise my family baggage won’t scare you away.”

  “I’m already under contract. I’m not going anywhere.” Marty held up her left hand and pointed to her wedding ring.

  “That’s enough of that.” A firm voice echoed around the guests and both brides. Charlotte had the microphone and Angela was walking away with her head down like a child that had just been reprimanded. “I think it’s time for Marty’s best friend and maid of honor to get us back on track, what do you all think?” The crowd responded with a robust yes! in unison. “We should all be proposing a toast to two very important, very beautiful women in this room.” Charlotte raised her glass into the air, one black eyebrow quirked up. “That would be myself and Annmarie, for introducing these two.” The crowd erupted with laughter, both brides joining in.

  “It’s a tale of deception, intrigue, and tomfoolery, but we don’t have time to go into all of that right now. What I do have time to say is: Suzanne, boy am I glad this one stuck!” Suzanne wrapped herself around Marty’s arm and placed a kiss on her shoulder. “And Marty, I’m still mad at you for making me wear purple.”

  “Magenta!” Marty called out.

  “It’s purple,” Charlotte said with a chuckle. “I’ve been so lucky to be part of such a beautiful love story, one that has many more chapters left to live, with the kind of happy ending two wonderful people truly deserve. A toast,” her glass was in the air once again, this time with finality, “to what destiny and true love looks like.”

  While everyone finished their champagne, the DJ hid the microphone back at his station, ensuring the speeches were finished for the night. As the first course was being served, he played a list of ballads both brides had requested. Several couples rose and made their way to the small dance floor.

  “I’d love to dance with my wife again,” Suzanne said. She rose from her chair and smoothed the front of her cream-colored suit. Her long, thick blond waves were pulled to the side and secured with an antique silver comb, the length cascading over her right shoulder. The matching cream silk blouse she wore under her suit jacket was left unbuttoned just enough to showcase a tantalizing hint of cleavage, enough skin to distract Marty from time to time. Marty followed her wife to the center of the floor.

  They were lost in one another and the rhythm they moved to. The flash of cameras did little to distract the wordless communication in their gaze and between their bodies. With every pass of Suzanne’s fingertips over the bare skin of her shoulders and arms, Marty’s knees would weaken with desire. More than once Marty would look at Suzanne’s pink lips and be overcome with the urge to taste them. Every time she got that urge, she’d dip her head and kiss her bride tenderly.

  Marty touched Suzanne’s cheek, tracing the outline of cheekbones and eyebrows with a whisper of a caress.

  “You are gorgeous,” Marty said. Suzanne lowered her head and tried to hide her blush, but Marty captured her chin in her hand and forced her eyes up. “I love you.” She kissed the tip of Suzanne’s nose. “Only because you’re so beautiful.” Marty smiled when Suzanne let out a loud guffaw, one that rose above the chatter and music that floated around them.

  “I better make sure I maintain myself, then.”

  “You better,” Marty agreed.

  “You can let yourself go, though.” Suzanne ran her hands up Marty’s bare arms into her loose brunette waves. She combed her fingers through Marty’s hair, scratching along the back of her head. The taller bride nearly purred at the ministrations. “I don’t mind being the better-looking one,” Suzanne said.

  “And let you get all the attention? Never!” Marty lifted her wife off the ground and spun her in a circle before releasing her and kissing her soundly. They danced and laughed into the night, only separating long enough to refill a drink or to seek out a second slice of decadent wedding cake.

  Once the newlyweds had made it back to the honeymoon suite they had booked at a local resort, Suzanne sat on the
edge of a large bed covered with rose petals, awaiting her wife’s return from the bathroom. She had forgotten all about her mother’s drunken offenses.

  None of that mattered anymore.

  All her attention and thought went to the woman who was showing her just how much love one human being was capable of having for another. With each kiss, she echoed the vows she’d spoken earlier in the day and made a promise to embrace this new life with her whole heart and being. This life was no longer just hers. It was theirs.

  Chapter Five

  Marty stared at her reflection and a tired woman stared back. It had taken her twice as long to shower, dress, and brush her teeth that morning. Everyone at the office told her a week off wasn’t enough, that she needed to take her time and get back to work when she was ready. But every night her empty house echoed with regret, failure, and despair. She had no choice but to be ready because staying home and being reminded of everything she lost sounded a lot worse than going into work and staying distracted for a few hours. Marty stared blankly into her own eyes. The darkness was calling to her. Maybe she should stay in bed a bit longer, rest her tired limbs along with her heart. Maybe she should think a little harder about what part of her life was worth living anymore. Marty shook her head.

  She smoothed her palms down the front of her black skirt one more time before leaving the house.

  Marty was overwhelmed being back at work, feeling everyone’s eyes on her and listening to their hushed whispers about “the woman whose daughter died.” Only Annmarie and Charlotte managed to talk about mundane topics after an initial checkin with their sullen friend. The dark circles under her dull green eyes and the state of her frizzy hair gave away her real state, but she assured the two women she was something less than fine but still alive.

  Three picky, unrealistic clients kept Marty busy that Monday afternoon. She needed rapid-fire showings and complete strangers to keep her mind and heart from dwelling on what she should’ve done differently.