Linda's Story

It's Always "Sorry"

She hadn't seen her granddaughter for a few weeks now. She supposed it was normal though- Linda was busy taking care of Danny. Poor man, Rosita shook her head, getting shot while his wife was pregnant. She had done what any good grandmother would have done: made enough food for an army and sent it over.

She had been confused when Joe answered the door. "Hello, Joe."

"Hey, Rosita. Is this all for Danny and Linda?" He had taken the casserole dishes from her and placed them on the floor inside the door.

"Si... are they home? I'd like to see my nipotina."

"She's napping right now. But I'll tell her you can by."

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

"No."

"Okay...."

She hadn't believed Joe for a second, but she let it go. Now she was even more concerned. It was a month later, and she hadn't heard a word from Danny or Linda. Her nipotina called her at least once a week, and saw her a few times a month.

Rosita was just about to take matters into her own hands, when the doorbell rang. She opened the door and was surprised but very happy to see Linda. "Tesora!"

Linda hugged her grandmother, cursing in her head when the tears immediately came.

"Linda, what's wrong?" Rosita stepped back, only now noticing that her granddaughter didn't look so pregnant anymore.

She could only cry, barely registering Rosita leading her into the house to sit on the couch. She cried as her grandmother held her, always grateful that the elderly lady let her feel whatever emotions she needed to feel.

Once Rosita was sure Linda was finished with her tears, she stood to get her ice water and sinus pills. (Rosita had no use for sinus pills in her house until Linda started living with her. Now she had them on hand.)

"Grazie, Nonna."

"Prego. What's wrong, dolcezza?"

"I... I- I had a still birth," she whispered, gripping tightly onto the glass.

"Che cosa?"

Linda shook her head and started to speak haltingly. "I- I don't know. I.. went into early labor. And... the baby didn't- didn't make it."

"Mi dispiace tanto." She didn't know what else to say to something like that.

Linda only shook her head again, not knowing what to do. "It's not fair. He deserves to be a Dad. It's not fair!"

Rosita hugged Linda, letting her live out all her emotions. She wished it was different for her granddaughter.

*********

Danny groaned and loudly cursed at the sandwich he was trying and failing to make.

"Need any help?" Joe wondered.

"No," he snapped, when clearly the answer was yes.

"Why don't you just ask Linda to help?"

"Because she just-" he started loudly, then lowered his voice as if someone unwanted could hear him. "She's a lot worse off than I am. I'll heal from the bullet wound, but she'll never heal from the loss of her first baby."

Joe nodded, he hadn't thought about it that way. He, of course, felt awful for the married couple.

"It's not fair. She was so excited about the baby. Before we got married, she told me about her suspected fertility problems. So when she got pregnant, four months in, she was over the moon. You saw her-"

"She was ecstatic. Even through all the puking and nausea."

"She didn't deserve this, not at all. She was so scared I wouldn't want to marry her because of the fertility thing. She was in tears, Joe, when she told me."

"Obviously you said it didn't matter."

"Absolutely. If we can't have biological children, they we'll adopt." He would have said more if the door hadn't opened.

Linda came in, looking like she hadn't slept in ten years, and immediately hugged her husband. She broke down in tears, not even noticing Joe's presence.

Joe quietly excused himself, signaling he'd call later on.

Danny led Linda to the chair, "what's wrong?"

"I.. I told Nonna a-about...."

He understood, "what did she say?"

"That she was sorry. Really sorry. Everyone's sorry. They're not mad, they're not disappointed, they're not devastated. They're just sorry."

"The entire family is sad, Linda," he told her in a soft voice.

"Then why not say it? Why can't people say I'm sad about it too? It'd be a much better thing to say than sorry."

"I think people don't say that they're sad too, because they're trying to... comfort you. They don't want to make it about them, because it's about you. And how you feel. Not how they feel about it."

She sighed heavily, the motion tugging at her sore, tired muscles. "But sorry? That's the least thing anyone could say."

He pushed her hair behind her ear, "are you hungry?"

She shook her head, then stood up. "I'm going to lie down."

Danny watched helplessly as she trudged to and up the stairs. He closed his eyes, not knowing what he could do for his wife.

*********

Ever since he learned about her self harming, he'd debate with himself whether to follow her to the bathroom or leave her be. He was getting better at judging when she was on a spiral, and when she just needed to cry alone. But he also knew she hated being alone for long, and always wanted cuddles after the tears. So he gave up on his lunch, and sought his wife in the en-suite.

He kneeled across from her, "hey."

"Hey." She didn't look at him, her eyes glued to the floor.

He looked around, trying to discreetly check for any cuts on her.

"I've just been crying," she told him tiredly. "Not cuts."

He moved to lean against the wall with her, "that's good, Linda."

"Normal people don't have to utter that sentence."

"Those people didn't go through what you went through.... how do you feel?"

She huffed out a heavy breath, "empty. Like... I'm just a shell of a human. A... cardboard cut out of me, of Linda. A sad, soggy, moldy cardboard cut out."

Danny kissed her cheek, "you're not cardboard."

"I just feel that way."

He never knew (and never would know) what to say in times like this. Everything he thought of sounded automatic and empty. All he could do was hold her and give her what she needed.

"I'm s-" he stopped himself from saying those words. "My mobility might be a little limited right now, but no matter how injured I am, I will always make sure you're okay."

"I'm not okay," she sobbed, collapsing in his arms. (Thankfully, she missed his bad shoulder).

Danny hugged her and kissed her head, running his fingers through her hair. He refrained from telling her things would be okay, because he didn't see how things could be okay. Instead he told her things like he loved her, and to let out the anger and devastation.

"Baby or no baby, Linda, I still love you. And I will always love you."

"I love you too, Danny. So, so much," she managed through the sobs.