Learning to Live, Again

Chapter Ten

Caleb's POV

We held the memorial at... the house. Niamh's house. Or rather, her.. old house. I stood in the kitchen, dressed in my only good suit, drinking some cinnamon whiskey. It wasn't enough to get me drunk; not yet anyway. I was waiting until later, after Beth took the boys for the night and everyone was gone. 

People milled around the house, each with their own cup of water. Some even had plates and had the audacity to be eating. Beth had made a lot of snacks and the entire kitchen table and every counter was filled with food. I guess it was their way of coping. It was better than my way I suppose.

Heath ran around with the other little kids, giggling away like nothing was wrong with the world. I wanted to tell him what was wrong, but I couldn't. He wouldn't understand, believe me, I tried. After Dean's little meltdown the other day, I had sat him down and explained to him what had happened. I didn't want to tell him everything, but he was so damn persistent I couldn't leave anything out. He'd gone back to being silent, and currently he was hiding in his room, staring at the teddy bear she'd given him when he was in the hospital.

I swallowed another mouthful of whiskey, and had to cough. It was so silent in the house that everyone jumped, turning to me with surprise. After a few moments, they all went back to their silent conversations, leaving me to burn my throat by myself. 

I hated things like this. It was always the same. "I'm sorry for your loss." "He/She was a great person." "How are you doing?" That was my favorite. "How are you doing?" How do you think I'm doing?  I just lost someone. Do you really think I'm rainbows and fucking unicorns? I mean, are you serious? I'm having trouble breathing. It feels like my heart has been ripped out of my chest, and like my stomach is filled with angry hornets trying to rip me apart from the inside out. I can barely stand here talking to you, let alone pretend that everything is fine.

It doesn't matter that I knew Niamh for such a short amount of time. In that short amount of time, she made herself part of my world, my life. It hurt for me to think about her and our time together. She made me smile; she made me laugh. Niamh made me feel like I wasn't just some stupid twenty-eight year old working in the police force hoping I'm doing something good. Taking care of her when she was hurt, helping her with her case told me I was doing good. Her smile made me know I was doing something worth while. Her not being here was crushing me. 

"Want some more?" Catherine stood beside me, not looking at me as she casually lifted a metal flask out of her purse.

I laughed, setting my cup down. "My kids are going to be gone tonight, what's your excuse?"

Catherine laughed, setting in back in her purse. "I'm not drinking, but I could smell your alcohol from the living room." I blushed, and she continued to smile at me.

"What?"

"You said, 'My kids.'"

I suddenly got uncomfortable, shifting between my feet. "Yea? So?"

Catherine shrugged, setting her head on my shoulder. "Nothing. I just think it's good for you. They're good for you. I know how devastated you were when Jackie died. It'll be good for you to have those boys. Dorothy is the only reason I got through it." I gave her a, "Mmhmm," look and she rolled her eyes. "Okay, and your mother constantly trying to feed me food. People were amazed I gained weight until I mentioned your mother's name."

I nodded. "Yea, my mother's good at feeding people."

Catherine looked around. "Is she here?"

I shook my head. "No, she's not feeling too well right now. She wanted to come, but I told her to stay home and recover." 

"That was nice of you. I'm sorry to do this, but I've got somewhere to be. Will you watch Dorothy tonight?"

I chewed my cheek, slightly annoyed. There went my plan to get drunk. "Sure, no problem." 

She smiled, and I knew she knew what she was doing. "Good." She gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be back tomorrow for her. Love you."

She walked away, and I dumped the rest of my drink down the drain. "No more tonight," I said to myself.