Jason's POV
All my life I've been told that crying wasn't manly, and wasn't okay for men to do, but it didn't matter at this point. I stared at the wall of my- our -room: a room we'd share for holidays, and vacations to my parents. It was dark, and gloomy. I frowned heavily. I'd decided not to kill myself, but I still needed to be held together. Losing a job, I could take, losing my house, I could take, but losing her was the end.
No job, no home, and no wife. I was done for.
We've been stationed at my parents house for a about 4 weeks. What started as a vacation ended up being the final moments as a family. I'd lost my job because I spent all my time at the hospital. The trip was supposed to be over the day before it happened- before she was hit from the side; her car was nothing but a hunk of metal after the accident. The 6 days of her being hospitalized gave me some hope, but there was still no saving her. She was dead.
"Jason, Honey," Called my mother, Debie. After I didn't respond, she sighed, and moved over toward me. "You can't stay this way... I know you miss and loved her...but..." I just looked at her. What was I going to say? Everything that came to mind would either piss her off, or make her cry for me, two things I wanted to avoid. I stayed silent instead of broadcasting my hopelessness.
She rose from the chair she sat in and snapped the light on. I crunched my eyes up, blinded by the light.
"Get up." She commanded. I turned my head away from her.
"Get! Up!" She said, louder this time. "Get up?" It was a plea. "You have a son." I looked at her then. Her eyes filled with sadness, and desperation.
I sat up without thinking. She was right. "I'm here for you, Honey. Jenny's here. Jackson's here..." Jackson was my father: a selfish man who wasn't there for anybody.
"Emma's funeral is today." How could I forget? I tried to say something, but it sounded like noise instead of words. I rose from the bed, and walked to the closet, peaking in. Her cloths were still here. Her make-up, her scent, her voice...
I could hear her now, "Hurry and get dressed! We're gonna be late for mass!"
A whale of a noise left me and I held on to the wall for support. I pulled myself up before mom could come to rescue me. Walking to my side of the closet, I held my breath and grabbed my suit as quickly as I could.
I threw it on quickly, ignoring my mothers presence. She gave birth to me, so seeing me in the nude isn't a big deal. After I got dressed I turned to the body mirror on the door and fixed my clip-on tie. I jetted out the door, running away from the light. I slowed my run into a walk, and as I turned into the living room, my little sister, Jenny, embraced me. I made no effort to respond with the same support. It's not as if she'd needed it.
Almost everyone in my family had some disliking to Emma. Rather it was because she had a dominant personality, or because of her beauty, they disliked her. I didn't understand, and she didn't care. She still insisted that we go to my parents house at least once a year.
"Mom gotcha out, eh?" Jenny moved to Texas as soon as she graduated high school. She wanted to pursue a dream of farming, an odd dream to want. She smiled at my still unchanged face, mostly out of optimism than happiness.
She dragged me towards the counter and sat me down. I was a lump.
"Hi." My usually quiet dad mumbled. I don't expect him to sympathetic or loving, or supportive. I hardly expected him to be here. Little Jake tumbled in holding his stuffed bear, named Teddy, and handed it to me. I took it and hugged it. It was like a morning ritual. You had to hug Teddy, or Jake would give you the stink eye.
I handed Teddy back to him and he smiled. "You ready too daddy?" He asked. I nodded, swallowing hard.
