Original
Maybe if I got paid to write then I would do it more often...and actually go back and revise. But I don't get paid, and I'm super lazy, so y'all are left with this. ;)
This is a revision of a story I turned in at the beginning of the semester. I wrote that version in two hours, and it definitely showed. So I changed some things.
My prof said this is solid work. I don't know what that means. Did he like it? I don't know. At least it's better than the first one.
EDIT: I feel terrible for forgetting to say that Jonelle was a big help with this. She made me think about what I was really trying to say. Thank you, Jonelly Belly! ;)
Feel free to read, if you wish.
The Man Without A Wife
Jason was uncomfortable. The pew he was sitting on had no cushion and no amount of readjusting his position seemed to help. The hot, sticky air pressed down on him, making it difficult to breathe. His brand new shoes pinched his feet. Worst of all was the man speaking. The Priest, dressed all in black except for the white collar around his neck, was supposed to be comforting, but Jason was sure that sometimes the man was speaking a foreign language, and how is that a comfort? He didn’t ever remember his childhood church preaching in - Latin, was it? - and he wasn’t sure what this guy was trying to do.
The pew squeaked loudly when he tried shifting positions. The stupid suit he was wearing wasn’t helping the fact that it was hot and he had to keep tugging at his tie in an attempt to cool off. He hated wearing ridiculous clothing, especially now. And his automatic reaction was to turn and complain to his wife doing this to him, but she didn’t dress him today nor was she even sitting next to him.
Instead, it was his sister. Sarah was sniffling and dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. She reminded him so much of their mother when she did that. Jason could remember the pair of them sitting in front of the TV, watching some cheesy, romantic chick-flick and crying through just about the whole thing. He and his dad used to laugh at them before they walked into the garage to do manly things, with cars and tools. His thoughts came back to his wife then as he remembered that soon after he and Lara got together, she made the pair a trio. At least once a week, the girls would get together to have a movie marathon. Jason was thankful for his mom and sister at the time because that meant he wouldn’t have to sit through an hour and a half of mushy stuff, but now he would sit through countless hours of mush if that meant he could have his wife back.
His arm automatically went around Sarah’s shoulders while he stared at the love of his life and let a few tears escape. He wasn’t big on crying in public, but these tears couldn’t be helped. She was lying in a casket - more of a glorified box, really - looking to the world as if she was sleeping.
Inexplicably, Jason smiled a little as it was completely obvious she wasn’t asleep because she had make-up on. Lara never went to bed with her make-up on. If she fell asleep on the couch and Jason picked her up to take her to their room, it would wake her up, and the first thing out of her mouth would be, “Did I take my make-up off?” She would know if he was lying. And even if he convinced her to make love with him before they actually got ready for bed, once they were done she would go through her nightly routine before she crawled back in with him: make-up off, teeth brushed and hair combed through.
Jason feared this thing would never be over. He hadn’t been to church since he was a teenager and his mom stopped making him go. And though the building he was in was nice, it made him uncomfortable. Like he felt guilty for not going to church in years. But he was more uncomfortable with the fact that he hated funerals. He had been to a few in the past, and was bored out of his mind, listening to people say how perfect the person in the box was. Sure he felt bad for the family who lost a loved one, but he didn’t know the deceased well enough to be really sad. Lara was the one who dragged him to those things. Of course, maybe it was the fact that he now knew the deceased better than anyone else in the room that was making him uneasy.
And he felt like he was going to be stuck in this room forever, listening to people talk about how unfair it is that the drunk driver who hit her is able to walk around, but she’s not. Jason didn’t ever want to think about the idiot who killed Lara again. There wasn’t anything he could do about it now. Nothing would bring her back.
And if they weren’t talking about that, they were blabbering on about how wonderful his wife was.
He couldn’t disagree with anything they said; she was amazing. But she wasn’t as perfect as her eulogizers were making her out to be.
She would always leave her shoes in the foyer so that when Jason got home from work he would trip over them. One would think he would remember to look before he walked in, but it always seemed to slip his mind. Or she would stare at the computer for hours at a time talking to people she would never see in person, but who knew her almost as well as he did. He couldn’t deny that they constantly made her laugh, but many times he wished it was he who put that smile on her face. When he voiced this to her, more than once, she would make fun of him and chuckle about his jealousy being completely ridiculous, then run off to the computer to tell her friends. Though, no matter how much her internet friends made her laugh, he couldn’t deny that she had a smile that was reserved only for him. A smile that could light up a room. A smile that would remind Jason how lucky he was to have someone as beautiful as Lara.
So maybe he couldn’t blame them for saying how she would constantly volunteer for charities and how she was just a genuine, caring person. It was hard not to like Lara. She could be feisty when she wanted to be, but things rarely made her mad that Jason felt like he was the only one who saw that side of her. One of her pet peeves was that the toothpaste not be squeezed from anywhere but the bottom of the tube and Jason had yet to follow that rule, and one day she just blew up at him. It was a silly thing to be mad about and he probably should’ve just fixed the damn thing, but it was toothpaste; who cares? He also shouldn’t have said that to her either, but Jason was pretty thick at times and he knew it.
Suddenly, he noticed that no one was talking anymore, and the rest of the congregation was standing up. He tried to think of what he was supposed to do now, but his mind was a little fuzzy. It must have shown on his face because his sister nudged his side and whispered, “It’s time to take her to the cemetery. But once everyone leaves, you’ll get a few minutes to spend with her if you want.”
Slowly, the congregation lined up to pay their last respects to Lara, the perfect wife. Jason knew there was no such thing as a perfect wife, but she was perfect for him and that’s all that mattered.
Hundreds of people seemed to come up to him to whisper words of condolences. Some he hadn’t seen in years and some were complete strangers. Jason was a nice guy, he got along with most people, but he could never admit to being a people-person. It took him awhile to warm up to someone. So he wasn’t exactly comfortable with so many people hugging and shaking his hands with tears in their eyes. Lara was always the one to get along with everyone. She had no problem mingling and being affectionate with random strangers, no matter where she was. Jason didn’t think he actually said a word to anyone, but he was pretty sure he nodded his acknowledgment.
Eventually, it was just him, his sister and her family left in the room. Sarah had a husband, an eight-year old boy, and a five-year old girl. Jason remembered Sarah telling him that the kids didn’t understand why their Auntie Lara wasn’t going to play with them anymore. Lara loved kids and longed to be a mother, but wasn’t able to have any. That might have been the most difficult day of their marriage when the doctors gave them the news that she wouldn’t be able to conceive. Adoption might have been an option one day, but now Jason would never know. So Lara put a lot of effort in making sure her niece and nephew knew she loved them. The kids would spend many weekends with Lara and Jason, and the kids would be spoiled crazy.
Watching the kids look at their aunt, Jason wondered if they would still want to come over. Lara was always the fun one. She would play games with them while he worked. Though most of the time, he would watch her and imagine her playing with their kids. She would have made a wonderful mom. His eyes watered at that thought.
“Come on, kids. It’s time to go,” Sarah told her family. She lightly touched his arm. “We’ll wait for you in the car.”
“Thanks,” he whispered while still looking at his wife.
He walked up to Lara’s still form and had the urge to caress her face. It wasn’t right. She was too hard, too waxy. This wasn’t his wife; it was just a shell of the silly, passionate and caring woman he loved. The tears flowed freely now. He whispered that he loved her over and over as he stroked her hair.
“You silly girl. What were you thinking? You can’t leave me all alone. I don’t know how to live without you,” Jason told her, wishing she would just wake up and tell him everything would be okay.
“I can’t cook. Hell, you know I can’t even do the laundry without screwing something up. Remember when I turned your favorite shirt pink?” He chuckled a watery chuckle. “Of course you do. You were mad for about a week,” he said sadly. “And you said that that was the last time I was allowed to do the laundry.” He stroked her waxy cheek, not caring that it wasn’t really his
wife.
“Sir?” The funeral director startled Jason. “Sir, it’s time to go.”
“Yes, of course.” He wiped his face with his sleeve. A part of him hoped that he could ruin the suit he was wearing so he would never have to put it on again.
Nobody said anything on the way to the cemetery. And the burial was especially hard on Jason.
As his wife was lowered into the ground, so was he. It had always been “Jason and Lara,” how was he supposed to be just “Jason?”
The wake at Sarah’s house wasn’t so bad. Jason knew just about everyone there, and after all the “I’m sorry’s,” he was getting along fine. He and his friends would share stories about how Lara would try to tell dirty jokes, but they were never really that funny - or dirty. She always tried to be one of the guys - who just happened to love chick-flicks. Lara didn’t have a problem with video games; she would even try her hand at the racing or music ones. And when it came to sports, she would sit right there with Jason and his friends cheering on her favorite team wearing the jersey of the cutest player.
Sarah drove Jason home that night. It was a quiet drive as Jason reflected on what was going to happen once he got home. Sarah had been staying with him the last few days, taking care of the funeral arrangements and making sure he ate.
“Do you want me to stay with you tonight?” Sarah asked him, as if reading his thoughts.
“No,” he said after a few moments. A part of him wanted to say yes, that he was scared to be alone, but he needed to get this over with.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. You’ve been neglecting your family. I know the kids miss you.”
“I’ll come by in the morning. We’ll have breakfast.” Jason knew she said that because he couldn’t cook worth a damn. He appreciated her being there, though.
“Sarah, I’ll be fine. I think I can manage a bowl of cereal in the morning.”
“OK. Maybe lunch then.”
“Maybe.”
“I love you, little brother,” she told him as he got out of the car.
“Love you too, sis.”
The house was eerily quiet. Normally, Lara would be home making dinner once he got in from work, and she would be singing to whatever playlist she had going.
And then all of a sudden, he couldn’t breathe. It was like a vacuum had sucked the air out of the room. He hurriedly tried to strip his clothes off, collapsing on the floor as he went. But he only got his jacket and tie off and the first few buttons of his shirt before he scooted to the wall for support. And then he let everything go. Gut-wrenching sobs escaped him.
He wasn’t sure how long he cried. It could have been minutes or possibly hours, but he didn’t care; just as long as this was it. Jason felt like that’s all he’d been doing the past few days.
Eventually he got the strength to carry himself to bed, only to stop at the door of the room.
Jason had slept on the couch for the past few days while his sister slept in the guest room. He saw her give him a pitying look, but she didn’t say anything. He was thankful for that.
But today he was so tired, his feet automatically took him to the bedroom. He internally argued with himself about whether to get into the bed or not. He could just sleep in the guest room from now on, but he knew Lara would think that was silly. So he stripped down to his boxers on his way to the bed that hadn’t been slept in for days.
He got under the covers and lay on his side facing Lara’s half of the bed. Jason stared at the pillow for so long that he didn’t fall asleep until he could see his wife’s face in front of him, smiling that smile that was especially reserved for him.
Jason was in his bathroom looking into the mirror. The glass was foggy from the steam of the shower and his hand paused on the mirror, refusing to wipe it off. The hesitation came from the fact that he wished he could clear the fog out of his brain at the same time he cleaned the mirror.
Slowly, realization hit that that might never happen, and a small section was wiped clean in two swipes.
Now that he could see, it seemed like an appropriate time to check his wrinkles. He had never really noticed before, but Jason was pretty sure that the amount had doubled in the last three weeks. That really wasn’t surprising since the last three weeks have practically been hell without Lara. Really, he was just glad that getting up in the morning had gotten easier. And even though he didn’t plan on doing anything today, Jason figured it was best to keep up the routine: wake up, stare at the ceiling for about ten to fifteen minutes, lift off the covers and finally step out of bed. He was working on the amount of time he stared at the ceiling, but mentally preparing himself for each day took time.
Jason could now go to sleep without seeing Lara’s face in bed next to him, and he thought that was a good start. So what was ten minutes thinking about his dead wife?
He was dressed in only a towel, and his drawers were suspiciously empty. He contemplated going into the closet, but it hadn’t been opened since before the funeral. The past few weeks, he would just stare at the door, hoping that when it opened, all her stuff would be gone.
Not that he wanted her gone, but it would be nice not to be reminded of her every time he walked in there. It’s not like he really had a reason to open the closet anyway. Only his good clothes were hanging in there and he hadn’t needed them. But he was pretty sure there were a few t-shirts and some shorts folded somewhere on a shelf.
So it came down to walking into the closet, or doing the laundry.
He had put off the laundry because he didn’t fancy ruining all of his clothes. Of course, he could always go buy new ones, Jason thought.
“Jason!” his sister called from the living room.
She brought him breakfast every Saturday - as well as dinner every night - before she took the kids to their soccer games since it was on the way. Jason used actually attend those games, but when Sarah asked him the first time after Lara died, he said it wouldn’t be the same if Lara wasn’t screaming at the other team for doing something bad every ten seconds.
“Hey, I brought you some breakfast tacos. It was my first time making them. They’re not bad,” she said as she came into the room and made his bed.
Jason leaned on to his dresser, faced his sister and crossed his arms. He watched her straighten the bed-clothes, open the curtains, and just tidy up his bedroom all while chatting about nothing. It took her about five minutes to actually look at him.
“What are you doing?” she finally asked when there was nothing left to clean. Jason hadn’t smiled much in the past three weeks, but he had to slightly smirk at his sister and how much she was just like his mom and wife put together. Mom would have talked the whole time, while Lara would have cleaned. He was grateful for her right now. No one else in his life would have been able to take care of him the way she did.
“Waiting for you to slow down.”
“Oh,” she smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, but I’m in a hurry. Mark got stuck going into the office for a few hours, and we aren’t even completely packed. But, of course, the kids would have a fit if they didn’t go to their games.”
“You’ll be gone a whole week, huh?” Sarah nodded, looking a little guilty. He knew she wanted him to go on a vacation with her and her family, but Jason felt like he would be imposing. And it just wouldn’t be the same without Lara. Maybe one day, but he just wasn't ready yet.
“You’ll have fun; the kids are going to love Disney World. And I’ll be fine. I promise.”
“Come with us, please.”
“Sarah, we’ve had this conversation. I’m not going. I have work to keep me busy. I can handle a week without my big sister. Just go. Have fun. Bring me back something.” He gave her as good a smile as he had. He wasn’t sure if it was convincing enough.
“Alright. Stay. But I put emergency numbers on your refrigerator if you need me.”
“Really? Emergency numbers? I’m a big boy, sis. I don’t need emergency numbers. What do you think is gonna happen in a week?”
“I don’t know. Nothing.” She shook her head in defeat and sighed.
“Look, I appreciate you trying to take care of me. But I think you can let go of my hand now. She’s gone, it sucks, but I’m dealing with it. But if you don’t let go, how will I ever learn to stay on my own two feet?”
“When did you get so metaphorical?” Sarah asked with watery eyes.
“Well, I do remember going to college. I might have learned something about it there.” Jason winked again.
“OK.” Sarah came to give him a hug. “Take care of yourself, little brother. And I’ll see you in a week.”
“You too. Have fun, and give the kids hugs from me.”
Jason watched his sister leave. He was suddenly aware that now he was truly alone. It’s not like he didn’t have friends, but they weren’t the kind of people to lend anyone their shoulder to cry on. He’d gone to play poker with them the other night. It was a nice change, but the guys weren’t too sure how to act around Jason. And he appreciated their effort of trying to be normal.
And he was glad that nobody expected him to be back to normal yet. Jason doubted he knew what normal was after losing Lara. But he was determined to be a different person once Lara came home. He would work more, and brood less. He had been working mostly from home lately, and could mope around the house. The luxury of owning a business is setting the rules and changing them as you please. But maybe he’ll go to the office a couple times in the next week.
But first he decided he had to do his laundry.
Jason couldn’t even remember the last time he had walked into the laundry room. Ever since he ruined Lara’s shirt, she wouldn’t allow him in there. But he did remember that after that incident, Lara insisted on buying new machines. She claimed that if Jason was to wash again - though she was determined to never let that happen - it would be with machines that a six-year old could figure out.
So he grabbed his overflowing hamper from the bathroom and headed to the small room that smelled of Lara’s favorite detergent.
Then, without notice, he started crying again. It only lasted for a few moments, but Jason couldn’t help it. This was the reason he hadn’t walked into the closet; he didn’t want to smell her. After the first few nights of sleeping in their bed alone, he decided to change the sheets to get rid of her scent.
He scolded himself for getting so emotional over laundry detergent. He was sure Lara would laugh at him for being overly sentimental, and that thought comforted him. Jason tried to picture her staring at him doubtfully, like she knew he wouldn’t be able to do this, and then chuckling when his stubborn side kicked in and set himself to do it.
So he wiped his tears and set to work, meticulously separating clothes by color. He ended up with about ten different piles, some just different shades of the same color, but he didn’t want to take any chances.
And the new machines turned out to be easier than he thought. A six-year old really could figure it out. There was a power button, a knob that was automatically set to normal wash, and then a play button. A play button. Jason was sure the makers of these machines were thinking of him when they made these. Or maybe Lara had them specially designed, he thought. Either way, he was glad for it.
In the end, nothing came out the wrong color, and everything looked like it was the right size. He was proud of himself, and he was sure Lara would be proud too.
And since he was making so much progress, he figured that now was a good as time as any to perhaps open the closet. The thought came to him suddenly, but he welcomed it.
So after all his clothes were put away, very neatly so as to prolong the inevitable of opening the door, Jason sat in front of the closet, just staring. It was probably hours before he moved, and he had gone back and forth in his mind about whether to open it or not. But he finally decided. And then he got up, walked to the door, and turned the knob.
This is a revision of a story I turned in at the beginning of the semester. I wrote that version in two hours, and it definitely showed. So I changed some things.
My prof said this is solid work. I don't know what that means. Did he like it? I don't know. At least it's better than the first one.
EDIT: I feel terrible for forgetting to say that Jonelle was a big help with this. She made me think about what I was really trying to say. Thank you, Jonelly Belly! ;)
Feel free to read, if you wish.
The Man Without A Wife
Jason was uncomfortable. The pew he was sitting on had no cushion and no amount of readjusting his position seemed to help. The hot, sticky air pressed down on him, making it difficult to breathe. His brand new shoes pinched his feet. Worst of all was the man speaking. The Priest, dressed all in black except for the white collar around his neck, was supposed to be comforting, but Jason was sure that sometimes the man was speaking a foreign language, and how is that a comfort? He didn’t ever remember his childhood church preaching in - Latin, was it? - and he wasn’t sure what this guy was trying to do.
The pew squeaked loudly when he tried shifting positions. The stupid suit he was wearing wasn’t helping the fact that it was hot and he had to keep tugging at his tie in an attempt to cool off. He hated wearing ridiculous clothing, especially now. And his automatic reaction was to turn and complain to his wife doing this to him, but she didn’t dress him today nor was she even sitting next to him.
Instead, it was his sister. Sarah was sniffling and dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. She reminded him so much of their mother when she did that. Jason could remember the pair of them sitting in front of the TV, watching some cheesy, romantic chick-flick and crying through just about the whole thing. He and his dad used to laugh at them before they walked into the garage to do manly things, with cars and tools. His thoughts came back to his wife then as he remembered that soon after he and Lara got together, she made the pair a trio. At least once a week, the girls would get together to have a movie marathon. Jason was thankful for his mom and sister at the time because that meant he wouldn’t have to sit through an hour and a half of mushy stuff, but now he would sit through countless hours of mush if that meant he could have his wife back.
His arm automatically went around Sarah’s shoulders while he stared at the love of his life and let a few tears escape. He wasn’t big on crying in public, but these tears couldn’t be helped. She was lying in a casket - more of a glorified box, really - looking to the world as if she was sleeping.
Inexplicably, Jason smiled a little as it was completely obvious she wasn’t asleep because she had make-up on. Lara never went to bed with her make-up on. If she fell asleep on the couch and Jason picked her up to take her to their room, it would wake her up, and the first thing out of her mouth would be, “Did I take my make-up off?” She would know if he was lying. And even if he convinced her to make love with him before they actually got ready for bed, once they were done she would go through her nightly routine before she crawled back in with him: make-up off, teeth brushed and hair combed through.
Jason feared this thing would never be over. He hadn’t been to church since he was a teenager and his mom stopped making him go. And though the building he was in was nice, it made him uncomfortable. Like he felt guilty for not going to church in years. But he was more uncomfortable with the fact that he hated funerals. He had been to a few in the past, and was bored out of his mind, listening to people say how perfect the person in the box was. Sure he felt bad for the family who lost a loved one, but he didn’t know the deceased well enough to be really sad. Lara was the one who dragged him to those things. Of course, maybe it was the fact that he now knew the deceased better than anyone else in the room that was making him uneasy.
And he felt like he was going to be stuck in this room forever, listening to people talk about how unfair it is that the drunk driver who hit her is able to walk around, but she’s not. Jason didn’t ever want to think about the idiot who killed Lara again. There wasn’t anything he could do about it now. Nothing would bring her back.
And if they weren’t talking about that, they were blabbering on about how wonderful his wife was.
He couldn’t disagree with anything they said; she was amazing. But she wasn’t as perfect as her eulogizers were making her out to be.
She would always leave her shoes in the foyer so that when Jason got home from work he would trip over them. One would think he would remember to look before he walked in, but it always seemed to slip his mind. Or she would stare at the computer for hours at a time talking to people she would never see in person, but who knew her almost as well as he did. He couldn’t deny that they constantly made her laugh, but many times he wished it was he who put that smile on her face. When he voiced this to her, more than once, she would make fun of him and chuckle about his jealousy being completely ridiculous, then run off to the computer to tell her friends. Though, no matter how much her internet friends made her laugh, he couldn’t deny that she had a smile that was reserved only for him. A smile that could light up a room. A smile that would remind Jason how lucky he was to have someone as beautiful as Lara.
So maybe he couldn’t blame them for saying how she would constantly volunteer for charities and how she was just a genuine, caring person. It was hard not to like Lara. She could be feisty when she wanted to be, but things rarely made her mad that Jason felt like he was the only one who saw that side of her. One of her pet peeves was that the toothpaste not be squeezed from anywhere but the bottom of the tube and Jason had yet to follow that rule, and one day she just blew up at him. It was a silly thing to be mad about and he probably should’ve just fixed the damn thing, but it was toothpaste; who cares? He also shouldn’t have said that to her either, but Jason was pretty thick at times and he knew it.
Suddenly, he noticed that no one was talking anymore, and the rest of the congregation was standing up. He tried to think of what he was supposed to do now, but his mind was a little fuzzy. It must have shown on his face because his sister nudged his side and whispered, “It’s time to take her to the cemetery. But once everyone leaves, you’ll get a few minutes to spend with her if you want.”
Slowly, the congregation lined up to pay their last respects to Lara, the perfect wife. Jason knew there was no such thing as a perfect wife, but she was perfect for him and that’s all that mattered.
Hundreds of people seemed to come up to him to whisper words of condolences. Some he hadn’t seen in years and some were complete strangers. Jason was a nice guy, he got along with most people, but he could never admit to being a people-person. It took him awhile to warm up to someone. So he wasn’t exactly comfortable with so many people hugging and shaking his hands with tears in their eyes. Lara was always the one to get along with everyone. She had no problem mingling and being affectionate with random strangers, no matter where she was. Jason didn’t think he actually said a word to anyone, but he was pretty sure he nodded his acknowledgment.
Eventually, it was just him, his sister and her family left in the room. Sarah had a husband, an eight-year old boy, and a five-year old girl. Jason remembered Sarah telling him that the kids didn’t understand why their Auntie Lara wasn’t going to play with them anymore. Lara loved kids and longed to be a mother, but wasn’t able to have any. That might have been the most difficult day of their marriage when the doctors gave them the news that she wouldn’t be able to conceive. Adoption might have been an option one day, but now Jason would never know. So Lara put a lot of effort in making sure her niece and nephew knew she loved them. The kids would spend many weekends with Lara and Jason, and the kids would be spoiled crazy.
Watching the kids look at their aunt, Jason wondered if they would still want to come over. Lara was always the fun one. She would play games with them while he worked. Though most of the time, he would watch her and imagine her playing with their kids. She would have made a wonderful mom. His eyes watered at that thought.
“Come on, kids. It’s time to go,” Sarah told her family. She lightly touched his arm. “We’ll wait for you in the car.”
“Thanks,” he whispered while still looking at his wife.
He walked up to Lara’s still form and had the urge to caress her face. It wasn’t right. She was too hard, too waxy. This wasn’t his wife; it was just a shell of the silly, passionate and caring woman he loved. The tears flowed freely now. He whispered that he loved her over and over as he stroked her hair.
“You silly girl. What were you thinking? You can’t leave me all alone. I don’t know how to live without you,” Jason told her, wishing she would just wake up and tell him everything would be okay.
“I can’t cook. Hell, you know I can’t even do the laundry without screwing something up. Remember when I turned your favorite shirt pink?” He chuckled a watery chuckle. “Of course you do. You were mad for about a week,” he said sadly. “And you said that that was the last time I was allowed to do the laundry.” He stroked her waxy cheek, not caring that it wasn’t really his
wife.
“Sir?” The funeral director startled Jason. “Sir, it’s time to go.”
“Yes, of course.” He wiped his face with his sleeve. A part of him hoped that he could ruin the suit he was wearing so he would never have to put it on again.
Nobody said anything on the way to the cemetery. And the burial was especially hard on Jason.
As his wife was lowered into the ground, so was he. It had always been “Jason and Lara,” how was he supposed to be just “Jason?”
The wake at Sarah’s house wasn’t so bad. Jason knew just about everyone there, and after all the “I’m sorry’s,” he was getting along fine. He and his friends would share stories about how Lara would try to tell dirty jokes, but they were never really that funny - or dirty. She always tried to be one of the guys - who just happened to love chick-flicks. Lara didn’t have a problem with video games; she would even try her hand at the racing or music ones. And when it came to sports, she would sit right there with Jason and his friends cheering on her favorite team wearing the jersey of the cutest player.
Sarah drove Jason home that night. It was a quiet drive as Jason reflected on what was going to happen once he got home. Sarah had been staying with him the last few days, taking care of the funeral arrangements and making sure he ate.
“Do you want me to stay with you tonight?” Sarah asked him, as if reading his thoughts.
“No,” he said after a few moments. A part of him wanted to say yes, that he was scared to be alone, but he needed to get this over with.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. You’ve been neglecting your family. I know the kids miss you.”
“I’ll come by in the morning. We’ll have breakfast.” Jason knew she said that because he couldn’t cook worth a damn. He appreciated her being there, though.
“Sarah, I’ll be fine. I think I can manage a bowl of cereal in the morning.”
“OK. Maybe lunch then.”
“Maybe.”
“I love you, little brother,” she told him as he got out of the car.
“Love you too, sis.”
The house was eerily quiet. Normally, Lara would be home making dinner once he got in from work, and she would be singing to whatever playlist she had going.
And then all of a sudden, he couldn’t breathe. It was like a vacuum had sucked the air out of the room. He hurriedly tried to strip his clothes off, collapsing on the floor as he went. But he only got his jacket and tie off and the first few buttons of his shirt before he scooted to the wall for support. And then he let everything go. Gut-wrenching sobs escaped him.
He wasn’t sure how long he cried. It could have been minutes or possibly hours, but he didn’t care; just as long as this was it. Jason felt like that’s all he’d been doing the past few days.
Eventually he got the strength to carry himself to bed, only to stop at the door of the room.
Jason had slept on the couch for the past few days while his sister slept in the guest room. He saw her give him a pitying look, but she didn’t say anything. He was thankful for that.
But today he was so tired, his feet automatically took him to the bedroom. He internally argued with himself about whether to get into the bed or not. He could just sleep in the guest room from now on, but he knew Lara would think that was silly. So he stripped down to his boxers on his way to the bed that hadn’t been slept in for days.
He got under the covers and lay on his side facing Lara’s half of the bed. Jason stared at the pillow for so long that he didn’t fall asleep until he could see his wife’s face in front of him, smiling that smile that was especially reserved for him.
Jason was in his bathroom looking into the mirror. The glass was foggy from the steam of the shower and his hand paused on the mirror, refusing to wipe it off. The hesitation came from the fact that he wished he could clear the fog out of his brain at the same time he cleaned the mirror.
Slowly, realization hit that that might never happen, and a small section was wiped clean in two swipes.
Now that he could see, it seemed like an appropriate time to check his wrinkles. He had never really noticed before, but Jason was pretty sure that the amount had doubled in the last three weeks. That really wasn’t surprising since the last three weeks have practically been hell without Lara. Really, he was just glad that getting up in the morning had gotten easier. And even though he didn’t plan on doing anything today, Jason figured it was best to keep up the routine: wake up, stare at the ceiling for about ten to fifteen minutes, lift off the covers and finally step out of bed. He was working on the amount of time he stared at the ceiling, but mentally preparing himself for each day took time.
Jason could now go to sleep without seeing Lara’s face in bed next to him, and he thought that was a good start. So what was ten minutes thinking about his dead wife?
He was dressed in only a towel, and his drawers were suspiciously empty. He contemplated going into the closet, but it hadn’t been opened since before the funeral. The past few weeks, he would just stare at the door, hoping that when it opened, all her stuff would be gone.
Not that he wanted her gone, but it would be nice not to be reminded of her every time he walked in there. It’s not like he really had a reason to open the closet anyway. Only his good clothes were hanging in there and he hadn’t needed them. But he was pretty sure there were a few t-shirts and some shorts folded somewhere on a shelf.
So it came down to walking into the closet, or doing the laundry.
He had put off the laundry because he didn’t fancy ruining all of his clothes. Of course, he could always go buy new ones, Jason thought.
“Jason!” his sister called from the living room.
She brought him breakfast every Saturday - as well as dinner every night - before she took the kids to their soccer games since it was on the way. Jason used actually attend those games, but when Sarah asked him the first time after Lara died, he said it wouldn’t be the same if Lara wasn’t screaming at the other team for doing something bad every ten seconds.
“Hey, I brought you some breakfast tacos. It was my first time making them. They’re not bad,” she said as she came into the room and made his bed.
Jason leaned on to his dresser, faced his sister and crossed his arms. He watched her straighten the bed-clothes, open the curtains, and just tidy up his bedroom all while chatting about nothing. It took her about five minutes to actually look at him.
“What are you doing?” she finally asked when there was nothing left to clean. Jason hadn’t smiled much in the past three weeks, but he had to slightly smirk at his sister and how much she was just like his mom and wife put together. Mom would have talked the whole time, while Lara would have cleaned. He was grateful for her right now. No one else in his life would have been able to take care of him the way she did.
“Waiting for you to slow down.”
“Oh,” she smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, but I’m in a hurry. Mark got stuck going into the office for a few hours, and we aren’t even completely packed. But, of course, the kids would have a fit if they didn’t go to their games.”
“You’ll be gone a whole week, huh?” Sarah nodded, looking a little guilty. He knew she wanted him to go on a vacation with her and her family, but Jason felt like he would be imposing. And it just wouldn’t be the same without Lara. Maybe one day, but he just wasn't ready yet.
“You’ll have fun; the kids are going to love Disney World. And I’ll be fine. I promise.”
“Come with us, please.”
“Sarah, we’ve had this conversation. I’m not going. I have work to keep me busy. I can handle a week without my big sister. Just go. Have fun. Bring me back something.” He gave her as good a smile as he had. He wasn’t sure if it was convincing enough.
“Alright. Stay. But I put emergency numbers on your refrigerator if you need me.”
“Really? Emergency numbers? I’m a big boy, sis. I don’t need emergency numbers. What do you think is gonna happen in a week?”
“I don’t know. Nothing.” She shook her head in defeat and sighed.
“Look, I appreciate you trying to take care of me. But I think you can let go of my hand now. She’s gone, it sucks, but I’m dealing with it. But if you don’t let go, how will I ever learn to stay on my own two feet?”
“When did you get so metaphorical?” Sarah asked with watery eyes.
“Well, I do remember going to college. I might have learned something about it there.” Jason winked again.
“OK.” Sarah came to give him a hug. “Take care of yourself, little brother. And I’ll see you in a week.”
“You too. Have fun, and give the kids hugs from me.”
Jason watched his sister leave. He was suddenly aware that now he was truly alone. It’s not like he didn’t have friends, but they weren’t the kind of people to lend anyone their shoulder to cry on. He’d gone to play poker with them the other night. It was a nice change, but the guys weren’t too sure how to act around Jason. And he appreciated their effort of trying to be normal.
And he was glad that nobody expected him to be back to normal yet. Jason doubted he knew what normal was after losing Lara. But he was determined to be a different person once Lara came home. He would work more, and brood less. He had been working mostly from home lately, and could mope around the house. The luxury of owning a business is setting the rules and changing them as you please. But maybe he’ll go to the office a couple times in the next week.
But first he decided he had to do his laundry.
Jason couldn’t even remember the last time he had walked into the laundry room. Ever since he ruined Lara’s shirt, she wouldn’t allow him in there. But he did remember that after that incident, Lara insisted on buying new machines. She claimed that if Jason was to wash again - though she was determined to never let that happen - it would be with machines that a six-year old could figure out.
So he grabbed his overflowing hamper from the bathroom and headed to the small room that smelled of Lara’s favorite detergent.
Then, without notice, he started crying again. It only lasted for a few moments, but Jason couldn’t help it. This was the reason he hadn’t walked into the closet; he didn’t want to smell her. After the first few nights of sleeping in their bed alone, he decided to change the sheets to get rid of her scent.
He scolded himself for getting so emotional over laundry detergent. He was sure Lara would laugh at him for being overly sentimental, and that thought comforted him. Jason tried to picture her staring at him doubtfully, like she knew he wouldn’t be able to do this, and then chuckling when his stubborn side kicked in and set himself to do it.
So he wiped his tears and set to work, meticulously separating clothes by color. He ended up with about ten different piles, some just different shades of the same color, but he didn’t want to take any chances.
And the new machines turned out to be easier than he thought. A six-year old really could figure it out. There was a power button, a knob that was automatically set to normal wash, and then a play button. A play button. Jason was sure the makers of these machines were thinking of him when they made these. Or maybe Lara had them specially designed, he thought. Either way, he was glad for it.
In the end, nothing came out the wrong color, and everything looked like it was the right size. He was proud of himself, and he was sure Lara would be proud too.
And since he was making so much progress, he figured that now was a good as time as any to perhaps open the closet. The thought came to him suddenly, but he welcomed it.
So after all his clothes were put away, very neatly so as to prolong the inevitable of opening the door, Jason sat in front of the closet, just staring. It was probably hours before he moved, and he had gone back and forth in his mind about whether to open it or not. But he finally decided. And then he got up, walked to the door, and turned the knob.