Immediately, I open my mouth to say no. But what would be the harm in talking to someone? In sharing all of these recent fears? Though the monthly grief group is helpful, it’s not tailored to my grief. My mother just died, for God’s sake. And I haven’t even taken a couple of days to grieve her death properly. “Are you sure?”
She takes my hand. “Consider it done.”
“Thank you.” I clasp her palm in response and rock back and forth in the chair.
“There you are.” Jess enters the nursery.
“I’ll leave you to it.” Crystal releases my hand. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks.” I let out a sigh and adjust Jackson in my arms.
“Let’s go to my room so we don’t wake Baxter,” Jess whispers.
I replay the events in my head and wonder who else saw my little stunt at the pool. What must they all think of me? I carry Jackson to Jess’s bedroom and sit on the edge of her bed.
“Pills are in your bag. Do you need me to walk you home?”
“No, I’m good. I’m so sorry about this.”
“Stop apologizing. Stay here as long as you like, okay? I’ll just be downstairs.”
I nod in her direction and free my still damp breast to feed Jackson, who paws the bulging flesh with tiny palms. What a night. No, what a week. The incidents stack up until they lead me to one clear conclusion: I need help.
“Knock knock.” Officer Toby steps into the room and clears his throat, embarrassed. “Sorry, ma’am. Do you want me to come back?”
I grasp for the towel I left on the bed and drape it over my shoulder to shield Jackson. “It’s fine. Come in.” To lighten the mood, I smile. “Can’t seem to get rid of me, huh?”
He laughs. “Apparently not.”
“I’m fine.”
“Ma’am, I don’t mean to pry, but…”
“Rebecca.”
“Rebecca. You can understand my concern here. Three incidents in a couple of days.” He whistles. “Quite the week.”
I motion to my face. “Well, these incidents wouldn’t have happened if I could see.” I focus on Jackson, but inside, worry sounds like a siren.
“I asked around a little about you.” He hesitates. “You’ve been through quite the ordeal. I’m sure it’s difficult. Grief is long, isn’t that what they say?”
Thanks, Yoda. “Yes, it is,” I say instead. “It’s been a really tough year. Toughest year of my life.”
“The chief knew your mom. Nice lady.”
“She was. She grew up here.” Emotion lodges in my throat.
He steps forward and places a card in my hand. “If you need anything, please call me, day or night. I mean it. My offer still stands about the patrol cars outside. Might help you feel safe.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Do you need an escort home?”
I shake my head. “I just live down the street. I’m fine.”
“Have a good night, Rebecca.” The door clicks shut. I don’t tell him that having his card is pointless, though I can use Voice Dream, a software program that scans and reads the information, just like I do when I need to read food labels. I pocket the card, burp Jackson, and bring him to eye level. “Okay, little guy. Enough is enough. Mama needs to get her shit together before everyone thinks I’ve really lost it. Deal?” I gather his drenched diaper bag, my dress that’s now been shoved in a dry-cleaning bag, and carefully descend the stairs.
At the bottom, wild laughter and music drift from the other rooms. I imagine all of my neighbors out there, dressed up and tipsy. Now they have something exciting to discuss. They will run home to tell friends or partners about the blind woman who thought her child was drowning. There will be a story attached to this night, attached to me. I pause with my hand on the doorknob and finally open it. The air is still thick and muggy, even though it’s late.
I don’t want to go back to my house alone, but I don’t have a choice. I think of the sleeping pills in my bag. I could take them and actually get some sleep. It’s been so long since I’ve slept through a whole night. No matter how tired I am, I fidget mercilessly, my life playing out on a relentless loop. When I do sleep, it’s punctured by nightmares.
Get some sleep. Jess’s words beat out a sensible anthem in my head. My fingers itch to pop the pills, if only to experience temporary relief. But I don’t