COVERING UP THE PAIN -Short Fiction

You might say I lost my mind the day my toddler died. I loved Trenton more than anything in this world, even more than my husband Peter, but don't tell Peter that.

Trenton completed me.

I spent my childhood days lugging around dolls and dreaming of motherhood. I took a babysitting course at twelve years old to babysit all the neighborhood kids. I LOVED KIDS!

"You are so good with kids, Tina," everyone told me.

I was.

Peter took his time coming into my life.

"What is my future husband doing?" I complained to my sorority sisters, tapping my acrylic nails on the kitchen table. Piles of school papers climbed to the ceiling. I took a picture of myself in front of my never-ending homework to post on social media.

"I don't want to be a student. I need to be a wife. -a mother."

"You don't need a husband. Enjoy University. It will never be this wonderful again." My sorority sisters constantly reminded me.

I didn't believe them. What did they know of my desires and destiny?

I grabbed a handful of papers, tossed them into the air, and watched them flitter down to the floor. "Homework. Cramming. This is your idea of wonderful?"

I did enjoy university but couldn't fill my empty pit. A hollowness grew larger and wider that only my future husband and kids would fill.

I searched for him. Every man I met represented a potential husband. But Peter, he took his time searching for me.

Four years cruised, and I had a degree in accounting before I had a husband. I hadn't meant to get a career. Honestly, I had gone to school to snag a husband.

To my delight, the most incredible thing happened that summer. Amidst the agony of readying for my master's studies, Peter showed up.

We fell in love.

"I am not ready for marriage," he often told me.

"What are you waiting for? Someone better to come along?" I jabbed him in the ribs.

"Marriage is so…so binding."

His words hurt. "Don't you want to be with me forever?"

His dashing smile warmed my heart. "Of course."

"Then, stop messing around. Let's get married."

A year later, I could no longer wait on Peter.

"Yes, you are perfect. But I need to start my family. Marry me, or we are done."

We got married in July, and I was pregnant by August.

"Why do you take so many pictures of your belly," Peter asked as we strolled along the pier.

"I gotta document every moment of this journey."

Peter shook his head as he licked his ice cream cone.

My mouth begged for another ice cream. After all, I ate for two.

"I just don't know if I am ready to be a dad." Peter frowned and looked over the ocean as the waves lapped against the sun.

"Oh well," I said. I didn't care about what he wanted. This was my life plan. He would learn to adjust.

"I think you are foolish to drop your master's program." Peter shoved the last of his cone into his mouth. Dribbles of ice cream slid down his chin.

But it didn't go as I had dreamed. My pregnancy terminated during the 12th week. And like that, I was no longer a mother in the making.

The darkness, the horror, the pain. No one should ever lose a baby. You wish to know what that baby would have looked like. You long to hold and cuddle a living body. Maybe the baby should have at least died at birth. Then you could kiss it and know its gender. I didn't want a D&C, a brutal process where they removed your dead child.

Peter pulled me from the floor. I could hardly stand as the labor pains doubled me over again. "Tina, please let me take you to the hospital. I can't stand to see you in so much pain."

Against my inner desires to deliver the baby, see its gender, and hold it, I allowed the doctors to violently rip it out of my body.

"I need to get pregnant now!" I growled at the doctor a week after the D&C.

"Your body needs to rest."

I felt the hot tears rush into my eyes. My baby wasn't supposed to die. I could only erase the pain by getting pregnant again.

"How long must I wait?"

"Three months."

I picked at my salmon-colored nails, coming close to ruining my manicure. That is how upset I was.

We fell into a horrific cycle of hell. I got pregnant, lost the baby always at 12 weeks, then waited three months to try again. Three years of this slammed our marriage on the rocks.

"Tina, I can't do this anymore," Peter said.

I knew he was right, but to agree with him would end my dream of being a mother.

"There are other options."

"I know. I realize we can adopt. But I so wanted a mini-us. I want a baby that looks like you. I want to see me in our daughter's stubbornness. I won't get that if we adopt."

On my last miscarriage, without my consent, the hospital allowed a student to do my D&C. He had botched it up so badly that they had to remove my uterus.

The loss of my uterus solidified I would never give birth to a baby.

With nothing more to do, I continued my education and progressed to a Ph.D. in accounting.

I bawled at my graduation.

"I never wanted this," I sobbed into Peter's arm. "I was meant to be a mother, not an accountant."

"I know, I know," he said, rubbing my head.

But did he know? I doubted it. He didn't experience the dark abyss that filled my soul. When they stole my uterus, they took any dream I had of having my own child. Adoption was still an option, but I wasn't ready for that. I couldn't cope with the loss of natural motherhood. I needed a baby in my belly that I could feel and watch move. I never got to feel life with all my failed pregnancies. I wanted the pain of delivery. I hoped to watch my child grow strong off my milk. I couldn't let that go.

Then a miracle happened when I was shopping with my childhood best friend.

"This looks like a good spot," I said, with Angie and me turning around. Angie knew what I wanted. It was selfie time. We both posed, I snapped, and we continued walking.

"Why are you so quiet?" I asked Angie after it felt like I had spent the last two hours doing all of the talking.

"I…Well, I have a significant gift to give you, but I am unsure how to present it."

I tapped my nails together in anticipation. "I love gifts!"

"Please, if my gift offends, don't be mad at me. I am just trying to help."

Angie, my eternal best friend. We met in kindergarten and have been significant players in each other's lives ever since.

"I promise."

Angie pulled a little jewelry box out of her pocket.

"Are you going to propose to me? You know I am married."

"Duh, I was your maid of honor."

"You want me to leave Peter and run away with you."

"Tina, I am trying to be serious here. What I have to offer you is of grave importance."

Angie's tight lips had chased her spunk away. My stomach hardened, and I feared the gift. What if she was moving across the country?

I took the box and opened it. I pulled out a precious bracelet made of pearls. But the bracelet was so tiny that it would only fit a newborn's wrist.

"What is this about?" My nails scooped out the bracelet, and I looked at it as something to remind me of the mother I never became.

"I want to be a surrogate mother for you."

"What?" I asked. The bracelet slipped out of my hands onto the path. I didn't know what her bizarre comment meant.

"I want you and Peter to go to a fertility doctor. You still have your ovaries. The doctor can combine your eggs and Peter's sperm. Then, they will insert them in me, and I can carry your child to full term and birth."

Her words felt like a sonic boom had cruised out of the sky and smacked me to the ground. My face pressed against the hot cement as I tried to stand up. Angie pulled me up. The lump in my stomach turned to pain.

Angie wiped the little pebbles off my shirt. "Oh, I am sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

Tears rushed out of my eyes. "I am not offended. I am touched. Why would you do this for me?"

Angie joined me in tears. "Because I love you."

"I love you too."

Eighteen months later, Angie birthed the most beautiful child ever. I wondered if my son would look like Peter and me or if he would come out with Angie's dark skin. I had a Ph.D., so I wasn't stupid, but the process still seemed unreal to me.

Trenton was born. I loved that baby more than anything in the world. I had waited almost ten years for him to join our family. He was my world. I immediately quit work and was the world's greatest stay-home-mom. I devoted every minute of my life to that boy. We went to the zoo weekly, museums, parks, and playdates. I taught him to read before he was two years old.

I LOVED TRENTON.

But the cruel fates of life took Trenton from me. I had been so careful of whom I had baby set him. I believed that no one could keep him safe but me.

Peter had a promotion dinner at work and needed me by his side.

"I can't leave Trenton," I said. "Can't I just take him?"

"This is a tux event. -no children. Surely someone can tend him."

"No. Mom and Dad are on a cruise. Angie is sick. I have no one."

"Bret from work said his wife could watch Trenton that night if we needed."

"What if she hurts him?"

"Tina, seriously. They are raising two kids. They know what they are doing. They won't hurt Trenton."

So, against every horrible fear in my gut, I left my precious, cherub, three-year-old angel with that horrific family.

When we arrived to pick up Trenton at 11:00 pm, I no longer had a son. Bret's wife had put Trenton to sleep in her room at 8 pm. She had checked on him at 8:30 pm and found him asleep.

I tiptoed to the bedroom to get my son but found him tangled in the chord of their curtains. It was too late.

"Why didn't you check on him," I had screamed as Peter dragged me out of their house. "You murdered my son! You murdered my son!"

The family huddled together. Their children, ten and eight, bawled at my hysteria. I had gone mad, and eventually, the paramedics dragged me to a psych unit.

Trenton was my life and my only chance at motherhood. I had gone through hell to get him, and he was taken from me like that.

It took over a year of intense therapy to get where I could function in daily life. Finally, I returned to work. A career woman. As if I had never been a mother.

That hurt.

On the second anniversary of Trenton's death, I spent the day alone at his favorite park. I had taken a notebook and drew the playground with colored pencils, drawing Trenton on the slide at what I thought he might look like at five years old. I had been there about three hours when a mother showed up with her son.

I stopped breathing.

He looked exactly how I had imagined Trenton would look. The lady played on the playground equipment with her son. I could feel the love between them.

"Can I play in the sand, Mommy?" The little boy asked.

"Yes. You play. Mommy is going to be sitting over there." She pointed to my bench. "Do you mind if I sit with you?" she asked.

"Please do," I said. My eyes hadn't moved from her son.

The lady looked at my picture. "Oh my," she gasped. "That is a perfect picture of Justin."

She thought I had drawn her son. I almost explained it to her, but the words jammed in my throat. Pain crept out from the place I had buried it. Instead, I said, "Yes, it is your son." I ripped the sheet of paper out and gave it to the mom.

"Oh, thank you," she said.

As she gazed at it, she got a phone call.

"No. I haven't found a sitter yet……..Yes, I know I have to start back on Monday……yes, thank you for giving me time to look………it isn't that easy."

I opened my notebook and began sketching a flower. I tried not to eavesdrop.

After the mom's conversation ended, I noticed tears on her face.

"What is wrong?" I asked.

She quickly wiped them. "I am sorry. I don't mean to cry, but I have to start back to work Monday, and I haven't found a sitter for Justin."

The little boy dumped a pile of sand in his hair.

"Don't do that," the mom said.

"Is this your first time back to work?" My magenta fingernails traced the lines on my paper.

"Oh no," she turned to me. She had deep brown eyes like me. "I am a career mom. My mother-in-law watched Justin, but…" the tears came again. "She died last week."

"Oh, I am sorry," I said.

The mom took a few moments for silence. I didn't press her. "Anyway, my work gave me a week off to settle her affairs and to find a sitter. The problem is, I don't trust anyone. Justin is my life. He is more precious than jewels to me. You wouldn't just give a diamond to a stranger and ask them to keep it safe. So, why would I give my son to just anyone?"

I knew exactly what she meant. If I hadn't left Justin with a stranger, he would be alive today. I tried to keep my tears away.

"Your son is so beautiful. I would watch him for you."

She wiped the back of her eyes off with her hand. "Really? You would?"

"Sure, I would. He reminds me of…" Then my tears came. "He reminds me of a little boy I used to know."

"What is your name, and where do you live?"

"I am Tina, and I live around the corner. I have a Ph.D. in accounting, so you can trust me." Wow, that was a stupid thing to say.

"Ah, yes," she said. "I also have a Ph.D. in accounting. Oh, my name is Jill. I live in the historic home right over there," she said, pointing to her house. I knew the home well. It had been on the news a few years ago for its age and impeccable upkeep.

"Wow, that is your home," I said.

"Yup," she replied.

We stayed at the park for five hours talking. At first, I think Jill refused to consider me as a sitter. I didn't blame her. She didn't know me. But we discovered we had so much in common. I eventually told her about Trenton, and she held me as I cried. The tears started again when we discovered that Justin and Trenton had the same birthdays.

"We were meant to meet," Jill told me.

"You think?"

"Yes. I believe you will love Justin as much as you loved Trenton."

I wiped my eyes. "I will."

"You need Justin in your life. And I need a safe place for Justin. Having you babysit will work beautifully."

And so, there at the park, we discussed the details of me watching Justin. I never knew why Jill trusted me as she did. But having her trust balmed my soul.

"What do you mean you quit your job to babysit a little boy?" The frustration in Peter's voice came out hard and edged.

"The mom needed my help, and she had no one to turn to."

"Her son is not your responsibility."

"You don't understand," I screamed as the hysteria rose. "He looks just like Trenton. This was meant to be. If I can never be a mom, at least I can help another mom."

"That is creepy," Peter said.

I took my cereal bowl and slammed it onto the kitchen floor. Pieces of ceramic and milk went everywhere. "I am not asking for your permission. I need this! I need to watch Justin. I hate life. Do you realize that? I hate it. I despise working every day. I was meant to be a nurturer, not a career woman." Darkness swirled in me and rose like a volcano of ash. Uncontrolled fury billowed out of me, and I didn't care.

Peter didn't like it, but I began watching Justin. Jill dropped him off half an hour after Peter left for the day, and she picked him up half an hour before Peter got home. That suited Peter since he wanted nothing to do with babysitting Justin.

I shouldn't have allowed it, but I fell fully in love with Justin. He stepped into Trenton's spot. I took Justin everywhere, just as I had Trenton. Jill was amazed only after three months; I had taught Justin to read. I had watched Justin for nine months when Jill presented me with horrible news.

"He will start school in two weeks. I won't need a babysitter after that. He can just stay after school at their after-school program."

"Oh, please," I begged. "I love Justin so much. You saw how I taught him to read in three months. Please, let me homeschool him."

Jill looked a little freaked and hesitant. "That is going a little above the call of duty," she said.

And like that two weeks later, Justin started school. I spent the whole day in bed, bawling. The next day, I was still in bed after Peter left for work when I heard pounding on the door. It was Jill and Justin.

"Please forgive my intrusion," she said.

"No, no, please come in."

Jill looked at her watch. Justin ran into my arms, and I squeezed him.

"I have to run to work. Listen, I took Justin to school yesterday, and a bully pushed him in the sand. Then, later, one of the kids taught Justin the word S. E. X. I was sick over all of it, and I wasn't sure what to do. But today, when I drove Justin to school, he screamed and said he would never go to school again. He said he feared the bullies and begged me to take him to you."

"Oh, little guy, did you miss me?" I held Justin tighter as those fleshy arms squeezed my neck. "I missed you too."

Jill looked sheepish. "Can I take you up on the offer to homeschool him?"

"Yes, Yes!" I sang.

And like that, Justin entered my life again.

Four glorious years passed. With my diligence, Justin reached a sixth-grade level of composition and skills. I incorporated as many field trips into school as I could. I always took thousands of pictures and sent them to Jill. I could tell she envied my time with Justin, but it pleased her to have someone watch him who cared about him as much as she. Honestly, I think I loved him more than she did.

That fall, the day after Halloween, we woke up to heavy smoke in the air.

"Where are you going?" I asked Peter as he slipped on his shoes.

"I am going to see where the smoke is coming from."

"We will be late for church."

"I will be quick," he said. But he wasn't. I waited two hours for him, and we had missed church. Finally, I went outside and followed the smoke past the park. Heavy smoke clung to my nose hairs. My heart dropped when I saw Justin's house on fire. The flames had toppled the home to the ground.

"No. No. No." My mouth gaped open as my hands dropped to my side. My heart raced, and I felt faint.

I ran towards the burning house when strong hands grabbed me. It was Peter.

"Where are you going?" His high pitch made me cover my ears.

"I have to rescue Justin."

Peter had soot all over his face and clothes.

"The residents of the house are out and safe. Don't go in there. You will die."

I scanned the yard. I saw lots of neighbors who had come to help. I did not see Jill or Justin.

"Where is Justin?" I screamed. My breaths came out quick and furious.

Peter looked worried. "Justin doesn't live here. Only that elderly couple over there," Peter said.

Two camp chairs set up in the street. An older couple sat in them and watched their house burn down.

"Where is Justin?" I screamed. Peter grabbed my arm.

"Let go of me," I yelled, pushing him away.

"Justin doesn't live here." Peter put his hand on my shoulder.

I threw Peter's hand off and ran to the couple.

"Where are Justin and Jill?"

The older couple's already bothered eyes looked at me in confusion. Their adult daughter stood between us and shielded her parents from me. "An accountant named Jill and her son Justin live here. Where are they?"

"No one lives here but my parents." The daughter crossed her arms across her chest like a human barrier.

"They must have rented a room or two," I said.

"No."

"Please, tell me where Justin is," I screamed as I pushed past the daughter. The older lady gasped.

Peter grabbed me, and he dragged me away from the distraught couple.

"I have to save Justin," I screamed, throwing Peter off me and running toward the house.

Peter and a few other men tackled me and somehow dragged me home.

I slumped on the couch as Peter sat next to me.

"Maybe you are mistaken about where Jill and Justin live."

"No. They live there. I know they do."

I texted Jill like mad, but she never responded. Of course, she wouldn't respond. She had died in the house fire. Peter spent the night trying to calm me. He said he would go to work late on Monday to be there when Justin showed up.

But Justin didn't come.

Jill had never dropped off Justin late.

But that day, Jill and Justin didn't come.

"They died in the house fire," I bawled. Peter spent the day with me, but he didn't comfort me. He had me read the newspaper article, "Mr. and Mrs. Spiddling made it out safely. No one else was in the home at the time of the fire."

"It isn't true. Jill and Justin died." My eyes rapidly blinked.

I sat in the front room all that week, waiting for Jill to drop off Justin.

She never came.

On Friday, Peter stayed home from work.

"Why are you staying home?" I asked. I could smell myself. I hadn't showered since Sunday.

"We need to go for a drive." Peter tenderly stroked my arm.

"Why," I said with hope. "Did you find Justin and Jill?"

He looked away and then at me. "No."

"Then I can't go anywhere. What if Jill comes to drop off Justin?"

"Listen, Tina. I have gone door to door in the entire neighborhood. No one knows Justin or Jill. They don't live around here."

"That is because they died in the fire."

"No. But they didn't live here."

We sat in silence. I didn't believe him.

"Tina, I am worried about you. I think you need to go somewhere for a couple of days where you can get some help."

"There is nothing wrong with me!"

"Can you think of anyone else who knew Justin or Jill?"

"No."

"I know you love to take selfies. Do you have any pictures with Justin?"

My mood lifted. "Oh yes, I have a ton! I take pictures all the time and send them to Jill."

I opened my photo app, and I scrolled until I found a picture of Justin and Jill.

"That is them. Maybe you can take the picture to the police. Maybe we should file a missing person report." I handed my phone to Peter. He looked at it stone-faced.

"Do you have any other pictures?"

"You are in Justin's file. All you have to do is scroll to the left or right."

Peter scrolled for several frames and then stopped.

"I don't see any pictures with Justin in them," he said.

"Oh, give me my phone. You must have touched something." He handed me the phone, and I held Justin's hand on the screen. Justin had on the Ninja Turtle costume I had made him. He looked so cute with his big, crooked teeth. I handed the phone back to Peter.

"Um, there is only a picture of you. Where is Justin?"

"Right there." I pointed to Justin. "In the Ninja Turtle costume, I made him."

"Um… It's you holding a costume, but no one is in it."

"What are you talking about?" I yelled, yanking my phone back. "You are stupid."

I looked at Justin. I bet Trenton would have fit that costume. I bet Trenton would have looked cute in it.

What was Peter doing?

And then, before my eyes, Justin dissipated out of the picture. He disappeared. There I stood, holding a flaccid costume.

"Where did Justin go?" I screeched. I swiped to the next picture. In the picture, I sat at a sidewalk café, but I sat alone. I had only taken that picture last week, and Justin had been next to me. I looked at another picture and another.

-No, Justin.

"What did you do with Justin?" I asked. I madly looked through all my pictures. I couldn't find Justin in one picture. Neither could I find Jill.

Peter looked as worried as I felt.

"Where is Justin?"

"Can I ask you a difficult question?"

"What?"

"Was Justin real?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course, Justin was real." A tight band of confusion squeezed my chest as my fingers and face tingled.

"I have never seen him."

"That is because you were always at work."

"Yes, but they never lived where you said they lived. No one in the neighborhood knows them." Peter stopped for a minute. "Are you sure you didn't fabricate Justin to take Trenton's place?"

I pounded my hand into Peter's shoulder. "Why would you say such cruel things?" I screamed as I stood up.

"You said you sent pictures of Justin to Jill. Can you show me your texts?"

I opened up our text threads and saw the pictures Jill had sent to me of Justin trick-or-treating. There were also several texts from Jill telling me how things went.

"Ha," I said as I shoved the phone to Peter. "I can't believe you thought I made this up."

Peter's face went white.

"Tina, these are texts to yourself."

"What do you mean?" I ripped my phone out of his hands.

"You wrote every text and sent them all back to you."

"No, I didn't. I sent these to Jill. She texts back. You can clearly see that. You can't argue this evidence."

And then, just like the pictures from earlier, Jill and Justin disappeared from all the images in the text. And Jill's number turned into mine.

They, indeed, were texts to me from me.

How could this be? Was Peter tricking me?

"Tina, I am sorry. You made Justin and Jill up."

"No," I said, throwing my phone across the room and covering my face.

Crack. The phone hit the wall.

"You always said Justin looked just like Trenton. Did you ever wonder why that was?"

"No."

"Didn't you find it convenient that Jill was an accountant like you? She was your working self. You gave her permission to do your job so you could stay home as you had always wanted."

"No."

"Justin and Trenton had the same birthdate."

"No."

"You met them two years to the date of Trenton's death."

"No."

"Didn't you find it odd that a stranger allowed you to babysit her baby? Your mind created that scenario so you could rectify how the strangers babysat and hurt your baby."

"No."

"Tina, I am sorry. None of it was real."

Darkness shrouded my mind. I paced back and forth.

"Then what have I been doing for the last four years?"

Peter shrugged.

"All those places I took of Justin. He wasn't there?"

Peter's eyes looked sad and drawn down as he shook his head.

"So, who was with me? Who did I talk to? Who ate Justin's food?"

"Must have all been you."

"No."

I ripped off a nail from my pinky.

"I thought losing Trenton was hard. But this…This, I don't know what to do with this." I wrapped my arms around my chest as if to hold myself.

"I know," Peter replied as he rested his warm hand upon mine.

And like that, my world crashed, and it stole my sanity just like it had stolen all my pregnancies, Trenton, Jill, and Justin.

I never enjoyed life again.

-Never!

I lost my mind the day I lost Justin.

____________________________________________________________________

Covering up the Pain

by Stephanie Daich