Page 53 of Steele

I’d promised her she’d always be my little girl no matter how big she got. Last night, I couldn’t remember that I was supposed to be grieving my baby. Tears swam in my eyes as I entered the house.

There was no one waiting for me. No laughter. No life. But this was the way it was supposed to be. That wasn’t me last night. That was a woman who forgot she was a mother. I still clutched the crumpled, white, paper bag in my hand.

I slid to the floor in the brightly lit kitchen. I rested my forehead on my knees, and I trembled as sobs racked my body. I cried until I’d exhausted my tears. Last night, it was as if I were someone else. I didn’t want to be that woman. I couldn’t be her because I couldn’t be happy, not without Matti.

Too exhausted to do anything else, I climbed the stairs to my bedroom and slid into bed fully dressed. I dozed but continued to wake up because my phone kept chirping with incoming text messages.

Holly wanted to know how the mediation went with the lawyers. Brett wanted to know if I wanted to get dinner before going to the club. Holly asked if I wanted to go to Roosters. My replies were short. Fine. I can’t. No.

Brett: Nothing better than a night ride on the bike. Can I pick you up late? About eleven?

Jaymi: Another time.

Maybe I should’ve said more, but I just wanted to sleep. During the night, I grabbed a sleeve of saltines from the kitchen and ate them in bed.

Brett didn’t text a third time, and I felt worse. I couldn’t pretend to be someone I wasn’t. I wasn’t like McKelle or the other girls. More tears soaked into my pillow. At some point, I cried myself to sleep again.

In the morning, I shuffled my way into the bathroom. I needed a shower. Sundays were spent with my parents. First church and then my mom would make a big dinner. Since the accident, Sundays had been my salvation. I felt closest to Matti at the cemetery and when I was with my parents. Mom loved to tell Matti stories. My parents could talk about her without fearing my tears, and they hated Jeff as much as I did for what he’d done to our family.

But as I sat on the toilet, another wave of emotions rolled through me. I couldn’t go today. I grabbed my phone, climbed back into bed, and texted my mom that I wasn’t feeling well. I just needed today to put myself back together.

Several hours must have passed because Holly calling my name woke me. My bedroom door opened, and the light snapped on.

“I’ve been texting you—” She stopped mid-sentence and rushed across the room. Then she sat on the edge of my bed. “What happened?”

By the tone of her voice, I knew I looked as retched as I felt. Tears filled my eyes again.

Holly folded me into her arms. “What did that bitch say to you? I knew something was wrong when you didn’t call Friday night.”

“The mediation went fine.” I tucked my messy hair behind my ear. “At least, it went as my attorney expected. He prepared me for the worst.”

“So, she’s taking his social security?”

“And more,” I said flatly. “We’re still negotiating how much she’s going to get. I don’t care. I’m not upset about the settlement anymore.” I closed my eyes and pictured Matti. “It’s funny how a situation can give you perspective.”

“There isn’t anything good about this situation. But I can understand you just wanting to get it over with.”

“It’s not her.” I stared into her eyes. “I saw him again,” I whispered.

“The biker?”

I nodded.

The tension left her body on an exhale. “When?”

“Friday night. I can’t do this, Holl.” I told her about The Bearded Goat, but not about the restraining order. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to see Brett again. “He took me to the Heller Raiders clubhouse. We drank, and I met his friends. I spent the night with him.”

A slow smile curled her lips.

“No. It’s nothing to smile about.” I nestled under the covers. “I spent the night in his bed, Holly, like nothing else mattered. Not my job, not my reputation, not—” I stumbled over my words. “Not Matti.”

“Oh my god.” She flopped onto her back next to me. She stared at the ceiling. “Jaymi, you’re allowed to live your life.”

“What about Matti?”

She twisted her head to glance at me. “She would want her mommy to be happy.”

I knew her words made sense, but they didn’t feel right. Not for me. “I’m happy when I’m at the cemetery. I’m happy when I’m thinking about her.” It’s the only happiness I needed. The only happiness I was going to allow myself.