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After a small gathering of family and friends at Kate’s parents’ house in Hudson, Wisconsin, Kate, John and Louise dropped Marco’s mom, Maria, off at the airport. The three of them then drove in silence until they turned up the driveway to Kate’s house. The sun had set, and Kate both dreaded and yearned to go inside.
She heard seatbelts unclicking.
“We’ll come in and get you settled.”
“No, Mom. Please. I’m fine. I just want to be alone. And you must be exhausted.”
Louise opened the back door. “But—”
“Of course, Kate,” said John. “Come on, Louise.”
Louise huffed, but moved to the front passenger seat. Before shutting the car door, Kate leaned in. “Thanks again for everything. I really appreciate it. I couldn’t have gotten through this day without you both.”
“We wanted to help, sweetheart,” said her mom.
“And we still want to help,” said her dad. “Remember, we’re here for you. Lock up when you get inside.”
“Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Kate shut the car door and climbed the stairs. After unlocking the kitchen door and stepping inside, she switched on a light and turned to wave to her parents. She watched as their car’s lights faded down the street. She continued to stare out into the shadows of her backyard long after they’d gone, as if in a trance. The house was eerily silent. This reality was more frightening than she’d imagined.
Home. By herself. Forever.
Leaving the light on over the stove, she walked into the living room and headed upstairs. She stopped at Renzo’s door and flipped on the light switch. Her hand rushed to her throat as she choked on her own breath. She pressed her fingers to her lips to hold her scream, as her heart revved and pounded.
She stepped inside his room. Her hand touched his desk and the books and pencils scattered across it. Her fingers grazed the wooden shelves holding his soccer trophies and ribbons. Her feet brushed his favorite sweatshirt with his school’s name and logo. It sat in its usual pile, near, but not in, the laundry basket. She picked it up and inhaled his scent, squeezing it tightly as she pressed the fabric into her eyes to absorb her burning tears.
Her little boy, her baby. Gone.
Her lips quivered and her nose burned, as she looked around his room. She took in every little thing, including his knee pads and soccer ball laying in the corner next to his bed. None of them could have known that the past season of soccer would be his last.
Kate sat on Renzo’s bed and grabbed his pillow. She sat there for several minutes, before bringing it to her face and soaking in the scent of his shampooed curls.
More tears welled in her eyes, and she let them stream quietly down her cheeks. Images of Marco and Renzo’s bloodied bodies blazed in her memory, flashing as bright as the police sirens at the scene. Those images popped in and out, and over and over in her mind. The pain of those visions was too much.
After days of holding it together for everyone else, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. Her body began to seize and shudder. She fell off the bed to her knees and howled and rocked for nearly an hour, as she tried, unsuccessfully, to shake those horrible bloody images from her memory.
Sapped of all strength, she struggled to her feet. She grabbed Renzo’s pillow, walked across the hall to her bedroom, and climbed into bed. She placed Marco’s pillow near her face, taking in the subtle scent of his cologne, and held Renzo’s pillow close to her heart.
She cried off and on, grateful for the solitude to finally let go. Loud, uncontrollable sobs purged her body, numbness and weariness the only breaks in her agony.
Her eyes grew heavy with fatigue and she finally relaxed, grateful to be alone, away from the looks of pity, the words of sorrow. It was all too heavy a burden for her to bear.
Her tears had dried for the moment, but her throat ached and her heart felt scorched, blackened. She flopped around for an hour before finally succumbing to complete exhaustion.
