October's Lie

October’s Lie
by Vivian Gilbert Zabel

          With the strap of her purse over her shoulder, Amy stepped from the front porch to the walk leading to the gate. The balmy breeze caressed her face as the sun’s brightness caused her to squint, but none of the day’s warmth reached her heart. This is just another trick, she thought as she continued toward her car. October is telling another lie, making us think that it holds nothing but beauty. Her lips tightened. It’s a lie. October means nothing but death.

          “Mommy! Mommy!” Her son’s voice reached her before his three-year-old body barreled around the corner of the house. “I want to go, too.”

          Amy paused. The sight of his dimples peeking through the smears of dirt caused her to smile. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but I have to go to the doctor. You can go to town with me another time, okay?”

          The little boy’s grin turned immediately to a frown as tears started to form in his eyes. “You . . . you aren’t sick, are you, Mommy?” he whispered, his head dropping as if he wanted to study the ground by his feet.

          “Oh, nothing serious, Mike, just a checkup I have every year.” Amy dropped to her knees beside her son and wrapped him in her arms. “What’s wrong, sweetie? I’ve gone to the doctor before and so have you.”

          Mike laid his head on his mother’s shoulder. “I know . . . But, Mommy, Dina went to the doctor, an’ she . . .” His voice broke on a sob.

          “Mike, it’s all right. Dina was a very sick baby. Going to the doctor didn’t cause . . .” With all her strength, Amy struggled to control her own fear and grief. “Sweetie, look at me.” She slipped her bent finger under Mike’s chin and tipped his head so that she could see his face. Tears had smeared some of the dirt into mud tracks. “Going to the doctor isn’t what made Dina sick or caused her . . .” Now, her voice broke.

          “To died,” Mike continued her thought. His dark blue eyes searched his mother’s face. “You won’t died, too, will you, Mommy?”

          Holding her son to her breast, her heart aching for both of them, Amy whispered, “I certainly don’t plan to, sweetie.”

          Mike hugged his mother’s neck before wiggling away. “Okay, I’ll go play with Mutt and Jeff,” referring to the family’s German Shepherds. “Will you bring me a ‘prise?”

          “I just might, if you’re good while I’m gone and don't give Granny any trouble.”

          Two fists knotted on non-existent hips. “I don’t never give Granny trouble, Mommy.”

          “I know, sweetie. I was just teasing. Now, go let Granny know where you will be, and I’ll see you when I get back.”

          After watching Mike turn toward the house, Amy continued to the car, her thoughts whirling back to October the year before: rushing her tiny daughter to the doctor’s office, then to the hospital; watching the infant struggle to breathe; standing helplessly by as Dina took her last gasp.

          I can’t remember what my baby felt like. Her cheek was so very cold as she lay in that white, satin-wrapped box. Amy wiped the tears from her face as she drove toward town. I was so selfish, so selfish, never noticing Ross’ tears mixing with mine while he held me. That was his daughter, too, being placed in the ground. She sighed as she tried to bring her mind back to today.

          “October is a lie. Autumn leaves aren’t beautiful. They’re a sign of death.” Amy muttered as the vision of a blanket of gold, red, and brown leaves resting close by a small grave blasted through her mind.

          Two hours later, Amy sat in her car again. Her mind felt numb. She stared out the windshield without seeing any of the people passing by. When a horn honked close by, she shook her head as if awakening. She glanced around before starting the car. As if by rote, she drove home. When she stopped the car by the front gate, she didn’t move. She sat behind the wheel staring at nothing. She didn’t change expression or position when her mother tapped on the window. She never noticed her mother hurry toward the barn. She felt her husband’s arms gather her to his chest after he slid into the front seat of the car beside her. She knew the safety of his love as she nestled against him and let sobs rack her body.

          “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Please, tell me,” Ross begged, his lips touching her temple as one hand soothed her hair. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me. What did the doctor say? Please, please tell me. This is killing me, Amy. You have to tell me.”

          “She, she said . . .” Amy’s voice, filled with tears, mumbled against his shirt. “She said we’re," she paused, "we’re going to . . . have a baby.”

          Ross straightened and his hands stilled. He kept his arms around his wife, but he seemed turned to stone. “A baby?” he whispered.

          “She said . . . what happened to . . . Dina," she stammered between sobs before she stopped and raised her head to gaze at the man beside her. “Dr. Turner said . . . that what happened . . .” She wiped the tears from her face with trembling fingers. “It shouldn’t happen again.”

          “I don’t know." Ross forced words from his mouth. “How can we . . . I can’t go through that again.”

          “I don’t know either, Ross. But, together we can, can’t we?” With a slight sob in her voice, Amy added, “I know I leaned on you completely when Dina died."

          “A man’s supposed to be strong.” His arms dropped from around her. “What are you going to do?”

          A frown puckered her brow as Amy stared at the cold man before her. “Ross, what’s wrong? You . . . you’ve left me.”

          “I’m right here.” He moved to the open door. “You need to get in the house before Mike comes looking for you. Let me know what you decide to do.”

          Amy grabbed his arm. “No! Ross! What’s wrong? And, what do you mean, let you know what I decide to do? Decide about what?”

          Ross stared out the windshield a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t think I want another child.”

          “Ross?” she whispered his name in a nearly silent plea. “Ross, you . . . you can’t be serious.”

          He yanked his arm away from her grasp. “I can’t go though that again. I can’t watch you go to pieces and wonder if you’ll ever come back to me. I’m scared every day now. No, no, I just can’t.” He slid from the car, slammed the door, and half-ran across the drive and farmyard to the barn.

          The wind whirled through the trees scattering a flurry of leaves over the car. Amy crawled out the driver’s door to stand next to the fence. Another October lie. She raised her hand to press fingers against trembling lips. Nothing but death and hopelessness in October. She stumbled toward the front porch, where her mother stood in the doorway with a puzzled frown on her face. As Amy reached the bottom step, she stopped. No, October didn’t do this. Ross and I have to talk.

          “Amy, what’s wrong?” Marta asked as her daughter paused at the bottom of the steps.

          With a glance toward the barn, Amy quietly answered, “I don’t know for sure, but I need to find Ross.” She stared a moment longer at the barn door her husband had stormed through before turning her eyes toward her mother. “Mom, I didn’t realize how much Ross suffered. I really hurt him.”

          “You were suffering yourself, dear. So much that you couldn’t tell that anyone else was.” The older woman moved toward the steps. “You just didn’t see.”

          “No, I didn’t, but now I do. I need to go find him, Mom. Would you mind keeping an eye on Mike a little longer?”

          “We’ll be fine. I’ll have Mike help me start dinner. You go to your husband.” Marta made shooing motions with her hands.

          “Thanks, Mom.” Amy gave a wan smile before pivoting back to the gate. She strode toward the barn as the wind whipped her dark hair around her face.

          She opened the small door to the barn. “Ross? Ross, where are you?”

          “Go away, Amy. I need to be by myself.” Ross stood against the stall where a horse munched on hay in the feeder.

          Amy moved behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “No, you’ve been alone too long.” She laid her head against his back. “I closed myself up with my grief. I'm sorry.”

          “You don’t need to be sorry. I’m okay.” His tone of voice, brisk and brusque, hurt her ears.

          “No, you’re not okay. You’ve had to be strong too long. You needed me, and I wasn't there.” She grabbed his arm, pulling him toward her. At first he resisted; then he allowed her to turn him.

          “Amy, please just let me work through this by myself.” His dark eyes bored into hers. “I don’t want to hurt you any more.” He raised one hand to brush her hair back from her face. “I don’t want to say anything else that . . . that will cause you any more pain.”

          “I know. I know. You don’t have to say anything. I want you to listen.” Amy turned her face to kiss his hand. “I love you.” She looked at him. “I love you, and I took you for granted. I acted as if I was the only one hurting, as if I was the only one who lost Dina. I . . . I’m so sorry.” With a wry grin, she added, "Huh, I'm repeating myself a lot."

          “Amy, don’t . . .”

          “Please, let me finish. I’m scared about this baby, too, about what might happen. I worry every time you or Mike are out of my sight. I don’t know if I could stand to lose another child or you, but I know that I wouldn’t change a thing." She felt him jerk. "We, I had Dina for six months, her smiles, her love, her arms around my neck. I wouldn’t change having her, even if it meant missing the grief.” Amy bit her lip and looked at her hands spread on her husband’s chest.

          “Sweetheart, you don’t have to say any more.” Strong arms circled her and drew her close.

          “Yes, yes, I do.” She raised her head to search his face. “I, whew, how do I explain what I mean? I have to have this baby, Ross. It’s a part of us, a part of me already. We need to be a family again, Ross. We have to, for Mike’s sake, for our sakes.” She raised her hand to cup the side of his face. “Can we try? Please? Will you?”

          A heavy sigh raised the chest under her hand that gripped his shirt. “You know I’ve never been able to say no to you.” He lowered his head to lay his forehead against hers. “I want our family back, Amy. I want things like they were, but I don’t know if they ever can be.”

          “No, my love, they can’t ever be the same, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be good again. If we really try.” Her arm circled his neck. “And, I do love you.”

          Just before his lips met hers, Ross whispered, “I love you, too.”

          Later that night, Mike snuggled in his bed dreaming of whatever little boys dream. Marta read in her room at the back of the house. Ross reclined in front of the television watching football. Amy bent over to kiss the top of his head on her way to the office across the hall from the living room. Sitting in front of the computer, she opened up the site for writers she had found a few minutes earlier. With a smile she filled in the last bit of information asked, “What user name do you want to use?” Her smile grew as she thought of the perfect name to use. “Octobers Lie” she typed in the blank.

          Yes, perfect. October’s final lie is that it isn’t death, but just a sleep that ends in new life.