Dead Spots (4 page)

“I've got my list made,” Mackenzie said. “It includes a trip to Vegas to visit you as soon as funds provide. I can't wait to see my little goddaughter.”

“She's getting so big! You're going to be amazed. We're almost back on our feet financially, so hopefully we'll make it to Kerrville for the holidays. I really want you to meet her.”

Rubbing her brow with her fingertips, Mackenzie watched the darkening skyline with some trepidation. The cold front and the accompanying storm inched ever closer. “I can't wait to see you. I won't lie. I wish you still lived in Kerrville. I'm going to be lonely without you there.”

“Mac, you really need to join the church singles group. It'll be a great way to reconnect and make friends,” Erin answered.

“Honestly, Erin, I'm not sure if I will be heading back to church.”

The horizon was darkening with each passing second. A pang of fear throbbed alongside her pulse. Thunder and lightning always put her on edge. There was a long beat of silence. It was hard for Erin to fathom how Mackenzie had lost her faith after the death of her child. However, Mackenzie found it difficult to comprehend how Erin didn't understand.

“Well, you do what you need to do for yourself, hon,” Erin said at last.

“I will. I've got my lists, remember?” Mackenzie tried to sound upbeat, but her gaze was fastened to the gloomy horizon. “But I need to go. A storm is brewing and I still need to say goodbye to Joshua.”

“Okay, hon. Just give me a call if you need to talk. Love ya.”

“Love ya.”

Mackenzie killed the call and stared at the screen of her cell phone. On it was a picture of Erin grinning as she pressed her cherubic daughter's cheek against her own. Samantha had Erin's blue eyes and blond hair, but her father's crooked smile. Erin had sent the photo selfie only after Mackenzie insisted. Her best friend was very cautious, always trying not to trigger her in any way. Mackenzie appreciated the consideration, but she didn't want to be disconnected from her friend's joy.

Mackenzie grabbed the tote bag she was using as her purse and the flowers she bought after leaving Angie. The specter of what could have been haunted her and its presence only grew stronger when she stepped out of the car. She'd never hear Joshua cry, see his smile, or hold him close and snap a picture to send to Erin.

The walk across the cemetery was peaceful, but it did not diminish the pain throbbing inside her heart. Strolling past old tombstones, Mackenzie headed toward the saddest corner of the cemetery dubbed the “baby graveyard.” Though she was the thinnest she'd ever been in her life, her legs felt thick and heavy and it was difficult to breathe the closer she drew to the small headstones with a single date engraved on their marble faces. The flowers clutched in her hand drooped in the growing heat of the day and sweat trailed along her neck making her brown hair damp.

Pausing at the delicate wrought iron fence that laced the tiny graveyard, she forced herself to take another deep breath to steady her nerves. Stone cherubs watched over tombstones engraved with hearts and teddy bears. Flowers and toys rested against the marble slabs of the newer graves, while older graves sat neglected among the weeds. Mackenzie pushed open the gate, her breathing sounding harsh and loud in the serene setting. A gush of air sent dry leaves skittering over the headstones and she cast a wary look over one shoulder. The massive storm was moving rapidly from the south end of the city. Curtains of rain were already falling from the thick, dark clouds. Her time with Joshua would be much shorter than she'd like. Winding through the graves adorned with wilting flowers, toys, and ribbons, she continued to take very deep breaths in an increasingly futile attempt to calm her nerves.

The flat marble stone with her baby boy's name came into view beneath the thick, gnarled trees of a live oak. The teddy bear she had placed on the headstone during her last visit was listing in the grass and was a little battered by the elements. Kneeling next to the grave, she carefully cleaned off the marble with the bottom of her shirt and removed any bits of leaves or grass. Lovingly, she traced the engraving of the name of her dead son.

JOSHUA TANNER BABIN

It hurt to think of her baby nestled in satin and wood beneath the warm, moist ground. She'd never dreamed that a coffin could be so small. Her heart had physically ached when she'd chosen one to be Joshua's resting place. It was wrong to place a baby in a coffin instead of a crib. So wrong.

The branches of the live oak tree creaked loudly overhead. As the storm neared, the last bit of sunshine faded to gray and the cemetery lost its peaceful aura. Laying the flowers on the headstone, Mackenzie leaned over and kissed the marble. It was soothingly cool against her chapped lips.

“Hey, Joshua, it's Mama. Are you having fun up there in heaven with Grandma and Grandpa? I bet you play with the angels all the time.” Though she had lost her faith in God, she hoped that Joshua was somewhere safe and loved. A piece of her was certain that he was still watching over her, intangible, yet lingering. Another strong wind rattled the trees and sent dirt spiraling through the air. “I have to go back home to Texas, baby boy. Daddy and I didn't know what to do without you. We're going to make new lives now, but we're not going to stop loving you. I'm going to be far away, but I'll come when I can. Aunt Angie is going to put flowers on your grave for me every month.”

Lightning arced through the clouds and a few seconds later the boom of thunder echoed around Mackenzie, sending a needle of dread through her. For one brief, insane moment, Mackenzie worried that Joshua was afraid in his coffin under the ground.

Closing her eyes, she lifted her sweaty palm to her forehead. The dark wave of her sorrow was building behind the careful construct of self-control. It was difficult to kneel before her son's grave and not wonder yet again why he had died. It ate at her that medical science couldn't give her an answer. She often pondered if it would be easier to come to terms with Joshua's death if there'd been a definitive cause. How could a baby just die? Even after the doctor had explained that the autopsy and tests results indicated no discernible cause of death and that Joshua had died from Sudden Antenatal Death Syndrome, it was her mother's voice in her mind that drowned out the doctor's assurances. She was still haunted by the first words her mother spoke to her after Tanner had called to tell Estelle of the baby's passing.

“Mackenzie, what did you do wrong?”

All her life she had been terrified of thunder and an earthshattering boom broke through the last of her mental defenses, sweeping her away in a maelstrom of self-incrimination.

She had failed her son. Somehow she had killed him while she slept. If only she hadn't slept on her back that night he might still be alive and she would still be living with Tanner in their lovely little home. Or maybe it had been the spicy barbecue she had eaten for dinner. Or maybe that damn cupcake …

Opening her eyes, Mackenzie rested both hands on her son's grave. “Joshua, I'm so sorry. So sorry.”

Rocking back and forth, she struggled to banish the tormenting thoughts while the raging storm crept toward the cemetery. Mackenzie fumbled with her purse, searching for the bottle of the pills her doctor had prescribed for her anxiety attacks. He'd instructed her not to take them unless she was struggling to cope. She found his wording ironic since she struggled all the time, yet he had admonished her to use them sparingly. Her fingers trembled as she found the bottle. Estelle did not believe in medicating problems away. Mackenzie was supposed to buck up and deal. As she stared at the bottle of Xanax, her mother's words again echoed in her mind.

“Mackenzie, what did you do wrong?”

“I didn't do anything wrong, Mom.”

She pushed the bottle to the bottom of the purse.

Tossing a worried look at the approaching storm and the ragged lightning flashing in its depths, Mackenzie reluctantly accepted that it was time to leave. The darkness of the grave called to her, and, for one mad moment, she wanted to burrow into the earth and sleep forever with her baby. Pressing a few more kisses to the headstone, Mackenzie fought the wave of despair. Starting over meant being strong not only for herself, but for Joshua, too. She had to let him rest in peace.

The air currents churned, pulling at her hair.

Maybe it was a sign it was time to go.

“Bye-bye, baby boy,” she whispered, then hurried out of the baby graveyard while still strong enough to do so.

Hugging herself, she ducked her head against the gusting winds. The trek to the car was far longer than she remembered and she stole worried looks at the dark billowing clouds above. The rain was falling nearby and the air smelled of ozone, fresh earth, and decay.

Another crash of thunder startled her and she stumbled in her haste to make it to the safety of the car. Her imagination turned against her, transforming shadows into wraiths and bouquets left on graves into grasping fingers. Running the last few hundred feet to the car, she told herself it was to avoid the rain, but she knew it was a lie. Once she took refuge inside the car, she clutched the steering wheel and watched the sky open. Heavy drops splattered across the windshield.

“Time to move on,” she said, shoved the key into the ignition, and hesitated.

Once she left, her baby would remain in his eternal slumber in his tiny coffin while she lived on. The cruelty of that reality tore at her. If only she could hold him one last time.…

“Goodbye, baby,” she whispered, forcing her fingers to turn the key.

The engine roared to life. A flick of a switch and the headlights transformed the raindrops to falling diamonds. The beautiful sight enraptured her. Sometimes, when she was in her darkest place emotionally, something beautiful would happen, like a rainbow, a ladybug landing on her hand, or butterflies spinning past her bedroom window. She clung to these moments as gifts from Joshua. Maybe it was irrational, but she couldn't help but hope they were signs from him.

The thunder broke overhead, destroying her reverie.

With a sigh, Mackenzie shifted gears and drove away.

*   *   *

The semi-truck barreled down the outside lane and passed the Taurus, spewing dirty rainwater over the hood and windshield. Mackenzie steadied the steering wheel as the car trembled in the wake of the big rig. Nervously licking her lips, she tried to concentrate on the heavy traffic flowing along the interstate.

Estelle's voice was buried under the sound of another long-haul rig passing, but then flowed out of the Bluetooth headset clear as day. “… and make sure that you don't stop at truck stops. Those are dangerous places. Truck drivers are hard up for women. You don't need to be accosted. If you get too tired, do
not
pull over at a rest stop. Degenerates, homosexuals, and serial killers hang out there. Don't let your tank go below half-full.…”

Mackenzie inhaled and then gradually let the breath slip through her lips in an attempt to remain calm. Estelle was in one of her tizzies. Mackenzie was not going to be able to get a word in for a few more minutes.

Interstate 20 was packed with large semi-trailer trucks heading toward Dallas–Fort Worth and Mackenzie's nerves were getting the best of her. Already several trucks and cars had honked to urge her to go faster. She was hesitant to match the speed of the traffic, not sure her hands could keep her old car steady on the slick road.

“Mom,” Mackenzie said, trying to wedge her way into the conversation.

It was difficult to claw out of the pit of despair that had trapped Mackenzie for so long and Estelle's admonishments were only feeding into her apprehension about the storm, leaving Joshua, and the long trip to Kerrville. The anxiety attack at the cemetery still had a fierce grip on her thoughts. The grief counselor had warned of setbacks, but she wanted to be stronger than she felt. Listening to her mother carry on with yet another paranoid lecture was not helping. It was difficult to function when the world felt full of unseen dangers. The kind of dangers that killed your baby in your belly …

“… and if you have to stay at a hotel, if the proprietor is an Arab, you leave. They're all sleeper cell terrorists.…”

“Mom, I don't think that all Arabs are terrorists,” she said over her mother.

Estelle ignored her and kept talking.

Mackenzie switched lanes to let a construction truck pass. The rain was beginning to fall again and the car tires slid slightly. Her knuckles were white from strain. The world around her seemed increasingly dangerous and threatening.

“… and just you remember to not go over the speed limit. Those highway patrolmen are all rapists.…”

“Mom, enough! Stop it! Okay?”

The exit sign to US-79 loomed on the side of the road and Mackenzie impulsively switched on her turn signal. The Taurus glided off the busy interstate onto the off-ramp.

“I'm just trying to help you, Mackenzie. I love you.” Hurt filled Estelle's voice.

Mackenzie sighed, feeling the old familiar guilt. “I know, Mom. I just can't deal with any more stress today, okay? I'm getting off the interstate and taking the back roads.”

“But there are rednecks and—”

“Mom, I need peace of mind! The traffic and weather is just a little more than I can cope with right now. You do remember I signed the divorce papers and that I'm leaving Joshua behind, right?”

“I lost Joshua, too! I never even got to hold him! If only you had—”

“Mom!”

“You're barely twenty-six and already divorced, jobless, and homeless! How can I not worry about you? I'm your mother!” There was no way Estelle was going to let her daughter win this battle.

Relenting out of habit, Mackenzie said, “I know. I'm sorry. I'm just frazzled and need to get out of this traffic.”