But my eyes keep looking over the line, ‘first child.’
If I was her ‘first’ child, then there must have been a second. But I don’t remember anyone else. In my dreams, I have a brother whose name is Wade, but growing up there was never any mention of him, or even any pictures of him. So I always thought he was merely a dream, a fantasy I’d created to help me cope with all the bad times.
I scan the rest of Mom’s papers, looking for anything to tell me about any other child she had.
The next bundle is me, but I’m not interested in me, I need to find what else there is.
The last bundle has a newspaper article attached to the front with the heading, “Toddler dies in tragic accident.” I drop the rest of the papers and focus on this one article.
‘A heartbreaking accident has left a family in mourning when three-year-old Wade Anderson was hit by a car outside his family home. In a catastrophic turn of events, his father, Stanley Anderson, was the one who killed his son. He was driving home from work and Wade ran out the front of the car. Mr. Anderson, unable to stop the vehicle in time, collided with and instantly killed his son.’
I look up from the newspaper article and search for something, anything. “Are you okay?” Max asks as he sits beside me. I can hear him and I know he’s asked a question, but my brain can’t interpret what he’s asked, nor can I respond.
I look down at the newspaper article. ‘Liliana Anderson, Wade’s mother had ducked inside to check on the family’s older daughter, Lily, who had fallen and was calling out for her mother.’
“Oh my God.” I drop the paper and bring my hand to my mouth. “I remember. I remember everything.”
A movie is playing around in my mind, and I remember every moment; every sound, every smell, as if I’m living it right now. I stand from the sofa and absentmindedly walk over to the window overlooking the city. The lights of the city below twinkle beautifully as the harsh reality of the recovered memory plays in my head.
“Mom was outside with Wade and me, but I had to go to the toilet. We were playing in the backyard. Dad had made us a sandpit, and Wade, Mom and I were in it building sand castles.” I smile, remembering how cranky I got when Wade kept knocking my castles over. The warm sun was on my face, and Mom was laughing every time he’d put his little hand or foot through my castle.
“I went inside and went to the toilet while mom stayed outside with Wade. When I finished washing my hands, I slipped in the bathroom because I had splashed and there was water on the floor. I yelled out for Mom, because I’d hurt my elbow. She came rushing inside and while she was cleaning the cut, we heard a screeching of a car’s brakes.” Absentmindedly I begin rubbing my elbow, remembering the pain.
“Oh shit,” Max says. I look at him in surprise, momentarily stunned he’s still here with me.
Then I look back out over the city lights. “Mom went running out the front, and I was right behind her. Wade was lying under the car and Dad was on his knees, crying. Mom started screaming and crying, and I just stood there, not sure what was happening. The neighbors came out of their houses, looking to see what all the commotion was about. Before I even knew it, there were police and an ambulance there.”
“How did he go from the back to the front?”
“The side gate had a latch, if you moved it just right, it would open. Dad was always supposed to fix it, but he never did. That night was the worst night of my life. They told me Wade had died. A few days later we buried Wade with his favorite teddy bear, and I gave him my favorite socks. He always wanted to wear them. That was the night everything changed at home.”
“How old were you, Lily?”
“I was six years old.”
“How did it change?”
“We were sitting at the table having dinner, and Mom was a mess. I remember her eyes were always red from the tears. But Mom said to me that night, ‘if you hadn’t screamed for me, he’d still be alive. It should’ve been you who died. From now on, we’ll feed you, but don’t think we’ll ever love you.’ She stopped crying when she said that to me, and from that day on, I was never talked to again.”
“Oh my God.”
The next thing I feel is Max’s warm body against mine. He’s holding me, giving me support in any way he can. “From the time I was six, until only very recently, I’ve never been part of a family. I’ve never been loved; I’ve never been wanted.”
“That’s because they weren’t worthy of your love. It was a heartbreaking accident, they shouldn’t have treated you the way they did. You were only a child, and none of that was your fault.”