#dad-caleb

When the sundowning started you started relying on Kiaya’s friends parents to help, refusing to leave the hospital until Zayne started forcing you to go home to shower and sleep whenever it got bad.  That was when you started to try to contact Caleb.  You knew he’d still be in comms black out but there were emergency protocols, you contacted his chain of command and asked them to inform him of the situation.  You had enough experience to know he couldn’t come home just because she was ill but you wanted him to know, and you wanted his commanders to have the warning.

When she was no longer lucid Zayne stopped making you leave, his parents came to town and stayed with Kiaya while you stayed in the hospital indulging whatever Gran was saying, trying not to think too deeply about some of it.  When she passed in her sleep you were awake, holding her hand and you’d held it together.  You’d watched her quick decline, known her mind when she’d been well and there had been a level of relief that she was at peace now.

You had cried, of course, and Zayne had sat with you while you did.  Still holding her hand while the nurses turned off machines and unhooked lines. You’d sat in your chair next to her bed, your head down on the pillow near her watching it all happen as tears softly fell.  Zayne’s hand a steady pressure between our shoulders as he stood quietly next to you.

You’d made a list in your head of all the things you’d have to do now that it was over and you knew the moment you had the death certificate you’d have to call Caleb.

That thought had come with dread.

You hadn’t heard from him since he’d left.  He’d been supposed to be accessible weeks ago and he hadn’t emailed or called, or even opened anything you’d sent.  His chain of command had been frustratingly unhelpful with one officer even suggesting that perhaps he simply didn’t want to talk to a clingy ex .  

You’d signed off with the mortuary, knowing everything you needed from Gran’s home had already been packed and brought to your apartment by Zayne’s parents and collected the death certificate so you could contact Caleb and begin closing her accounts You go home for the first time in weeks to take the hottest shower humanly possible and sleep until Kiaya gets home from school.

Zayne’s parents leave your house clean and your fridge full and Gran’s things in a neat organized stack on your table.

They’ve already told Kiaya and you can’t find it in you to be upset about that. She was 13 and it had not been sudden.

“So does this mean Dad is coming home early?” She asks.

“It might,” is all you can say.  Still none of the messages you've sent have been opened.  When you’d called Command to find out who to send a copy of the death certificate to they’d become suspiciously docile and insisted they’d call you back.

The dread hits you hard when they finally get back to you.  Something tells you to answer the phone outside, where Kiaya can’t hear, and you’re glad for whatever higher power granted you that premonition because this is where you fall apart.

You answer the phone tucked into the corner where you know you’re hidden by a potted plant and a sheer curtain.  It takes a moment for the words to register when they start talking.  Telling you that this information is still not public but given your current situation Command had decided to grant you temporary spousal privileges .  You remember thinking that they sounded like they thought they were doing you a favor.

You know the officer assigned to make this call.  You’d been in classes with him when you and Caleb had attended the academy. The words he’s saying try so hard to slip through your fingers.  You try so hard to let them.

“-days grace for return to communication but we are now long past that.  We have had both civilian and DAA ships in the area and along the route they had been assigned to on alert for the ship but there has been no contact.  At this point the crew are in the process of being declared MIA.”

“They’re what?” You ask, even though you know what he said.

“They are all being declared missing in action Miss,” he repeats.  As a Cadet you’d ranked higher than him.  You want to scold him despite having no authority in this situation. “As I said this is not public information, there will be another one to two weeks before we officially declare the ship lost.”

“Do spousal privileges allow me any information on the mission?” You find yourself asking.

“What information would you ask for?”

“What was the danger assessment, what is the likelihood that their mission ended in total loss or detainment?”  You ask.

You can hear the line muted and you can feel your breathing quicken  There’s no answer to that question that you want.  No matter what they can tell you nothing good comes from knowing whatever information he could tell you.

“They’re declaring them missing, not dead,” he says as if that is a positive.

“Fuck,” is all you say.  You think he is probably the one that hung up the phone, you don’t remember.  You don’t remember when you sat on the cold concrete of your balcony floor, and you don’t remember how long you sobbed before Xavier was in front of you.  Your lips are bitten raw and your eyes are swollen nearly shut when he finally settles you down.

When he gets you inside Zayne is with Kiaya and while Xavier assumes that you’re obviously upset about Gran, Zayne immediately senses that something else has happened.  You sit numbly on the floor while he calls his parents and gives them Xavier’s apartment number.  You can see Kiaya’s bag already packed and sitting by the door and it takes every ounce of willpower to not break again when she hugs you goodbye.

“What happened to Caleb?” Zayne asks when the door shuts behind them.

You crumple again.  Your remaining best friend catches you before you hit the floor and tugs you into his lap as he sits.  He cradles you like a child against his chest and waits until you can explain.  The air chills around you when you tell him, you can feel the frost forming on his arms where they’re wrapped around you.  Zayne rarely loses control around you and you almost expect the tears to be frozen on his face.

You take a moment to catch your breath before you extract yourself from his arms and tug him up behind you.  You turn the shower on high heat and bully him down to his boxers and a tshirt before doing the same yourself and shove him in to sit underneath the shower with you.  Something the three of you had done as kids when he’d lose control.

You sit in the shower holding each other together as you feel your world fall apart and try to figure out how to explain to your daughter that not only was her grandmother gone, so was her father.

But you figure it out and life goes on.

A year later you’re standing outside staring at the doors to the Hunter’s association when you realize what day it is.  You know without looking that the notifications on your phone are Xavier wondering if you’re there yet and, now that you’ve noticed the date you know exactly why he sent you on this little errand.  

You can’t walk into that building today. That’s not your sweet neighbor’s fault. He might know what today is but he doesn’t know the lore. 

You take a deep breath before you look at your phone.

“There it is,” you mumble under your breath.

Between the texts from Xavier asking if you’d found the book he’d asked you to bring to him and if you’d made it to the building yet, is a text from Zayne.  

[Dr. Crybaby]: Did you forget your appointment today? [Me]: I don’t have an appointment today, Yivonne didn’t send a reminder. [Dr. Crybaby]: You’ll always have an appointment today.

You don’t answer him. You’ll deal with your well meaning friends one at a time.  Xavier is closer and has less context outside of the obvious, Zayne can wait.

[Me]: Meet me across the street? [Plant Dad]: ?? [Me]: I’ll buy you a hot chocolate [Plant Dad]: Give me two minutes

You’ve barely put your order in before Xavier is standing behind you. A soft hey called out so you don’t jump when he touches your elbow.  “Have you sat yet?” He asks when you turn and smile.

“No, I just ordered.”

He doesn’t wait for you to say anything else, he takes the tote bag off your shoulder and leads you to one of the quiet booths at the back of the cafe.  “Did you order anything to eat?”

“Not for us,” you say. “I can’t stay long, I ordered a tea and Macarons for Doctor Zayne.”

Xavier nods. “Good, that’s good.  You’re busy today?”

You smile.  It’s a habit you’ve fallen back on over the last year, smiling when you think you might cry.  A habit developed during what you thought was the worst year of your life, that was before last year. “I didn’t think it was going to be,” you admit. “But I guess plans were made.”

Xavier nods.

You inhale deeply and watch his eyes flick up to you.  He opens his mouth to speak but the barista calls your name and he jumps up to collect your order.

“You don’t have to do that,” you say when he sits back down.

“I know,” he smiles.

You shake your head and try to organize your thoughts.  Xavier is always so kind to you.  

When you’d moved into the building he’d helped you carry boxes upstairs before he’d even known your name.  You’d watered his plants when he was away and he’d done the same for you.  You both read the same books and your unofficial book club had gotten you through the worst of the last year and he’d checked in every night for two weeks when the DAA had contacted you last month.

“I mean,” you press your lips together. “I appreciate that you wanted to distract me, it’s just-” you trail off not sure how to word what you want to say without saying more than you want to.

“Was I that transparent?” He looks sheepish when he says it.

“No,” you tell him honestly. “I didn’t really-” you trail off again.  “Did you know,” you decide to rip the bandaid off.  “I was supposed to be a hunter?”

Xavier’s eyes flick up and stay on you. “You were?”

“I was accepted to the academy,” you nod.

“Changed your mind?” He asks.

You laugh.  Xavier is so childlike, yet there’s a drawer full of awards and medals in his apartment that suggests he’s one of the top hunters working right now.  It’s an interesting dichotomy. “No, I had to drop out.”

He nods again. “It’s a really intense program.”

You laugh, genuine and full.  People around you turn to look and you quickly apologize. “Sorry,” you say to Xavier’s frown. Your neighbor knows you as three very specific things; an art teacher, a woman who indulges in granny crafts, and a mom the cooks homemade meals and bakes from scratch.  Nothing about your interactions would suggest anything else.

“I made top marks,” you say with more than a little pride. “My marksmen scores broke records, I have awards.”

You watch the wheels in his head turn as he puts it all together.  “Kiaya?”

You nod. “Mmhm.”

“When is your appointment?” He asks.

You shrug. “Whenever I show up I think.”

“I am not the only person keeping you busy today, I guess.”

You laugh.  “No, I guess not.”

You stay long enough for him to finish his hot chocolate and he makes a point to leave first.  You pretend you don’t notice the refund notification on your phone.  It’s obvious he’ll do what he wants, including refunding your cafe orders so he can pay instead, and as much as it irks you, you know you shouldn’t complain that people in your life want to care for you.  Especially not when they do so despite how difficult you make it for them.

You call a car and send Zayne a text to warn him that you’re on your way and try not to think about the elephant in the room.  You watch the buildings blur past through the window of the car, the sky a bright blue and cloudless.  The world moves on, even if you cannot.

You pretend not to notice the sad smile that Yivonne gives you as you walk by her desk.  You’re long past checking in, and she’d stop you if Zayne was with a patient, or in a meeting so you slip quickly past and inside the room.

Zayne has his back to you, hanging his lap coat up when you enter.  “Give me your hand,” he says as he turns.

You pout but do what he asks.  You watch him check your pulse, eyebrows knitting together as he stares at his watch.  He tugs you a little before he lets your wrist go and gestures you to step closer.  You don’t fight him anymore.  He pulls the stethoscope from around his neck and listens to your heart and your breathing, mumbles something under his breath and nods to himself.

“You’re not over doing it?” He asks making a note on his computer without sitting down.

“Just the usual,” you shrug.

“So the answer is, yes?” 

You roll your eyes. “I took the stairs.”  

He straightens up and puts on his jacket.  “You took longer than I anticipated.”

“I can explain,” you say holding out the bag of sweets.

You watch him try not to smile. “I suppose I can forgive you but, Kiaya is finished school soon, yes?”

“Zayne,” you say softly.

“We’ll pick her up on our way,” he nods to himself holding the door for you.

“ Zayne ,” you say again, firmer.

He looks at you to continue but makes no move to slow his momentum.

“I just want today to be normal,” you tell him.

“Are you expecting me to do something unusual?” He frowns.

You sigh. “You know what I mean.”

“It’s not healthy to ignore grief,” he admonishes you as if he has ever taken his own advice.

“I’m not ignoring grief and neither is she,” you have to walk fast to keep up.  “We lost Granny and her Dad was declared MIA the same day, I don’t want to draw attention to it.”

Zayne opens the door of his car for you.  “I’m not-”

You shoot him a look that follows him through the windshield as he walks around to the drivers side.  “It’s bad enough that, apropos of nothing, they declared him dead a month ago. I’m not making today a thing, I’m not doing anything out of the ordinary.  Today is going to be a regular day.”

He says nothing but, you watch him pull out his phone, and decide to check your own texts.

[Creature]: What if instead of math class I eat broken glass? [Me]: What if instead of texting me, you were paying attention in math class? [Creature]: You know who wouldn’t make me do math? [Me]: Santa? [Creature]: Xavier. [Me]: Can’t argue with that, you still have to finish math class [Creature]: This is abuse I fear [Me]: Well I’ll let Zayne know and you can take the bus home I fear [Creature]: I’m suddenly so invested in this math class [Me]: That’s what I thought

When you look up Zayne is waiting. “We’ll pick Kiaya up and I’ll cook.”

“We’ll pick Kiaya up and you’ll order in,” you counter.

“Y/N,” he starts to scold.

“I have groceries but you are not cooking in my home again all you do is complain about the quality of my cookware,” you laugh.

“Your entire kitchen was stocked in a dollar store even though I know you can afford grown up cookware,” he scoffs.

At the school Zayne manages to find a parking spot primed for a quick escape.  You watch your daughter and her friends leave the school from a side door.  You watch her gesture for her friends to follow and wait.  

Zayne rolls down his window when one of them knocks.

“Damn Kiaya, your Mom has a Sugar Daddy?” One of the kids says.

“I’m not-” Zayne starts.

“He’s a Doctor!” The one that knocked yells, noticing his badge hanging from the rear view.

“A heart surgeon,” you clarify as Zayne turns to scowl at you.

“Get that money, Ms. Y/N,” the third calls.

“Gross,” Kiaya says getting in the car. “Uncle Zayne has higher standards than my Mom.”

“Maybe I have higher standards than your Uncle Zayne,” you defend yourself.

“Mom,” Kiaya says as her friends turn away.  “You’re standards aren’t that high, I know what Dad looked like in college.”

Zayne snorts.

“And that is why we’re ordering in,” you laugh.  “I get roasted in my own house enough, thanks.”

After Zayne and Kiaya argue about where to order from you stuff your faces with the spoils of compromise and watching trash TV for a few hours until your daughter disappears to her room and you Zayne start cleaning up.  It’s so easy to just exist together after knowing each other so long.  He simply stands and you follow.  Occasionally trading jokes, or reminders.  He makes notes on the to-do list you keep on your fridge as if he lives here.

There was a time that you thought this could be your life.  When your health had been worse and Zayne had been there, the lines had blurred for a while. 

When Zayne had left for school you joked that he’d been 90% of your impulse control, and while nothing romantic had ever existed between you and Caleb the two of you would joke that if Zayne had never left Kiaya wouldn’t exist, he would have talked the two of you out of casually sleeping together.

But Zayne had left and you had slept with Caleb, and once you’d reconnected it had been Caleb who had supported the two of you spending time together, encouraged it even.  Nothing had ever come of it beyond one clumsy kiss after a single glass of wine.  Zayne was your best friend, no more, no less.

“Have you resonated recently?” Zayne asks, unprompted, while you load the dishwasher.

“When would I have the opportunity?” You laugh.

“You continue to train,” he shrugs. “I assume you would use your evol.”

“Zayne, I take kick boxing lessons, when would I use evol kicking a heavy bag?” 

He shrugs.  “Perhaps you should talk to your friend with the Hunters Association, he may have information for you that could help.”

“Ok, wait.  Can we start this conversation at the beginning?  I feel like I missed something.  Is there a reason I should be training my evol or resonating regularly?”

Zayne frowns and leans against the counter.  “I don’t think it’s unreasonable to practice your skills.  You continue to practice hand to hand skills and I know you’ve maintained your marksmanship skills.”

“Ok, but I don’t train with staffs or blades anymore,” you counter.  “My evol is only really useful in combat, I can’t do cute tricks like you or Xavier.”

He nods.  “Of course I understand.  I was simply curious for scientific reasons.”

You narrow your eyes at him.  

“If it’s not offensive to you, I may include it in your next evaluation.”

You raise your eyebrows and nod.  He drops it.

Later that night you lean against the wall while he puts on his shoes and say your goodbyes.  He wraps you up in a tight hug and tells you not to be late to your check up in a few weeks before he leaves and you’re alone.  Kiaya is asleep, there’s no shuffling sounds from your upstairs neighbor, simply you and your thoughts.

It’s not difficult once you’re alone in your quiet living room to find Zayne’s train of thought.  He was probably struck by the same nostalgia you’ve been resisting all day.  Despite his clumsy attempts to justify the question you used to resonate for fun.  You used to resonate with him for fun specifically, teaming up to make snow balls to throw at or drop on Caleb as revenge for whatever pranks he’d pulled on one or both of you.

Or when you’d been even younger resonating with Caleb when the kids at school had teased you for being an orphan or him for being small. Zayne always playing the peacemaker then though you could see the anger behind his eyes.

You shower and you try not to think about sitting on the shower floor with Zayne while you both processed the loss of your best friend.  You change for bed and you try not to think about Caleb laying face down in the middle complaining about one of the officers he reports to, or drunk accusing you of cheating at Pile it Up.  You wonder if he’d complained about the same officer who’d called you back that night, trying to trade grief for anger. 

A month ago you’d received notice, by email, it was a confirmation that Caleb and the rest of the crew for the ship he’d been piloting had been declared deceased.  It was worded as a follow up, and after several rounds of phone tag a frustrated officer had called you back.  Irritated as he tried to tell you that spousal privilege had only been temporarily granted.  You were not owed any of this information, he’d told you while seething, you were lucky you accidentally received the email.

You’d asked him what privileges Caleb’s daughter was afforded in this situation and hung up before he could answer.

A much more affable member of staff had called you back.

Nothing mattered, nothing changed.  A few weeks after the missing ship had been reported to the media parts of the it had been recovered in a resale lot.  It was only functional mechanical parts, nothing they could use to determine what had happened.  Still no bodies recovered, still no sightings.  As far as you were concerned DAA had decided it was cheaper to take the hit to their insurance premiums than to continue to pay the families who’d lost children, partners and parents.

You hadn’t told Kiaya.  The life insurance money goes into a trust until she’s 18, nothing else about the situation has changed, there’s no new information, just undamaged parts from the ship that you’d have known about last year if you’d had a conventional relationship with the father of your child.  

When you eventually fall asleep you dream that Caleb is alive and the last year was a nightmare.  

You dream a normal uneventful day.  Kiaya goes to sleep, you go to work.  Caleb meets you and Zayne for lunch, he makes bad jokes and the three of you laugh about the nightmare you’d had.  He picks Kiaya up from school and is cooking dinner when you get home from work.  You fall asleep on the couch while he watches shows about hauntings and wake up to him draping a blanket over you, his jacket already on, before he goes back to his own apartment.