GUILTY 6

AFTER Danniella Waters Friday May 19,2016 Winston walks through the front door at 10:06 a.m. He hangs up his jacket - it’s a fairly cool May morning - and walks right past me, down the hall, into our bedroom. I follow behind him, shuffling my feet as I make my way across the floor. He stands in front of the dresser, pulling his shirt over his head. I stand there for a moment in silence, allowing my eyes to linger on his bare back. He’s always been muscular. Staying in shape is a priority to Winston, even back when we first met. I remember how he’d set his alarm clock for six in the morning to go to the gym before class. The corners of my mouth curl upwards at the memory. He looks over at me, eyes sharp as daggers, and not a moment later, turns back towards the dresser, pulls open the top drawer, and grabs a blue polo neck. He slips it over his head, walks to the bathroom, then shuts the door behind him. He might as well have slammed it in my face. I’m not sure why he’s so angry with me. Does he honestly believe that I did something to our daughter? I shouldn’t be surprised, really. Things haven’t been the greatest with us for a while now. I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t to blame. He doesn’t look at me the way he used to. He doesn’t even touch me anymore. I can’t remember the last time we had sex. The last few months have been difficult, to say the least. But if he thinks it’s been hard, he’s clearly forgetting about what I’ve gone through. He can’t continue blaming me and acting as though I’m the bad guy. I can’t control what happened to me. I had a psychotic break. At least, that’s what the doctors said. I honestly don’t know what to think. I mean, a psychotic break makes sense. What else could explain my severe depression and excessive mood swings? I admit, I had ill feelings towards this pregnancy from the beginning. But simply not warning a child doesn’t cause extreme behavioural change - does it? It was a psychotic break. It wasn’t my fault. I love and appreciate Winston. I know how difficult it was for him to go through all of that with me. Especially while practically raising Emerald on his own as well as taking care of me. My parents came in from Delmas and stayed in the spare room for a few weeks while things were at its worst. At least that way Winston could get some sleep and not lose his own mind while trying to help me find mine. He was finally able to return back to work after the Christmas break in the beginning of January. That was a big deal for him, considering he owns the practice. People were continuously calling and rescheduling their appointments. But that is the sacrifice that he made for this family. I know how difficult it was for him and he stuck by my side. For better and for worst, right? That was our worst. But we made it past that. I got better. I began holding Emerald, feeding her - although I never could breastfeed - and spending more time with her. With constant watchful eyes from psychologists and the support from my family, I was able to make an almost - full recovery within four months. I’ve been pretty much independent these last two months. Back in the swing of things, returned to work, able to go grocery shopping and get my to - do lists accomplished. I still have to meet with Doctor Kelvin once a week. He’s been helping through the entire recovery process. Ensuring to restore my wellbeing. And he adores Emerald. I guess I’m learning to as well. Since I’m able to work from home twice a week, I usually keep Emerald in the play pen while I work at my desk. She doesn’t cry too often anymore, thank goodness. I think the crying was what drove me mad, That constant screeching sound, loud enough to break my eardrums. I don’t know how most mothers handle it. We have lunch - time and play - time around noon. She likes watching cartoons. She really loves music. Every time I look at her, I can see her resemblance to both Winston and me. Her eyes are a kaleidoscope of from brown to hazel. Her hair is a light, brown. She’ll be gorgeous in the making. I still can’t believe that she’s mine. The bathroom door opens and Winston emerges, brushing right past me and heading straight for the kitchen. I follow at his feet, finally grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around. ‘What are you doing?‘ I ask, trying to hide the despair in my voice. ‘What do you mean what am I doing? I’m going back out there.’ ‘Why are you being so distant?’ He closes his eyes and rubs his hands across his forehead. ‘I can’t do this right now.’ ‘What did I do to make you hate me so much?’ I yell. He opens his eyes and glares at me. ‘Do you really want me to answer that?’ My throat feels tight, the feeling when a cry is coming but you have to hold it in. ‘Winston,’ I choke. ‘What, Danny? What do you want from me?’ The tears form in my eyes, blurring my vision.’ I’m worried about her too, I’m every bit as worried as you ---’ ‘Are you, though? Are you really? Or are you secretly relishing in this?’ ‘How dare you!’ ‘I’m not doing this.’ He turns and begins to walk away. I follow after him. ‘Winston!’ I yell again, but he keeps walking. ‘You’re not going to find her out there!’ He stops in his tracks, then turns around slowly. ‘Why is that, Danny? Did you put her somewhere else?’ ‘What?’ I’m temporarily stunned by his question. ‘No, I … I just meant,’ I stutter. ‘She’s not going to be out on the streets waiting for you. What is the point of continuously going out there?’ ‘To find our daughter. At least I’m looking. That’s more than you can say you’re doing.’ I sit around for an hour or two, fiddling with objects and staring out windows. I feel lost and hopeless. But worst of all, I feel betrayed by my husband. I keep going through the list of names in my head. Anyone who could be a suspect. Anyone who may know something about the whereabouts of my daughter. This day feels surreal - like a terrible nightmare that I’m waiting to wake up from. It’s the sort of thing you see in the movies. But you never think that something like that could actually happen to you. How could it? One minute she was there, the next, she was gone. Vanished, As if into thin air. It just doesn’t make any sense. None of this makes sense. Who would want to take a baby? She’s innocent and has done nothing wrong. We as parents have done nothing wrong! Unless you count my psychotic break as something wrong. Could someone be punishing me? Taking away my child because they deem me unfit? Hundreds of thoughts race through my mind, and I picture some stranger watching me from a distance, taking notes about how irresponsible and heartless! I am, then sneaking into my home and taking Emerald. Could this be my fault? The doorbell rings and breaks me from my thoughts. I feel tears on my cheeks, so I quickly wipe them away with my sleeve before heading to the front door, I turn the lock and pull the door back in one swift motion. There stands my eldest brother. ‘Collin!’ I nearly cry as he takes a step forward and brings me into his arms. ‘Hi baby sis,’ he breathes into my hair. ‘How are you holding up?’ I pull away and look into his eyes. Dark brown, mirroring mine. ‘I’m alright,’ I sniffle. ‘Please, come in,’ I step back into the house and he walks in behind me. I close the door and we head to the kitchen. He takes a seat at the table and picks up the photograph of Emerald that’s sitting there. The same photo I gave to the police yesterday which they photocopied by the dozens and sent to every news outlet. ‘Wow,’ he smiles at the photo. ‘It’s been too long since I’ve seen her.’ ‘You Don’t come by enough.’ He looks up at me. ‘You’re right, I’m sorry.’ He places the photo back down on the table. His face is sombre, filled with sorrow and sympathy. ‘Have you spoken to mom and dad?’ I ask. ‘They’re catching the next flight back to Davenmore. Should be here by tonight.’ I nod my head and look down at my fingers, adjusting my ring up and down. My parents go to Durban for a few months every year. Usually they go in the winter - typical snow birds but since Emerald was due in November, they held off and decided to go later in the year. They flew out in April, once they were sure I was stable and could handle being on my own with Emerald. They haven’t been gone two months and they’re already having to cancel their plans and return home - always because of me. But this is out of my control. And to be quite honest, I need them now more than ever. ‘Have you heard from Liam?’ He asks. I let my eyes linger on my hands for a moment too long. Then I look up and meet his eyes. ‘No.’ He shakes his head in annoyance. I wish my answer could have been different. ‘When did you speak with him last?’ he asks me. I think about it. We spoke about month ago - I called him for his birthday. But I don’t want Collin knowing that I’ve been in frequent contact with our brother who neglects to speak to him. After the falling out a couple years ago, Liam barely speaks to either of us. He lives out in Springbok with his wife and two kids. Lianna got pregnant when she was twenty - two. They married and had a girl named Sophie. A year later she was pregnant again. A boy, Clayton, I only got to see them a couple of times before we all stopped speaking. It’s quite unfortunate, really. Siblings are supposed to be close with each other. They’re supposed to see each other every Christmas and have their children grow up as best friends. It would be so nice for Emerald to see her cousins once in a while. Collin and his wife, Jada, don’t have any children. It’s not something they’ve completely crossed off as I once did. But they said they’ll consider it when the time is right. Collin is 31, the same age as Winston, and Jada is 29, so they still have some time. Perhaps if they have a baby within the next year or so, Emerald will have a best friend. The fight was stupid. It was three years ago, when we were trying to organize my parent’s estate. There are always issues when money is involved, and for some reason, Liam wasn’t seeing eye - to - eye with Collin and me about the finances, our parent’s inheritance, even the funeral arrangements. He was arguing with us about everything. I didn’t even want to discuss these things in the first place. But my parents had insisted, if God forbid something happened to them sooner than later, we needed to have the estate sorted out. We went into it as a family, and came out angry and fighting with one another. It’s unfortunate that Liam still hasn’t moved on from this situation. He doesn’t speak with us, except rarely on occasion to check in or when he needs something. Typical. He prefers to be on his own, doing his thing. He has his own family now, out there, away from all of us, And that’s all he needs. But now I need him. And regardless of our past, I wish he’d just drop everything and come be here. ‘A couple of months ago,’ I lie as I turn around and open the fridge. ‘Do you want anything?’ ‘Water is fine. Did he say how the kids are doing?’ ‘They’re good. Sophie’s starting a pre - school programme in the new year.’ I take a glass from the cupboard and pour some water in, then slide it across the counter for Collin. He grabs it and takes a sip. ‘He hasn’t spoken to me in at least a year.’ He puts the glass back down. I bite my lip and tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear. ‘Perhaps mom and dad will talk to him. He has to come. He should be here.’ Collin nods. ‘Yeah, well, try telling him that. He’s a tough one to talk to.’ ‘Emerald is his niece. He should be here.’ ‘He hasn’t even met her, Collin. I’m sure he has other priorities.’ While what Collin says is true, the words still hurt. The fact that my own brother didn’t even come to see me while I went through hell. It makes me realize just how fucked up our familial situation truly is. ‘Hey,’ Collin says gently when he notices that I’m on the verge of tears, yet again. ‘Don’t let him get to you.’ I Sniffle and shake out my head. ‘You’re right. It’s fine, Mom and Dad will be here soon. And the police will find her. I know they will. They have everyone out looking for her.’ Collin gives me a reassuring smile. ‘They’ll find her.’ he says. At least I have one brother who cares.