WHO: Theo Wolfe WHEN: Late August, 2014 WHERE: His home SUMMARY: With the house empty of family and friends for the first time since he was called to the hospital, Theo tries to wrap his head around the situation and makes some promises to his daughter. WARNINGS: Loss of a spouse. Pretty sad, because that's how I roll.
Theo could hear the quiet hum of his mother's car outside, see the way way it backed out of his driveway onto North Drive as he peered through the front window of the house. It seemed to delay there for longer than it should have. Perhaps she was debating whether or not she ought to actually leave. Perhaps she was considering pulling right back into the driveway, then walking inside to declare that she was just going to make him dinner and then she would be out of his hair. Perhaps she just needed a moment to breathe. Whatever it was she was thinking or considering, Theo would never know as eventually she put the car into drive and was gone.
For the first time in over a week, Theo was alone.
He stood in the living room, at a complete loss as to what it was he was meant to do next. The house was still, more quiet than he had ever heard it before. The dog was laying down in his bed in the corner, his eyes staring at the front door as he waited fruitlessly for it to open. There was no music or keyboard tapping coming from the office, the telltale sound of medical texts being studied and papers being written. The television was off, no random Netflix documentary playing that would be discussed and debated over later. There was no humming or soft singing in the kitchen, as dishes and pots and pans were disturbed to make whatever meal was quickest. The air was too still, the constant motion of a woman that had mastered the art of multitasking absent. There were no gentle kisses or soft touches as she breezed by, always moving, always on a mission.
Theo's head bowed forward, looking down to his hands. His wedding ring glinted in the soft glow of the lamp in the corner, a lamp that had been painstakingly chosen at Ikea by an eye that would no longer appreciate it. He inhaled deeply, unsure how his chest could feel so empty and hollow when it was filled with air.
From the moment he had sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair at the hospital, someone had been by Theo's side. His parents had been quick to arrive, his mother taking Zoe from him as his father just wrapped his arms around him tightly. They had been with him when he spoke to his in-laws, then helped him plan a funeral that he should have never had to plan, not for fifty, sixty, seventy years. His siblings had been a distraction when needed, a bringer of food without being asked, or simply just sat with their older brother, sometimes holding his hand as he stared at nothing. Friends and family that ranged from those he knew best to those he didn't know at all had all reached out, giving their condolences and asking him to reach out if he needed anything, as though he'd know what he needed to ask for it at all.
It had been a different kind of motion. There was always someone there, watching him, prodding him, trying to make sure he was all right. He wasn't, of course. He didn't know if he ever would be. But somewhere, deep down within Theo in a place that wasn't entirely numb, he was thankful for their attempts, for their presence.
Now, though, he was alone.
Except, that wasn't entirely true. As Theo stared at his fingers for what might have been seconds or days, as time hardly seemed to matter in the moment, a shrill cry broke the silence of the house. Immediately, the sound broke his trance, his eyes focusing and his body moving, the instinct of a father taking over, no matter how new he was at the job.
Theo walked through the house, his gaze averting away from the closed door that led to the study, and found himself in the nursery. Surrounded by stuffed animals, he ducked around the mobile of moons and stars to scoop his tiny daughter up and into his arms. Gradually, she began to calm, but she didn't quiet completely until Theo had prepared the bottle in the kitchen, then sat back down in the living room, Zoe held close to his chest as he fed her.
Hardly a week ago and it would have been Theresa doing this, feeding their daughter as Theo wrapped a blanket around her shoulders or fetched her water or did literally anything he could to aid his wife. Now it was just him. He was the one that would check on her when she cried. He was the one that would witness the first time she crawled across the carpet or took her first wobbly step. He was the one that would hear her first word. He would dress her, potty train her, be the recipient of any drawings she would someday create. He would learn how to put her hair into a ponytail or braid, what foods she loved best, what graced her dreams and haunted her nightmares. He would do it all, because he was all she had left.
As Zoe finished the bottle, Theo watched as her eyes grew heavy. In the last week, it had been his daughter that had been the only reason he could find to move, to spring to action in any way. When he needed her, there was no hesitation. His own needs had required prompting for him to take care of, but Zoe was his reason for leaving the couch at all -- the couch, as he had not yet been able to lay in his bed that would still smell of Theresa and be too empty.
Theo set the bottle aside. His hand rose, fingers gentle as they brushed over the impossibly soft brown hair that was starting to curl at the ends. Zoe's eyes had drifted closed, sleep overtaking her once more as her belly was full.
"I'm with you, my little princess." The words were barely over a murmur, not even loud enough for the infant's eyes to flutter. "I'll always be with you. I'm here. I promise, Zoe. I'm with you."
It was a dangerous promise to make, especially as they had learned too painfully that it was not one that could be guaranteed. It didn't stop Theo from making it, though. He felt the pressure at his eyes, but he didn't move as the tears began to flow. There had only been a few moments when he had cried; that first hug from his father, during a moment when it had been just him and Max, another when Jordan had caught him unaware, when the casket had been lowered. It had felt important that he remain strong when surrounded by people, but now he was alone -- alone with the one person that mattered most.
"I'm here," Theo repeated, his voice cracking on the words. Even with her fast asleep, it felt important to say. Even though he knew she wouldn't understand the meaning behind the words even if he was awake, it felt necessary. He needed her to know, because it was the only comfort he could give. A wife and mother had been stolen from them, but they still had one another -- and he would always, always be there for her.