Part One
Jason
“Look up at me and keep your eyes open.”
“Jeez, you’re so bossy tonight.”
Rach stuck her tongue out at me. “Do you want eyeliner in your eye?”
I laughed, but it wasn’t really with humor.
“Don’t laugh; I can’t do this if you’re laughing.”
To be fair her hands were really shaking, they had her on so many meds since her melt-down, her body was having difficulty functioning, but she was determined to get out tonight; no way was she missing Saint’s first Halloween. She was doing her, I-have-to-do-this-because-this-is-what-moms-should-do-with-their-kids thing, even though Saint wasn’t even one. He wouldn’t know or care if he’d been out trick or treating.
“Jason. Concentrate. Sit still and look up for a moment.”
I did. The eyeliner pencil trembled along my lower eyelid.
We were going out as a zombie bride and groom. She had me covered in white powder paint, and then she had red smeared around my neck and mouth. She was powdered white too, her lips were really red, and she’d painted a slash on her face with dripping blood, plus she had loads of gray eye shadow under her eyes, and thick mascara and eyeliner. She put the eyeliner down and reached for the eye shadow.
“Keep looking up.” She dabbed it beneath my eyes then smeared it with her thumb. “There… ” She put the eye shadow and picked up the mascara.
“Uh-uh, I don’t need that.”
“You do, you’re eyelashes are too pale, they have some of the powder on them.”
“Oh crap, go on then, only don’t tell a soul you’ve gotten me wearing mascara.”
She laughed, awkwardly, as she brushed it on my quivering eyelashes, her hand shaking. Her laugh was never quite there these days, that’s what was knocking my mood back.
“Careful I don’t want that thing in my eye.”
She laughed awkwardly again.
Behind us Saint was in his crib, gurgling and kicking his legs up at the toy that hung over his head. He’d just been fed and he was full up, happy and full of life, and ready to go out trick or treating in his little pumpkin suit.
Rach leaned back and looked at the creation she’d made of my face. “There, you look awesome. I’ll get your wig.”
I looked in the mirror; the make-up did look pretty cool. She returned with my shaggy, dark haired wig, and slipped it on carefully so it didn’t mess up the make-up. The thing immediately started itching.
I’d put on costumes for Halloween before, but I had never gone this all-out.
I stood up and lifted my arms zombie style to grab her. She screamed and ducked back laughing in a way that sounded a little more real. “You can’t kiss me, you’ll ruin the make-up!”
I laughed, just because I was glad I’d made her laugh more, and grabbed her around the waist, lifting her off her feet and spinning her a little, then I set her down.
The emotion inside me was like a brewing volcano, A few weeks back I’d nearly lost her, she’d nearly killed herself and she’d nearly hurt Saint… but not deliberately. Her bipolar had hit an overdrive button into an extreme high, then crashed to an unbelievable low; she’d just gone down. She’d been up and down for months, because she’d given up the drugs to breast feed, and it had been like riding on a rollercoaster, but then it had suddenly rocketed way to high and she’d just flipped completely. She’d turned into someone I didn’t know, and then she’d taken an immediate rollercoaster sized dip down. She’d had to go into hospital to straighten out. Then when she had come out she’d been so drugged up there was no talking to her.
But my Rach was coming back to me now—slowly. Peeping through the shadows of the meds.
She was laughing again, and the sound of her laugh gripped at my soul, even if sometimes it did sound awkward. That was why I didn’t mind letting her put mascara on me. I was glad she was here to put mascara on me… and glad she was up for going out tonight.
All week I’d been
Jason
“Look up at me and keep your eyes open.”
“Jeez, you’re so bossy tonight.”
Rach stuck her tongue out at me. “Do you want eyeliner in your eye?”
I laughed, but it wasn’t really with humor.
“Don’t laugh; I can’t do this if you’re laughing.”
To be fair her hands were really shaking, they had her on so many meds since her melt-down, her body was having difficulty functioning, but she was determined to get out tonight; no way was she missing Saint’s first Halloween. She was doing her, I-have-to-do-this-because-this-is-what-moms-should-do-with-their-kids thing, even though Saint wasn’t even one. He wouldn’t know or care if he’d been out trick or treating.
“Jason. Concentrate. Sit still and look up for a moment.”
I did. The eyeliner pencil trembled along my lower eyelid.
We were going out as a zombie bride and groom. She had me covered in white powder paint, and then she had red smeared around my neck and mouth. She was powdered white too, her lips were really red, and she’d painted a slash on her face with dripping blood, plus she had loads of gray eye shadow under her eyes, and thick mascara and eyeliner. She put the eyeliner down and reached for the eye shadow.
“Keep looking up.” She dabbed it beneath my eyes then smeared it with her thumb. “There… ” She put the eye shadow and picked up the mascara.
“Uh-uh, I don’t need that.”
“You do, you’re eyelashes are too pale, they have some of the powder on them.”
“Oh crap, go on then, only don’t tell a soul you’ve gotten me wearing mascara.”
She laughed, awkwardly, as she brushed it on my quivering eyelashes, her hand shaking. Her laugh was never quite there these days, that’s what was knocking my mood back.
“Careful I don’t want that thing in my eye.”
She laughed awkwardly again.
Behind us Saint was in his crib, gurgling and kicking his legs up at the toy that hung over his head. He’d just been fed and he was full up, happy and full of life, and ready to go out trick or treating in his little pumpkin suit.
Rach leaned back and looked at the creation she’d made of my face. “There, you look awesome. I’ll get your wig.”
I looked in the mirror; the make-up did look pretty cool. She returned with my shaggy, dark haired wig, and slipped it on carefully so it didn’t mess up the make-up. The thing immediately started itching.
I’d put on costumes for Halloween before, but I had never gone this all-out.
I stood up and lifted my arms zombie style to grab her. She screamed and ducked back laughing in a way that sounded a little more real. “You can’t kiss me, you’ll ruin the make-up!”
I laughed, just because I was glad I’d made her laugh more, and grabbed her around the waist, lifting her off her feet and spinning her a little, then I set her down.
The emotion inside me was like a brewing volcano, A few weeks back I’d nearly lost her, she’d nearly killed herself and she’d nearly hurt Saint… but not deliberately. Her bipolar had hit an overdrive button into an extreme high, then crashed to an unbelievable low; she’d just gone down. She’d been up and down for months, because she’d given up the drugs to breast feed, and it had been like riding on a rollercoaster, but then it had suddenly rocketed way to high and she’d just flipped completely. She’d turned into someone I didn’t know, and then she’d taken an immediate rollercoaster sized dip down. She’d had to go into hospital to straighten out. Then when she had come out she’d been so drugged up there was no talking to her.
But my Rach was coming back to me now—slowly. Peeping through the shadows of the meds.
She was laughing again, and the sound of her laugh gripped at my soul, even if sometimes it did sound awkward. That was why I didn’t mind letting her put mascara on me. I was glad she was here to put mascara on me… and glad she was up for going out tonight.
All week I’d been
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