Off the Deep End (81)

But I’ll never forget the night I conceived and how magical it was no matter what anybody says or does to taint it. I’ve stored every single one of the details in my heart just like Mary did after she had Jesus. We read the story every season at Christmas, and I’ve never understood it more than I do now. My situation is no comparison to a virgin birth, obviously, but getting pregnant from one attempt after so many other heartbreaking tries in my life and at my age is pretty miraculous, nonetheless. That’s why I know it’s meant to be.

I gave Isaac his privacy in the bathroom so that he could accomplish what he needed to. He’d been so gracious in agreeing to help me even though it was such an awkward request, but that’s how we did things. I helped him with his school project—he helped me with mine.

I believe in giving kids their space, so I only knocked at the door twice to check on him. I didn’t want the magic fluid out of his body for too long before it was in mine.

“Isaac, honey? Everything going okay in there?” I wasn’t sure exactly how to ask. I didn’t want to do anything to embarrass him, and he’d been so incredibly touchy lately. He was such a moody teenager, but I couldn’t blame him. He’d been through so much. I gave him the same grace with his intense and unpredictable emotions that he gave me. That’s why we worked so well together.

“Everything’s fine,” he mumbled from behind the door. “I’ll be done in a second.”

We’d been planning tonight for weeks. I hadn’t felt like this since I was a kid the night before Christmas. He wasn’t nearly as excited as me and couldn’t wait to get it over with so he could go hang out with the new friend he’d made, but that didn’t matter to me as long as we got the job done. I couldn’t wait to get him upstairs, and I’d quickly ushered him inside.

It wasn’t hard to sneak him in. Girls snuck their boyfriends in all the time thanks to Hank. He worked overnights two nights a week and spent most of his shift sleeping. Also, there were plenty of people who worked the late-night shift and didn’t get home until after midnight, so staff expected there to be a certain amount of activity around then. That was when all the overnight visitors made their way inside unseen. Isaac was no different that night. I explain the entire system to Dr. Stephens.

“It wasn’t like the staff cared that much anyway,” I say after I’m finished. “People were caught on a regular basis, and all they did was take their privileges away. Basically, grounded them for a week by making them stay inside the house. It was different for me, though. I didn’t think they’d turn a blind eye to Isaac since he was a minor. Our stakes were higher, but it was definitely worth it.”

“So, why’d you do it?”

“Because I knew it was the thing that would save us both,” I explain. He’s giving me one of those looks like I have two heads and one of them has a horn growing out of it. I wrinkle my face at him.

“Save you from what?”

“Ourselves.” Hasn’t he been listening to anything I’ve been saying? “Everyone needs a reason to live, or you can’t stay alive. We kept each other alive. Our job was to create life, and in the beginning, that was enough.” I pause for a second, remembering what it used to be like. “But after a while, it started to fade, so that’s when we decided”—I rub my stomach and give him a huge grin—“to create this beautiful life. A reason for both of us to stay alive.”

“Except Isaac tried to kill himself. Seems like the plan backfired.”

Sadness tries to weigh down my face, but I won’t let it. I’ve worked too hard putting myself back together. “Isaac made his choice, and everyone’s entitled to them.”

“Did you know what he was going to do?” It’s a logical question. Everyone assumes I played a role in his disappearance and attack on the school no matter how many times I deny it. Despite my denial and the fact that there’s no evidence to support it, nobody believes me. That’s okay, though. His is the only opinion I care about.

“I swear I had no idea what he was planning. I was always worried about Isaac hurting himself, and so much of our relationship was spent just trying to keep him from going there. It’s why I showed up at his house that day. I was there to save him. Not hurt him. I—”

Dr. Stephens cuts in. “The day you broke the window at the Greers? Is that what you’re referring to?”

I nod. “Isaac was extremely angry and suicidal. He’d been that way since the first day he came to visit me in the hospital. So much of our relationship was me trying to save him from himself. It’s like I told you before: that was the first time I felt like I had a purpose and a connection since Gabe died. I was determined not to let him do what I’d done.” That’s what happens after you’ve put your car on the train tracks. You recognize the signs in others. “He’d taken pills from his doctor before, and his last message to me had been so cryptic and laced with threat that I knew he was planning something that day, and I had to stop him.”

“Why not tell his parents?”

“He’d never trust me again if I did that, and I needed him to trust me. I was the only person he had. If I had known that his plans included trying to blow up his high school, I promise you that I would’ve said something. Not just to you. I would’ve told the police too. I had no idea he was capable of that kind of violence. I was always afraid of him hurting himself, but it’d never once occurred to me that he’d hurt someone else.” I still can’t wrap my brain around that one. Never in a million years would I have predicted that Isaac was capable of hurting another person on purpose and in such a violent way. I’m not going to lie; it makes me a little nervous about the life I’m carrying inside me since they’ll have half of Isaac’s DNA. Are violence and aggression inheritable traits? It’s been so long since graduate school and my studies on psychopathology that I can’t remember.