Page 12 of Resurrect Me

She frowns. “What do you mean, they didn’t take prints?”

“Exactly what I said,” I sigh. “They said it was probably someone looking to steal identities. That’s all. Didn’t take photos of the scene either. I’m beginning to think the cops don’t like the Rountrees very much.”

She clears her throat and leans back on the couch. Then crosses her legs and bites her bottom lip.

Guy Fieri’s voice fills the air between us.

“Frank and I will be here when the alarm company comes tomorrow,” she says decidedly.

“Thank you, Mom. For everything.”

“I know we haven’t always had the best relationship, Tacy. But I want you to know, I love you very much. You and the kids. And I am truly sorry for what happened to Sol. And for what happened to the house. I just don’t understand why.”

I shake my head and snuggle up in a blanket. “I don’t either, Mom.”

“Neither do the police, obviously,” she says. “So, what did the intruder take, exactly?”

“Some files,” I reply.

“Well…yes, we know that. But which ones?”

I had been so consumed with getting out of the ER the first night, then getting my house cleaned up and the kids readjusted that I’d totally forgotten to figure out the files the burglar had taken.

“That’s a great point,” I admit. “I don’t know which ones. But I can find out.”

Mom follows me into the office. I click on the corner lamp and sit cross-legged on the carpet next to the filing cabinet. Mom follows suit, grunting as she lowers herself to the floor. She situates herself, then leans in and bumps my shoulder playfully.

“Isn’t this fun? Solving mysteries together?”

My mouth drops open. Is she serious? Solving mysteries together? I’d better not even address this comment.

I open the bottom drawer and read the names on the yellow tabs of the folders. “Taxes 2022, Taxes 2023, Mortgage, Home Insurance”. I open each file, flipping through the papers speedily, searching to see if I notice anything glaringly obvious that’s missing. “Car, Life Insurance, 401K.” I continue looking, but everything seems to be in its place.

“Anything yet?” Mom asks.

“No.” I open the birth certificate file and stop. Then gasp when I notice what was taken.

“Sol’s certificates. They’re all gone,” I utter as a sob threatens to escape my throat. I swallow to prevent an outburst.

“His certificates?” Mom asks.

“His birth and death certificate,” I say, my voice wobbly. “His social security card. Even his degrees. Those bastards.”

Mom reaches for the file and thumbs through it. “They left your birth certificate though. That’s strange, don’t you think? Why would they take Sol’s but not yours?”

“An easy target, I guess?” I begin to cry. I’m tired of holding back. I’m exhausted and it’s too difficult to steel my emotions. “Maybe they figure he’s dead so who cares?”

I grab my knees and hug them to my chest. Then bury my face in them and let the tears flow. Mom reaches over and rubs my back. The most amount of affection the woman has ever shown me.

“It’s going to be okay,” she coos. “You’re a strong woman. You bring people back from the dead. Surely you can overcome this.”

“I don’t know that I’ve ever brought anyone back from the dead, Mom, but thank you,” I say and sniffle.

“Well, you know what I mean. People go into code blue, or whatever you call it, and you are there to save them. To pull them back from the brink,” she says and squeezes my shoulder gently.

That night, I lay down to sleep and can’t stop thinking about Solomon. I mean, I should be more worried about the house and the kids, and the fact that we were burglarized less than a week ago. But I can’t get Sol’s face out of my head. Which is stupid. Because he’s dead. I’ll never see him again. Never feel his lips on mine. Feel his strong arms around me. Feel his cock inside of me. I can’t help but pleasure myself thinking of the way we used to fuck each other. He satisfied every need I had. Emotionally, he was always there for me. Never judged me. Always encouraged me. Physically, he held me when I needed affection. Protected me from danger. And sexually, he explored every one of my kinks with me. Every nasty little desire, he made happen. And never thought twice about it. I’ll never find another person like him. And honestly, I don’t want to.

I give into sweet sexual release and go to sleep that night dreaming of the days when Solomon was alive. When we werehappy and safe. I wake up in the morning and remember Sol is gone. And I’m a resident on a nightmare carousel that’s spinning faster and faster. One that I’ll be stuck on forever.

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