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“John… Stop…” Mary said while laughing a little.
“You know I can’t, I want to cherish your reaction.”
Mary rolled her eyes gently. We had a little fight a week ago and I left for three days. I really wanted to apologize to her because she didn’t deserve it, I think Dean was a bit sad because of me. So, when I was out, I bought a big bouquet of flowers and I ordered a big meal. Also bought a beautiful dress. And then I bought Dean a big plushie, and for Sammy who was still in Mary’s womb, a plushie too. I put all of these on the table and I called Mary so she could see all the presents. She placed her hand over her mouth.
“John… What are these things?”
“For you… And the kids.”
I saw my wife stroking her belly slightly. She smiled at me and I could see in her eyes that she was forgiving me. What a relief. I know I can be an ass, but I’m trying my best. Mary was just too kind and sweet. She was making me soft all the time, cooking things, being such a perfect mom with our 4-year-old boy. Sammy was supposed to be born around the end of April or the beginning of May and we were already March 1983.
“Come on, put that thing down and dance with me.” Mary said looking at my camera.
I smiled and put it on the table, still recording. I took her hand and she put a Queen’s vinyl. After a static sound, “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” was resonating in the room and there we were, dancing very slowly and soon after this, Dean was joining us, his hands on Mary’s belly. I was sure little Sam heard the music too, sharing this happy family moment. One of my hands was in Dean’s hair and my eyes were fixed Mary’s beautiful gaze while the music continued.
“There goes my baby
She knows how to rock ‘n’ roll
She drives me crazy
She gives me hot and cold fever
Then she leaves me in a cool, cool sweat.”
I swear, this moment was one of my favorite memories.
“Dad?”
I frowned. No. Dean is not supposed to say that at this moment. What the Hell?
“Dad…?”
Suddenly, everything was collapsing around me as the picture of me and my family dancing violently stopped. I stared at the screen in front of me.
“Dad…? Can you hear me…?”
I slowly detached my eyes from it and my gaze fell on Dean, looking at me. The sounds around me became clearer and now the sound of Sam’s cries were very loud in my ears.
“Dad, Sammy is crying, what should I do?”
No. No, no, no. Let me press the rewind button. I looked at the TV in front of me. Right. We were in this shitty motel. It’s been a week since Mary died… And this tape was the last memory I had from her. The last moving memory I had the time to save. The tears were filling my eyes again and tried to get up. I looked at the clock in front of me. Shit. I’ve been watching the cassette around eight times. I sighed and angrily grabbed a bottle of whiskey, walking near Dean. I didn’t want to hear him, or Sam. I needed some space. I needed some peace. I felt like I was exploding from the inside.
“Dad, please… Sammy is crying, I don’t know what to do.” Dean said with a whiny voice.
“Feed him. Or I don’t know. I’m going out.” I answered with a husky voice.
“D-Dad…?”
“Just do what I’m saying Dean!”
My voice seemed to had scared Dean. I sighed again.
“I’m going out. I need air. Just… bottle-feed him or sing him a freaking lullaby.”
I didn’t hear what Dean answered to me. I closed the door behind me, leaving my two boys alone while I was walking outside, the alcohol warming my empty carcass. I wished I could rewind everything. I fucking wished.