5. Vivian
Chapter five
Vivian
I open the dryer door and pull the towels out, adding them to the basket to be folded. It never ceases to amaze me how much laundry a four-year-old girl can create, even though I do laundry almost daily. Towels are the easiest to fold, at least I don’t need to match little socks that each have a different pattern and color combination. I grab the laundry basket and carry it back downstairs where another basket waits for me.
It’s taken a few weeks to settle in, but my sister’s guest house is slowly starting to feel more like our own space. The only piece of furniture in the guest house before we moved in was a custom sectional for the living room, and I only wanted to move Eloise’s bedroom set from Chicago, so Daddy quickly solved that problem. Savannah and Shane were planning on furnishing the space once the remodel was complete, but Daddy wanted to do something to help and if buying me some new furniture makes him feel helpful, then so be it. It was nice to have a blank space to make our own; sometimes it’s the little things in life like having new furniture without wondering if Bianca Bishop ever sat or fucked my husband on it.
I sit on the sectional and start folding the laundry. Menial tasks are almost comforting to do because I don’t have to think, I can accomplish something without any emotion or thought. When my hands are busy, my mind can find a moment of peace. I really didn’t see myself ever returning to my hometown. It’s a great community to raise a family and build a life, but it would have required Trent to accept a job in Nashville, and he had no interest in living anywhere in the south.
To be fair, I never considered the possibility of being a widowed single mother at thirty-two years old either. I never imagined this would be my life but here we are—four hundred miles away from Chicago and living back in Forrest Falls, Tennessee.
It’ll be nice to have genuine friends around again, unlike the women I knew in Chicago. After college, MK and Lauren moved back home, but over the years life has brought all five of us childhood best friends back to our hometown. It was so nice they all came to Trent’s funeral; I forgot how good friends will just instinctively show up for you. Even MK’s husband, Drew, and Brittany’s husband, Zander, kindly made the trip to support us. I know Drew and Zander never clicked with Trent, but they showed up for me because that’s just what friends do.
I can’t think of a single friend from my former social life with Trent that I miss other than our neighbors. A handful of my so-called friends in Chicago reached out initially after the funeral, but even less since we moved. I didn’t realize how much of a guard I had up with them until I was back around my hometown friends. Even calling those women from Chicago friends feels like a stretch now, they really were more like acquaintances my husband and I socialized with on a regular basis. I don’t think I want to know the answer, but I’ve wondered more than once if any of them knew about Bianca, especially their husbands. Was I the laughing joke of our social circle? Was I the only one left in the dark?
My grief and anger seem to battle each other daily to control my heart. I carry copious amounts of both, but most days grief wins. Everything is hard and some days it’s a struggle to even get out of bed, and without Eloise I doubt I would be leaving my bed most days. My therapist told me before I left Chicago that it may help to focus on the things I can control, like the menial task of laundry. I need to find a new therapist as my one in Chicago only offers in-person sessions, but with the size of Forrest Falls, I may need to look at therapists in Nashville. It’s not ideal but an hour’s drive would be worth it for the right fit.
Eloise is still having nightmares. We have two bedrooms upstairs in the guest house, but she ends up in my bed every night. What do I tell a little girl who wakes up crying for her daddy? He isn’t coming back—he also broke her mama’s heart when he left us.
Eloise doesn’t understand that someone shot her daddy, and I will shield her from the gruesome facts as long as I can. We told her that he was killed in an accident with a gun but didn’t go into any other details. The nightmares seem to have a common theme and in most of them, Trent is in some type of car accident while driving. Eloise saw our old cars before the dealership in Chicago picked them up, so she knows her daddy’s car wasn’t in an accident nor destroyed. Eloise has somehow interpreted that her daddy was in a car accident and has become very anxious about safety when we drive anywhere. I didn’t know a four-year-old could be concerned about speed limits and traffic signals, but my smart girl is too observant for her own good. I try to redirect her attention when she gets worked up about it but it’s hard.
All of it is so incredibly hard.
There is a wonderful online community I came across of young, widowed mothers that has been helpful. I also searched the internet for a lot of advice, especially when it comes to how best to address Trent’s death with Eloise. My browser’s search history would probably be concerning to an outsider but the reality of motherhood after loss is messy, complicated, and at times disturbing.
I finish folding the laundry and carry the baskets back upstairs to put away the clothes and towels. My bedroom is the larger of the two with an en suite bathroom and while most days I don’t miss much about Chicago, I do miss my walk-in closet. It was one of my favorite parts of our condo. It’s silly the stuff I think of because in the grand scheme of things, who cares about a closet? But I designed that closet, and it was a dream. Some days it feels like everything before Trent’s murder was a dream. I thought I had such a good life, and I definitely did when it came to Eloise, but so much of my reality was a fabricated fairytale that did not end in a happily ever after. Instead, it resulted with me living in my sister’s guesthouse feeling like a fool drowning in my grief. I won’t let this be the end of our story though, Eloise deserves a happily ever after—we both do. I will not let this tragic turn of events define the rest of our lives.
It’s a short walk around the pool area to my sister’s house. Eloise is upstairs playing with her cousins, and my sister is putting away groceries as I walk through the backdoor. “Hey, Vivian. How are you, honey?” She comes out of their walk-in pantry to grab more groceries from the kitchen island.
“I’m fine. Are the girls having fun?” I can hear them giggling upstairs, and Eloise’s giggle is like a balm to my soul.
“Of course, but don’t blame me for the … interesting manicure Eloise has, Livy insisted Eloise picked the colors during the makeover.” Savannah winks at me and I can remember the countless times she gave me makeovers when I was growing up. A small smile slides on my face at the memory, and I hope these moments become core memories for my own daughter with her cousins. “Did you see that stack of mail for you over there? Most of it looks like it’s forwarded from Chicago.” She points to a small pile on the dining room table.
“No, I missed that, thanks.” I walk over to grab the stack before taking a seat at the kitchen island to sort through the mail. There’s something from Trent’s financial advisor, a letter from my firm in Chicago, some junk mail, but at the bottom of the pile is a plain envelope addressed to Vivian Callahan. “Did you see this one? It’s addressed to my maiden name. I haven’t received mail with Vivian Callahan on it in years.” There isn’t a return address and my name is typed on the envelope, not handwritten. I hold it up to show my sister.
Savannah walks over to stand next to me and looks at the plain envelope. “With my home address on it, it has to be from someone that knows you live here now.” I shrug and open the envelope. Inside is a single piece of paper with a poem typed out in the same font as the front of the envelope. I read the poem out loud to my sister:
“What in the actual hell?” Savannah startles me, I forgot she was standing right next to me. Goosebumps crawl across my body and my stomach churns.
“It’s not signed by anyone. Who would send me something like this? It’s odd.” I drop the poem onto the countertop. Plenty of people know I live here now, it’s part of living in a smaller community but this is creeping me out. “Marrying my husband was a mistake that has been rectified? Are they implying his murder was some twisted gift?”
“I feel like we should call someone, Viv. Don’t you think? This is super weird, and they didn’t even sign it. That’s eerie, I don’t like it.” Savannah shakes her head as she picks up her phone.
“Who are you calling?” She’s right, we should call someone but I’m not sure who you call when you get an unnerving, anonymous poem about your dead husband.
“This feels like something authorities should know about; Liam will know what to do.” Our brother Liam is some kind of private consultant with the Department of Defense. We don’t know any details about his job beyond that, but we know he knows a lot of people in law enforcement with various agencies.
Savannah leaves a voicemail for Liam to call her back. It’s rare to reach him directly and we are all well-acquainted with his voicemail. He travels a lot to undisclosed locations, and we typically have to leave a voicemail or send a text in order to reach him. A few minutes later, Liam calls Savannah back.
“Hey, you’re on speaker with me and Viv,” Savannah tells him as she answers.
“Hey girls. Viv, tell me what happened.” Liam is straight to the point without any fluff, but that’s how he is when he’s in problem solver mode. I explain the poem, how it’s addressed to my maiden name, and read it to him. “I agree this feels off. Savannah, can you get a plastic bag for her? Vivian, I want you to try to only touch the piece of paper and envelope where you already have and place them both in a plastic bag then seal it shut. I can’t get back to town for a few more days, but we should let the local authorities know and the detectives in Chicago looking into Trent’s murder as well.” Liam’s confirmation about it being strange does not make me feel any better .
“I have the detectives’ phone numbers, I’ll call them. What do we do with the bagged poem?” I ask, trying not to freak out at this point.
“Just leave it for now. I bet the boys in Chicago will want to check for prints and if they don’t, then I will myself. I don’t know what’s going on, but I have to be honest—I don’t like this.”
“Okay, I’ll call them now. What about the local authorities? Should I just call the non-emergency line or who do I even call?” I really don’t want to deal with more police and interviews; I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime.
“Don’t worry about it, I’m going to call the Sheriff after we hang up. Eddie will probably send someone over to pick it up as evidence to secure the chain of custody.” I nod, even though Liam can’t see me. “Vivian, are you okay?” Liam may be the no-fluff problem solver, but he also takes his big brother protector role seriously.
“I … I don’t actually know. Maybe this is just some sick joke or something, but I don’t appreciate being told to view my husband’s death as a gift.” Savannah rubs my back as tears start to sting my eyes.
Damn it. I almost made it through the day without crying.
I call the detectives in Chicago after we hang up with Liam, and of course they want to check the poem and envelope for prints just like Liam thought. I tell them about the local sheriff coming to pick it up and they said they’ll coordinate directly with him and will once again be in touch with more questions. I open my messages to send Liam an update.
Me
Chicago PD wants to check them for prints, still don’t have any leads in his case so maybe this is something?
Liam
Good, Eddie said he will personally be there in the next thirty minutes to pick it up. He was already planning on having it dusted for prints but can work with Chicago to share results. Whatever is going on, we aren’t taking any chances with your safety, Viv.
Me
Ok, thanks. When will you be back in town?
Liam
I’ll try to be home sooner than planned, maybe a day or two? I’ll let you know as soon as I know for sure. You can always go stay at Dad’s if you feel safer out there.
Me
I’m safe here, they have an alarm system. I don’t think we need to stay at Daddy’s, Eloise is upstairs giggling right now and I want to do what I can to keep her as happy as possible.
Liam
That’s fine, but just in case, I’ll let the Cavalry know what’s going on.
Of course he’s going to alert our other brothers. Less than ten minutes later, Sheriff Eddie rings Savannah’s doorbell and asks me a few questions before taking the poem and envelope. I don’t have much information to offer him. I haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary or anyone watching or following me, and I really have no idea who sent it to me. I give him the contact information for the Chicago detectives, and he says he will be in touch soon as he leaves to take the evidence to the lab.
It took Finn and Ryan less than twenty minutes before they walked through Savannah’s front door, followed by Daddy fifteen minutes later. Jack is out of town for work but has called and texted both Savannah and me. I may be creeped out by the random poem but there is comfort in knowing my family is nearby. The way my family shows up for me reminds me of a memory I haven’t thought of in a long time.
“Do you remember when Tommy Black broke your heart in high school?” I ask Savannah as she sits on the sofa next to me.
“Do I ever! He was no prince charming, more like a total frog. I caught him kissing some girl after the homecoming football game our freshman year. I was devastated!”
“I don’t know if I ever told you but when you were crying in the kitchen to Mama that night and Mama told me to go get ready for bed, I sat at the top of the stairs to eavesdrop,” I admit as my sister knocks my shoulder.
“You sneaky little bird!”
“I know, but I wanted to know all the details!” I say as I defend my younger self.
“You were what, nine years old?”
I nod. “I couldn’t imagine why any dumb boy would pick anyone else over my gorgeous sister,” I admit. “When Daddy got home with the boys, they all flipped out over you crying and demanded to know what happened. ”
“I remember that night,” Ryan says from across the room. “We wanted to tan his hide for that.”
“Y’all were livid that some boy hurt her,” I say thinking back to that night. “Mama told you all to calm down and then Daddy gave Mama a look before he took Savannah out to the back porch to talk to her one on one.”
“How do you remember all of this, Viv?” Savannah asks.
“Do you remember what happened after that?” Ryan asks and I nod.
“Yep, after Daddy and Sav were out of the room, Mama sat you boys down at the kitchen island and told you it’s your job to protect your sisters, no matter what.”
“She did what?!” Savannah exclaims. “I never heard this part of the story!”
Finn nods. “Yeah, it wasn’t the only time she told us that. She said as your brothers, we had to look out for you and if necessary, defend you. Mama would tell us it was an honor and privilege as your brothers, and she counted on us to always live up to that expectation.”
“And in life, other men may let you girls down, but she expected us to be better than that. Mama told us her two little girls had their own four fierce protectors, and she knew the Callahan Cavalry would always show up for one another,” Ryan adds.
“Is that where the Callahan Cavalry came from?” I ask.
Daddy hums with a soft smile on his face. “When y’all were much younger, we were watching you kids play in the backyard, and I said it looks like we had created our own little army. Your mama said maybe not an army but maybe a cavalry. She hoped if one of you needed something, that each of you would always come running for one another. ”
“Wait a minute. What happened that night I cried after she told you that?” Savannah asks Ryan as our brothers look at each other grinning.
“While you sat on the back porch with Dad, the four of us went out the front door and stopped by the chicken coop before going to Tommy Black’s house and egging his car.” Ryan leans over and clinks Finn’s drink.
“Damn right we did. Tommy came running out after us as we were leaving, but instead of driving away, Liam jumped out of Jack’s truck like some type of ninja and gifted Tommy a black eye,” Finn adds. Savannah’s mouth drops in shock at this revelation.
“After you left the house, Mama watched you guys go to the chicken coop from the side window and I heard her say you were good boys before she went back to the dishes.” I grin. Savannah gets up to hug our brothers as I notice Daddy looking on with a small smile and a wistful look in his eye.
We end up spending the afternoon together, which turns into a family dinner as Savannah plays host to everyone. I look around the large dining table at the faces of my siblings, my daddy, nieces, and baby girl as we eat together. This feels so right and for the first time in three months, I almost feel whole again, surrounded by my family. Well, everyone except Shane, that is, but I’ve noticed since moving back that is more common than not for him to stay at the office until late in the evening.
Eloise comes and climbs onto my lap as she tells her uncles an animated story about the frogs she and her cousins caught with Papa yesterday down by the creek near his house. The room is loud, comforting, and feels like home. Mama would be so proud to see how well the Callahan Cavalry showed up for me today. Leaning down to kiss my baby’s head, I know despite what that bizarre poem said, I will never see marrying Trent as a mistake because it gave me the most precious gift, and the honor of being her mama.