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The children were sleeping, and so was Hayden. It was only Amber who was not, fussy and weeping, red-faced with anger. She was a late speaker, Jackie had said. Hayden and I are keeping an eye on her, but we haven't gotten her diagnosed or anything. She was four now; Jackie had never mentioned what her first word was to Ilya or Shane and Ilya doubted Hayden would remember it right now.
"Mama, mama, ma, ma, ma," she was crying, fat tears spilling down her round cheeks. Ilya should have hugged her, smoothed her hair down, swiped the tears from her eyes.
He wished he had a cigarette. Thanks for helping, Hayden had yawned before he stumbled off to bed on his wobbly colt's legs. You can take the guest bedroom. Ilya was out here on the couch instead, half-asleep and half-waiting for Shane to peer out from the door, toeing off his shoes and putting them in a neat line on the shoe rack. He imagined Hayden was doing the same, waiting for Jackie to come to bed, flipping over and flopping his arm onto her side, wondering why it was cold and empty.
Amber was still crying; blubbering, now, really. Rose had taught him that word when he and Sveta and Shane were watching a National Geographic documentary about walruses. He supposed he should call her, ask how she was doing. His phone was just over there on the side table Amber was wailing in front of. Sveta was at the top of his messages. Ilya I am coming to Ottawa in two days. Ilyusha why aren't you at home. Ilyusha where are you. Ilyusha I hope you would at least have the decency to leave a note if you killed yourself. She'd called, too, a few times. He hadn't responded.
He watched Amber cry numbly, not really seeing anything. He heard the click of the light switch and feet tripping down the stairs; a hiss of pain and "Ow!" Eventually, Hayden made it down the stairs. "Amber?" he called out. "Amber, whas'wrong?" His voice was still heavy with sleep. Ilya heard him yawn. When he came into view, his hair was mussed and his shirt rumpled. Shane had never worn a shirt to bed, always slept shirtless and in his boxers; Ilya wore an undershirt and shorts to sleep, maybe sweatpants in winter, and made fun of Shane when he cuddled into Ilya, saying, Maybe you should have worn shirt, hm? Shane would mumble sleepily and push his knee between Ilya's legs in response.
"Mama!" Amber cried. "Mama!" Hayden blinked and rubbed his eyes.
"Honey, we've gotta go back to bed," he said, extending a hand. "Amber, sweetie, come on." Somehow, he didn't seem to have noticed Ilya. No, it wasn't that surprising. Hayden didn't seem to notice much of anything these days. He thought it was the same for Ilya; thought they were the same, too caught up in their grief to see the things around them. No: Ilya still watched everything around him, but he was in some kind of space outside of everything else. Liminal, Shane might call it. Might have called it.
"Maaaaaa," Amber keened, an animal sound. "Mama, mama, dada, mama!" Ilya watched Hayden's jaw work, saw his bottom lip tremble. He knelt, wincing, and held out his arms. "Sweetheart," he said. "Come here, please." Amber shook her head. "Wan' mama!" she shrieked.
"Mama's not here," Hayden forced out, managing to keep his voice steady. "But she wants you to go to bed."
Amber screamed. Hayden shut his eyes against it. Ilya did not move. He wanted a cigarette so bad. He could call Sveta, ask if she had anything from Boston, or if she'd managed to bring something back from her summer trip to Russia. Donskoy Tabak, Cohiba, Marlboro ... even Pall Mall. He'd quit mostly, except for the occasional every so often. Shane had asked him to.
Two pairs of feet flew down the stairs. Ruby came down first, wide awake, looking for any sign of danger. Jade was right behind her and understood quickly what was happening. She walked briskly towards Amber, still howling, and scooped her up quickly. Amber didn't fight, just continued to whimper. Ruby met Ilya's eyes and furrowed her brows. "Uncle Ilya, why aren't you in bed?"
Hayden raised his head from Amber to Ilya. He tilted his head. "Why aren't you in the guest bedroom?" he asked.
Ilya made himself shrug. His tongue felt like lead in his mouth as he croaked out, "Couldn't sleep."
"Dad, Amber can sleep with us tonight," Jade said. She spared a glance for Ilya and then looked back at her father. "OK?"
"OK," Hayden said, nodding. "Ilya, why aren't you in bed?"
"I wanted to sleep out here," Ilya said. It was true. He had wanted to lie on the Pikes's scratchy sofa, feel the cramp in his neck when he woke up the next morning without Shane by his side. He just hadn't lied down.
Amber's cries had died down to low whimpers. Jade beckoned to Ruby, who looked between her father and Ilya one last time before she followed her sister up the stairs. Ilya wondered vaguely how Arthur was still asleep.
Hayden was still knelt on the ground staring at him. Ilya did not have the energy to snap at him. "OK," Hayden said after a long silence. "Well, um, let me at least get you pillows. And a blanket."
"No, thank you," Ilya said.
"Yes, you're welcome," Hayden said firmly. "Shane would kill me if I let you freeze to death." As soon as the words left his mouth Ilya could see he regretted them. He opened and closed it a few times, like a fish, and then raised his head. "I'm going to get you a pillow and blankets."
Ilya didn't say anything. What a pair they made: Hayden didn't see and Ilya barely talked.
He should call back Sveta, tell her he wasn't dead.
Hayden got up, grimacing. "Fuck, ow, Christ," he groaned, putting a hand to his back. Swear jar, Ilya should have said. No words left his mouth. "I'll be back in two minutes," Hayden said. He turned and left.