Jason awoke on the morning of his father’s funeral with a feeling of despair he’d never experienced before.

He lay there in bed for a few moments, blinking his eyes and trying to rouse himself from a sleepy fog. But then he started to feel like he just wasn’t going to be able to get out of bed. His brow furrowed and he closed his eyes again, telling himself to pull it together and get up. He had shit to do before the funeral. He had to get showered and shaved, put on his suit and swirl enough mouthwash around to vainly attempt to disguise the whiskey smell. Then he had to eat breakfast, answer some work e-mails and leave to pick up Gail and Staci on the way to the church. He also had to stop in at Winslow’s favorite deli to pick up six large trays of sandwiches for the wake back at the Gaines mansion. Melinda was sorting out all the other food and drink, and Olivia was doing...something, but he’d stupidly volunteered to get the sandwiches and now he wished he hadn’t.

He looked at his closed curtains and contemplated pulling them open. Maybe that would get him going; a bit of sunlight on his bones. But then he just closed his eyes again and returned to his thoughts. He had a feeling in the pit of stomach that felt completely alien to him. It was like a lead weight had been deposited there and it was preventing him from moving. Or maybe it felt like someone was sitting on his chest, pinning him to the bed. Maybe that was it? Either way, he felt an oppressive force inside himself and didn’t like it one bit.

He began to wonder if he was depressed. He’d never suffered from mental health issues in the past. He’d had periods where he felt sadder or lower than others, but he figured that was fairly normal for the human race. But he didn’t think he’d ever been truly depressed. He’d heard it described as a weight before, an albatross around a person’s neck that prevents them from accomplishing a simple task. Gail used to complain of a similar feeling from time to time but Jason had always dismissed it. Now he was beginning to wish he hadn’t, because if this is what depression feels like, he was a total prick for not acknowledging its seriousness to his ex-wife.

Could someone with no mental health issues develop depression out of nowhere, though? He pondered this for a few seconds and then realized how ridiculous it sounded; if finding out your father had been a serial killer for most of his adult life and had, in fact, brutally murdered your mother wasn’t cause for depression? Then he didn’t know what would be.

Eventually he managed to persuade himself to get up using, as was always the case, self-preservation as a motive. If he didn’t show up to the funeral, with Staci and Gail in tow and sandwiches for the wake, questions would be asked. There might even be local press there and all he needed was for a story to appear in the paper or online about how the heir to the Gaines family fortune didn’t turn up to the funeral. Then he’d have to field all sorts of questions he didn’t want to answer right now.

He went about his morning routine and gussied himself up for the occasion. Breakfast was a pop-tart and an Irish coffee. Well, that makes it sound fancier than it was; he just poured a double shot of whiskey into his coffee and then gargled some more mouthwash before leaving the house.

He drove the 15 minutes to his old family home in silence. He hadn’t been there for more than a few minutes at a time since the divorce. Mostly it just made him feel inadequate. He hadn’t been a good husband in that house and he could never quite shake the fact that he never deserved to live there in the first place. Gail made that house a home, not him.

He felt sad all over again when he thought about how he left the home where his daughter was growing up because he was a shitty husband, but subsequently proceeded to turn into a shitty father too while in his new place. He’d been avoiding seeing Staci for weeks, always coming up with one excuse or another as to why she hadn’t stayed at his place for a long time. Her room was made up and, while it wasn’t as nice as her room back home, he’d done his best. But after a while it just felt to him like that room was a mockery of the one at home; a sub par replacement he’d thrown together in an afternoon. In the end, it actually began to hurt him to have her stay there, so he started his parade of excuses.

He had to start doing better for Staci. If nothing else, Gail might go the legal route if he didn’t pull his act together. She could stop him seeing Staci entirely. At the moment they had an informal arrangement, which worked fine when he was making an effort. But not so much when he was slacking off. He couldn’t let this thing with his dad derail him completely. He had responsibilities he was neglecting and things had to change.

He pulled up to the house, mercifully, on time, and honked the horn. While he waited for them, he breathed into his hand to see if any of the whiskey smell was still detectable. He wasn’t sure, so threw a couple of pieces of gum in his mouth and started furiously chewing.

Staci came bounding out of the house first, her 12-year-old legs carrying her as fast as she could go. He exited the car and came round to the sidewalk just in time for her to throw her arms around him in a hug. He hugged her back tightly and could feel some tears start to form in his eyes, but they didn’t fully come.

"Hey Staci-bear, how are you? I’ve missed you."

"I missed you too, daddy. I’m sorry about grandpa."

Jason rubbed her back and closed his eyes tightly at the mention of his father. Ugh. Staci could never know what he really was. He had to keep her as far away from that knowledge as possible. "It’s okay, sweetie. He was an old man who lived a good life. It was just his time."

"I’m gonna miss his bedtime stories. And the candy he always let me eat when mommy said no."

Jason managed a rueful smile at that one. "C’mon sweetie, let’s get in the car. Your Aunt Olivia will kill us if we’re late."

"She’d kill you. She likes me." Staci giggled at her own joke and Jason chuckled too. Even Staci knew Olivia wasn’t to be trifled with.

Jason opened the back passenger door and Staci climbed in. He then felt a light hand on his shoulder and immediately felt himself melt at Gail’s touch. He missed that touch. Why had he been such a fucking idiot?

He turned around and Gail hugged him. Jason knew that she was dressed for a funeral and he shouldn’t really be thinking of her like that, but Jesus Christ she looked and smelled incredible. He was poked ever so slightly on the side of the face by her oversized funeral hat, which in the old days he would’ve teased her about, but he didn’t care right now. He just wanted the hug to last forever.

"I’m so sorry about Winslow, Jason. I know we all half-expected it but it was still such a shock. And for you and Olivia to actually be there when he died...I can’t imagine." Gail had pulled away from him at this point, and was looking him in the eyes with that empathetic, caring expression that he could tell was totally genuine. Gail wasn’t his biggest fan right now, but she still cared about him and his dad. He knew he could never tell her about Winslow’s confession either; she really couldn’t imagine what it was like being there when he died.

Jason nodded. "Thanks Gail, it means a lot coming from you. I know I’ve been --"

Gail cut him off, a knowing half-smile on her face. "We don’t need to talk about that stuff now, Jason. Today is about your family. We’ll just both be better going forward, okay?"

Jason felt about ready to burst into tears right then and there. How had he ever been worthy enough to be married to this wonderful woman?

He simply nodded at her and gave her a choked-up "thank you" in response. She nodded back, smiled, and got in the car.

As Jason put the car in drive and headed off for his serial killer father’s funeral (with a stop for sandwiches on the way), he could feel the dark pit of despair begin to lighten ever so slightly. It was still there, but if his ex-wife and daughter didn’t hate his guts like he imagined they did in his more reflective moments, maybe there was some hope for the future?

Life was weird sometimes.