Chapter 53
Abby
Eleven Months
“There she is!”
The door swings open before I even have the chance to knock, and my angel baby is swiftly removed from my arms by her grandpa.
“I know you love seeing me, Alan, but don’t forget about Erin,” I joke, closing the door behind me as I step into the house.
“Sorry Abs,” he smiles sheepishly. “It’s good to see you.”
“Oh whatever, go play with your grandbaby.”
Beaming, he sweeps into the sitting room and I hear Andrea join in the cooing as I remove my shoes and jacket.
Spoiled absolutely rotten.
I pause, leaning against the doorframe to watch as they sit on the floor and hastily begin pulling toys out of one of many bins they have stashed around the house. Alan stacks a few blocks, then promptly knocks them over with an exaggerated “Uh oh!”, earning him instant baby giggles.
I can’t help but marvel at the complete shift in atmosphere from the last time I came over here with big news–we were all shells of our former selves, deep in the throes of grief, but cautiously hopeful about the newest member of our family.
Back then, the house felt dim, almost gray, despite the time of year.
But today, on an objectively gloomy afternoon, this room has never felt brighter.
Nerves settle into my stomach as I work up the courage to share my reason for coming over today. How do you tell your dead husband’s parents that you’re moving on, and with his best friend, no less?
What if they hate me?
My chest constricts at the notion of hurting them, even unintentionally. It must show on my face, because my thought spiral is interrupted by Andrea asking, “Are you okay Abby? You look like you’ve got something heavy on your mind.”
“I’m okay,” I say with a tight smile. “But I did want to talk to you about something.”
They both rise from the floor, where Erin is happily babbling away in her own little world, and sit across from me in matching armchairs. I inhale a shaky breath, trying to find the right words.
“Whatever it is, you can tell us,” Alan says softly. “You know that.”
“I do,” I say slowly. “I just don’t want you to hate me.”
“Darling girl, how could we ever hate you?” Andrea cries, eyes widening with shock.
“You know that Aaron was the love of my life,” I begin.
“And he always will be. And I know it may feel sudden, but I…” I hesitate, mustering every ounce of courage I can to get the words out.
“There’s someone in my life now. Someone good, and kind, and supportive.
I couldn’t have gotten through any of this–the loss, the pregnancy, the birth, the aftermath–without him. ”
Alan and Andrea share a knowing look, but don't say anything, so I continue.
“I didn’t plan it, and Lord knows I didn’t expect it. But it happened without me even noticing, like the most natural feeling in the world.”
“Can we ask who?” Alan questions, but in a way that makes it feel like he already knows the answer.
“Um,” I stall. “Well it’s not someone entirely new, I would never let a stranger around our Little One, not for a second.”
They nod, silently urging me to continue.
“It’s…well, it’s Jack.”
The last thing in the world I expected happens—their shoulders relax in tandem, both sighing in relief.
"Finally," Alan sighs in relief.
What?
“Oh, Abby,” Andrea says, coming over to the couch and placing her hand on my cheek. “Of course it is.”
“You'd be okay with this?” I ask, bewildered. “I’ve been so worried about what people might think, moving on with Aaron’s best friend–especially you two, I would never want to upset you.”
“He’s your best friend, too,” Alan points out. “The three of you have been peas in a pod since you were teenagers.”
“Exactly,” Andrea says, thumb swiping away the errant tear on my cheek that escaped. “If there’s one man on this planet that Aaron would trust you with, it’s Jack Robb.”
“You have no idea how wonderful he’s been,” I gush. “Everything from bringing me miracle food when I couldn’t stop barfing to building the crib to doing nighttime feedings when I’m too exhausted to think straight.”
“We know,” they say in unison.
“What do you mean?”
“Has he not told you?” Andrea asks.
“Of course he hasn’t, dear,” Alan scoffs. “You know he wouldn’t willingly bring any attention to himself.”
“Hasn’t told me what?”
“Jack has come to our house every week since Aaron passed,” Andrea chokes, fighting back tears. “He’s kept us updated on all the things you don’t have time or energy for.”
I immediately open my mouth to apologize, but Alan cuts me off.
“Oh, hush, don't you apologize. You’re busy and exhausted,” he interjects. “You were a new widow, and now you’re a new mom. We don’t expect daily updates from you.”
“But Jack has stopped by regularly,” Andrea continues. “Sometimes he helps with things around the house, sometimes we spend hours telling our favorite stories about Aaron.”
“And sometimes we don’t say anything at all,” Alan finishes. “He just sits with us in our grief, and nothing could ever mean more to us than that.”
“Until now,” Andrea smiles. “Until we started to see how much he cares for you and Erin. How much he loves you both.”
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face in juxtaposition to the tears freely flowing. I didn’t think it was possible to love him more than I already do, but to know that he checked in on them, to make sure they were okay and supported–my heart is damn near bursting out of my chest.
“He really does love us. So much.” My words echo Andrea’s as she squeezes my hand. “And I love him. I’ve always loved him, he’s the best friend Aaron and I ever had. And then all of a sudden, our friendship turned into something more, and it just felt…right. ”
“That’s how it should be,” Alan nods, placing his hand over his heart as Andrea looks over at him. “Marriage, for the most part, is lovely on its own–but to do it with your best friend? I think it’s the greatest gift life has ever given us.”
“So you really don’t mind?” My voice sounds small, but the nerves have been replaced by hope. “Even if it feels fast? I know it hasn’t even been two years, and I don’t necessarily believe there’s a timeline for these things, but I want to honor Aaron, and you, and–”
“Abby,” Andrea says soothingly. “All we want in this world is for you and Erin to be happy. And if Jack is the one to make that happen? It’s just an added bonus.”
“He’s always felt like a second son,” Alan says, voice tight with emotion.
“He and Aaron were inseparable, and we knew his parents weren’t around.
He’s as welcome in our home as you are, and knowing you’ve found solace in one another, well.
” He clears his throat before continuing.
“Well, that’s just the best thing I can imagine. ”
Erin crawls over, pulling herself up by the hem of my pants, smiling brightly when I scoop her into my arms and kiss her on the forehead.
“You are so loved, baby girl,” I murmur. “I hope you never question that.”
“Not on our watch,” Alan grins, once again stealing her away. “Not for one second.”
We spend the rest of the afternoon talking and laughing, and fawning over our dear Little One.
Andrea asks a million details about how exactly Jack and I realized our love was more than just friendship (obviously some parts were glossed over, she does not need that much information about either of us), and Alan spends the majority of the time ignoring Andrea and I completely.
Apparently he only has eyes for one girl now, and we’re not even a remotely close second.
When we realize Erin can hardly keep her eyes open, we say our goodbyes and I place her in her carseat as gently as possible.
“Come on, Little One,” I whisper, sweeping the lightest kiss across her forehead. “Let’s go home to our Jacky boy.”