Chapter 05
S ighing, I took a healthy drink of my coffee. Instead of making it at home this morning, I’d splurged and gotten us all iced coffee at the shop in town. Lexi liked to think she was drinking coffee at least. Hers was more glorified chocolate milk at this point.
It made me chuckle to watch her swirl her cup around, watching her older sister to see just how she did it. My oldest was suddenly drinking nearly black coffee and it made me want to gag. She’d surpassed me on that front. She asked for a splash of cream and drank it like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted. Trevor’s was in the fridge waiting for him, since he’d told me the other day he had given up the energy drinks.
We’d planned this Saturday to go through my bedroom finally and hopefully get some closure. Trevor was coming over to help if things got too rough for me. A stable presence for the girls.
When I sat the girls down a couple of days ago after dinner, I’d finally laid everything out for them.
“What’s going on?” Lacey was eyeing me warily from her spot on the couch. Already dressed in the sleep shorts and tank top she preferred for bed. Her green eyes peeked out at me from the facial mask she was wearing as she drew her legs up to sit criss-cross.
When had she gotten so adult-like?
Lexi was fidgeting next to her, wearing one of Paul’s academy t-shirts. She’d asked for a few of them to rotate as sleep shirts. They comforted her and I let her take her pick. Lacey had taken a couple as well, but I never saw her actually wear them. I had a feeling she was sleeping with them like a blanket at night. I wasn’t going to pry and ask. We were all handling our grief in different ways.
“Nothing is wrong.” I shook my head at my oldest, crossing my own legs in the recliner. I was wearing my typical sweatpants and sweatshirt that I wore to bed. I always get so cold at night lately, and there was no body heat to keep me warm anymore.
“I just think I need to come clean to you about a few things. I know it's been rough since your dad passed.” I started, speaking softly, trying not to notice the way Lexi’s eyes immediately filled with tears.
“I’ve not been handling it as well as I could be.” I started speaking softly.
I laid out everything for them, within reason for their ages. The fact that it was too lonely in that room. I had been sleeping on the couch where they sat right now every night. Lacey looked concerned and worried while Lexi just silently cried.
“I haven’t handled my grief like I should’ve in front of you two. You all shouldn’t be tip-toeing around me, scared to bring your dad up because I may cry. It's okay to cry.”
The more I’d spoken, it seemed weights were dropping off both my girls' tense shoulders. I regretted letting it go on this long. My oldest’s eyes had sparked when I’d mentioned her father had been the one to finally cause me to break and admit some of this stuff. When I’d suggested clearing out my bedroom, they’d been eager to help. They’d taken what they wanted and what Paul would’ve wanted them to have in the weeks following his funeral.
Everything else I didn’t want or need had been sold or donated. It was literally our bedroom. Frozen in time because I was scared of forgetting the man I’d been married to. I could see the irrational part of that. There was no way I’d ever forget such a big presence in my life. Especially when our youngest looked so much like him.
“When’s Dad supposed to be here?” Lacey’s voice startled me. I hadn’t noticed her coming up behind me in my musings. Glancing at my phone, I noted the time.
“Any minute now—” I answered right as the doorbell rang.
Lexi was running towards the door, always eager to see Trevor, and I heard her excited voice greet him as she shook the ice cubes in her drink again.
“Lex!” Trevor exclaimed “Are you drinking a coffee? When did you get so big on us?”
“I’m thirteen.” I heard my daughter giggling and responding as they walked closer into the kitchen.
My eyes narrowed, taking in the energy drink clutched in his hand.
“I thought you’d given those up?” I pointed at it, tilting my head and staring at him, when I realized he looked good. Low-slung, gray sweats with a black shirt covering his muscular chest and arms. I had no business checking out my ex-husband like this. In the house I’d lived with my deceased husband for fourteen years. Shaking my head I met his eyes again.
His brow was quirked and he had a smirk on his face, like he’d caught me noticing him. I felt my cheeks heat, knowing they were pink now.
“What?” he asked, distracted from my question.
“The energy drink. You told me the other day you’d started drinking coffee?” I spoke again, raising my own eyebrow in response.
His eyes grew big and he shook his hair off his forehead.
“Right...” he seemed to be at a loss for words.
Something clicked in my head. This man.
“Trevor. Please tell me you did not buy a brand new coffee pot just because I was coming by your apartment for a conversation.” I laughed at the ridiculousness as Lacey watched the interaction intently. Lexi had already wandered off, back to her television show.
Trevor shrugged, “You know I’d do anything to make you happy, Mon,” he stated quietly.
He elbowed Lacey gently. “Hey beautiful.” He slung an arm around her shoulders drawing her close even as she tried to pull away, obviously too cool for her dad. He growled and kissed her forehead anyway as she rolled her eyes at him.
“Dad. So uncool.” she turned on her heel, stalking out of the room, trying to stomp her bare feet. Her chin-length hair was up in a sassy ponytail today.
Trevor shook his head, watching her walk out of the room.
“When the hell did she become an adult?” he asked, turning his gaze on me.
I snorted, still overwhelmed at the thought of him buying a coffee pot, for one conversation.
“We blinked, Trev.”
He nodded, letting his eyes run over me from head to toe.
Was he checking me out this time? What was going on?
“Anyway,” I stammered. “Are you ready to get to work? I was thinking of completely stripping everything in the bedroom and bathroom. All decor and bed things. I think a complete remodel is in order, decoration wise. So it feels new, like my own space.”
The man smirked at me again, like he knew something I didn’t and he knew I was changing the subject. I chose to ignore him and walked past him and up the stairs, yelling at my children to meet me and Trevor in the bedroom.
Lacey and Lexi were fighting, yet again. I’d told them they could take decorations from my bathroom and redo the one they shared together, if they wanted.
Lexi liked the barbie pink bathroom the way it was and Lacey was insistent they needed something more grown up.
I could feel my oldest losing it as the other grew more and more whiny. Trevor had frozen at this point, watching the interaction in amusement.
I threw my hands up, tired of the bickering.
“Okay.” I said, crossing my arms and using my best mom voice. “Lacey, if you want to move into the guest bedroom that has a bathroom connected, then do it and decorate it how you want. But,” I raised my eyebrows as my oldest started to celebrate prematurely,"you have to be okay with giving that up for guests when they’re here.” I continued.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” she sprinted from the room, presumably to start moving furniture and bathroom items to her new space.
Lexi pouted after her.
“And why the face? I thought this was a good compromise?” I asked my youngest.
“It is. I like how my bathroom is. But she gets a whole new room and everything-”
Covering my face with my hands, I sighed. Children.
“Okay. Move to Lacey’s old room..” I said exasperated. Now Lexi squealed and took off excitedly.
“And there better not be any yelling!” I hollered after her as Trevor chuckled from across the room.
Everything was bare bones. The bed stripped to the mattress and box springs, curtains down. All the decor and old bedspread and sheets were bagged and ready to be donated to the local center for abused women in recovery from bad relationships.
Becks and I volunteered there together every other Saturday because it was a cause near and dear to her after everything she’d been through.
Paul’s side of the closet was empty now. Shoes and old clothes are going to be donated as well. I’d kept a few shirts and hoodies for myself. Even a pair of sweatpants.
The bathroom was empty. I’d kept a bottle of his cologne and moved it to my side. The morning had been emotional and hard, but it felt lighter here somehow. I was sad. I was still grieving. But I felt like I could start healing now, too.
I had one drawer on Paul’s nightstand to go through and sat cross legged in front of it as Trevor started carrying things downstairs to his truck.
Taking out a few books and Paul’s reading glasses I noticed an envelope peeking out of a magazine at the bottom. Narrowing my eyes I reached in and drew it out.
It had one word scribbled on the front. My name. Feeling breathless, my heart rate sped up and my anxiety spiked. My mind spiraled on what it could contain. I hadn’t gone through anything after the funeral. I hadn’t known this was there. I heard myself breathing shakily as I ran my fingers over his handwriting.
I opened the unsealed flap and drew the paper out, recognizing more of his handwriting, tears filled my eyes.
Monica,
If you’re reading this, then the worst has happened and I’ve been taken from you. I want you to know that, while I love my occupation, this has always been my biggest fear. I’m not scared of dying. I don’t fear what comes after, baby. I am terrified of leaving you in the devastation I know you’ll feel. I’m petrified of leaving Lacey, who I’ve come to love as my own flesh and blood. And, the spitfire we created together in Lexi. If I’m not there to protect my girls, who will?
Logic says Trevor. Nick. Lucas. They’ll all step up. If you’ll let them. Don’t look at me that way. You’re stubborn. Let them in, baby. Don’t wall yourself away. We loved epically. We got to experience what some people never do. You are my North Star. You’re my reason. You’re my everything. It hurts. I know it hurts so badly. But, I pray that this letter is something you find soon after I’m gone, so that you know it's okay, Monica.
It's okay to cry for me. It's okay to be devastated and grieve. But it's not okay to sit there in it, baby. I want you to live. I want you to find love again. You are not the type of woman that should ever have to do life alone. I am not the type of man that would ever expect you to play the martyred widow for the rest of your life. I don’t know who he will be. I have my suspicions. But ultimately the choice will be yours. Fate has to decide somewhat.
Let people in. Especially Trevor. He will love you with a ferocity that can only be matched by me, baby. The way that man looks at you. I know he has regrets. I love him like a brother now. I respect him. I am doing everything but shoving you at him and together. But if he wanted a chance, take it. He was your first love. He loves Lexi like his own. Like I love Lacey. I couldn’t imagine anyone better.
Stop scowling at me like that. You’ll get wrinkles.
Monica. I Love You. With every single fiber of my being. It's killing me to even write this. But I know I need to. Because I know you. This job is dangerous. We never know what could happen. I hope you never have to go through things to find it. But if you do, you need to know all of this. I’ll always love you.
If there’s a way, I’ll be using it to be with you all always. I LOVE YOU, Monica Rodgers. I love our babies. Be happy. For them. For ME. Fall in love again.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Paul 3
Sobbing, I pressed the papers with his handwriting to my chest, taking deep gasping breaths. That man. He’d had everything in order. He knew me inside and out. He knew I would sit in this grief. I was stubborn. Here I was a year and a half after he was gone, just finding this. Just feeling one more miniscule bit of closure.
“Monica?” I startled at Trevor’s concerned voice behind me. Folding the paper and putting it back in the envelope, I shook my head, wiping my tears away with shaking hands.
“Are you okay?” he was standing over me, behind me, from where I sat in front of the nightstand. I looked up at him, tilting my head back.
“Not quite. But I’m getting there a little more each day.”