11. Now
Now: October 24th
E ver since the bookstore incident, Wendy has not stopped checking in with me. At least once or twice a day she will send a personal text regarding my well-being. Sometimes it’s a long string of emojis. Other times it’s song lyrics, or she will send me a link to go and listen to an uplifting song.
And sometimes it’s a simple:
Wendy
Hope you’re doing something that brings you joy today.
Or even:
Wendy
Are you in the mood for a free coffee? Say the word and it can be at your door in half an hour.
I know, without a doubt, that she one hundred percent means it. Most of her texts just receive a thumbs-up emoji in return, or I’ll simply “like” the message. She knows better than to call me unless it’s work-related.
Today’s text, however, is different from the rest. Today’s is a picture of some type of brochure. I’m not sure what it is but, instead of opening the text, I set down my phone and pick back up the novel I started reading a few hours ago. It’s a thriller from one of my favorite authors, and I haven’t been able to put it down.
I don’t even make it through a full page when my phone pings. Of course, it’s Wendy again.
Her text reads:
Wendy
Just hear me out, okay? It’s a support group for people that have been in a similar situation, and it’s close to you. Like ten minutes tops. I can even take you. I will take you. They meet once a month, so it’s not a big commitment or anything. I have a friend who’s been going there after she lost her husband...
There’s more, but I don’t read the rest. I turn my phone on silent and put it down. Similar situation, she says, as though she even knows half of the story. Nobody knows the full picture but me, and I intend to keep it that way. I pick my book back up and don’t check my phone again until I’ve finished the chapter. Knowing how relentless Wendy can be at times, I tap the screen on my phone. Sure enough, a new message has come through.
Wendy
I know it wasn’t right of me to push you for the book signing. I’ve apologized a thousand times, and I’ll say it again if you want me to. But please just consider going to this. Even if you only go once and decide it’s not for you, that’s fine. You also might find that it’s good for you.
Wendy
Anyways, they meet on the third Thursday of each month at 7 p.m. That gives you plenty of time to think it over. Say the word and I’ll come get you. I’ll even bring that free coffee I promised earlier.
I crack a smile. Of course, I don’t want to go. I didn’t want to do the signing in the first place, and it turned out to be a mistake. Going to a group where people talk about grief and loss could be an even bigger mistake. It sounds horrible. I shudder at the thought.
Yet, there’s a small part of me that believes she might be right. After all, there’s no harm in going once . I’ll show up for her sake and cross it off my list.
Been there, done that kind of thing.
I shoot her a thumbs-up emoji and say:
Me
Me
Sure, I’ll think about it. Better make that coffee a large if I say yes.
Wendy
I can almost see her whooping to herself in her room as she replies with a bunch of heart emojis. A maybe in her book might as well be a big, fat yes.
I’m in trouble, and I haven’t even agreed to anything yet.