ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟜 #2
He jogged down the porch steps, unlocked his truck, and climbed inside. A second later, the engine rumbled to life. He looked up one last time.
I lifted my hand, making a small wave.
He waved back before backing carefully down the driveway. I stood there until his truck disappeared around the corner.
The neighborhood became quiet again. except birds and the distant hum of a lawn mower.
I closed the front door behind me.
Work.
Right, work.
Surely I wasn't expecting anything else.
I walked back to the dining table, reopened my laptop, and stared at the legal brief I'd been drafting. The words blurred together and I read the same sentence three times.
How efficient of me.
I sighed.
My husband had managed to occupy every available inch of my brain. I tapped my pen against the table.
Dixie Armani West doesn't let unnecessary things distract her.
So, what was happening now?
"Come on.." I muttered to myself.
The page remained blank.
My mind had already driven off in a red firefighter's truck.
Working from home sounded luxurious until one actually had to do it. By ten in the morning, my dining table looked like a printer had exploded.
Georgia had somehow emailed me at least fifteen documents.
Half of them were named things like: FinalDraft2_ACTUALFINAL.docx
Which immediately told me they were, in fact, not final. I pinched the bridge of my nose trying to un-tense a bit.
Georgia repeatedly used "their" instead of "there."
I wondered if law school accepted crayons now. No seriously- how did she pass school? She must've secretly paid everyone off because there was no way in hell she worked her way up by intelligence and skill.
And then there was Ted. I had been much more careful around him lately, considering I was working on the Deyes and Andersons case at the same time.
Around one o'clock I got a text.
I looked down at the table. There was a coffee and a half a granola bar.
I sighed.
He replied instantly.
Uh-oh. He'd used the middle name- never a good sign.
I stared at the message before looking down at my stomach. I could do less meals.
Big, fat lie.
"Focus, Dixie."
Instead of focusing on my work, my eyes drifted toward the front window. His truck wasn't there.
Obviously.
He was at work.
My fingers tapped absentmindedly against the table. I checked the clock.
Four thirty-seven.
I looked away before checking again.
Four thirty-eight.
Has time really gone by so slow?
"Seriously?" I groan.
When did I start caring what time Cameron got home? He worked twenty-four-hour shifts sometimes- I'd survived those.
So why did today feel long?
I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms.
"I do not miss him- I'm just accustomed to his presence."
That sounded much more reasonable. I was satisfied with my own explanation.
Five minutes later, I found myself walking toward the front porch just to get fresh air.
Yes. Fresh air, nothing else.
The rocking chair creaked softly as I sat down. The neighborhood was always peaceful at this time. Children rode bicycles, someone walked a golden retriever. Just the usual community.
I checked my phone. No new messages. He's probably busy, I tell myself. A fire station wasn't exactly known for handing out lunch breaks and free time.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket and rocked once more.
Just as I leaned forward to head back inside, someone called my name.
"Is that really you, Dixie?"
I looked toward the sidewalk. For a second, I couldn't place her- then recognition hit all at once.
"Mrs. Henderson?"
Her face immediately lit up. "Oh, it is you!"
Before I knew it, she was making her way up the walkway toward the porch. I stood quickly.
She looked almost exactly the same. Still petite, and wearing those colorful floral shirts she always loved. Her dark curls had faded into streaks of silver over the years, but somehow it suited her.
The moment she reached the porch, she wrapped me in a hug before I had time to think about it.
"Oh, look at you," she said warmly, squeezing my shoulders afterward. "You're just as beautiful as ever."
"And you still give the tightest hugs." I laughed quietly.
"Some habits are worth keeping."
"I suppose."
She looked around the property with a nostalgic smile. "It hasn't changed much."
"No, it hasn't."
"The roses are still blooming." Her eyes wandered over the gardens.
"Cameron insists on taking care of them himself."
"He definitely would, knowing that man."
I smiled. Sounded exactly like him, didn't it?
"What are you doing back here?" I asked. "I thought you moved."
"I did." She nodded.
"My children wouldn't let me live by myself anymore."
"I remember."
After her husband passed away, keeping up with one of the largest homes in the neighborhood by herself had become nearly impossible. Between the taxes, the maintenance, and the bills, she eventually packed everything up and moved closer to her children.
"They're doing wonderfully," she said proudly.
"My oldest just got promoted."
"Really?"
She nodded enthusiastically.
"And my youngest finally bought a house."
"That's wonderful, Mrs. Henderson."
It was sweet how proud she felt about her kids.
"It is," She smiled at me. "They're doing well."
She tilted her head. "Just like you."
I couldn't help smiling politely.
"I don't know about that."
"Nonsense."
"I mostly just argue for a living."
Her forehead wrinkled. "Wait."
She pointed at me. "You're..."
I waited patiently
"The..." She snapped her fingers. "The attorney!"
"That's me." I smile, chuckling lightly.
"I knew it!"
I laughed. "I'm a criminal defense attorney."
"Right!" She clapped once.
"I always tell my daughter about you."
"Really? You do?"
"Oh yes. I tell her, 'That sweet lady from next door grew up and became a big-shot lawyer.'"
"I don't know about big-shot."
"Don't be modest." She waved a dismissive hand.
I looked down at my socks.
"I get paid to argue."
"And apparently you're very good at it." She places her hands on her hips.
"So I'm told."
She looked at me carefully. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"What are you doing sitting out here all by yourself?"
I opened my mouth before hesitating
Saying, I'm waiting for my husband to come home from work..felt embarrassing. And I wasn't going to ridicule myself.
I was twenty-nine years old. Not a newlywed.
Still, it was the truth.
"I'm..." I rubbed the back of my neck.
"I'm waiting for Cameron."
Mrs. Henderson frog blinked, then smiled. "Oh."
"He's at work."
"I assumed. The sweet firefighter?"
I nodded. "I just..."
I sighed. "I figured I'd wait outside."
She looked at me for a long moment, then her smile softened into something almost maternal. "I remember that handsome young man."
Despite myself, I smiled.
"He certainly grew into himself."
"Didn't he?" I added.
"He was always polite."
"Still is." I laugh. He was still kind throughout all my troubles.
"You know, he always waved when he drove past my porch. Darling man."
"He still does that."
Mrs. Henderson laughed. "You two always looked lovely together."
"We've had our moments." I looked down.
"Every marriage does," Her voice became quieter. "Just make sure you cherish him."
I looked back up. "What do you mean?"
She glanced toward the empty house she'd once lived in. "You blink..and suddenly you're sitting alone."
The breeze carried her words away almost as quickly as she spoke them.
"I used to wait on my porch for my husband too." She smiled sadly.
"Every evening. I always assumed we'd have another tomorrow." She looked back up at me.
"You don't think about time when you're living it. So, if he's worth waiting for..."
She smiled. "Wait."
I swallowed. "I will."
She nodded once, satisfied, then her face brightened.
"Speaking of family..." She looked around. "Where's that sweet little girl?"
My heart stopped.
"Ah, Jordyn." She snapped.
The name hung in the air. Mrs. Henderson smiled fondly.
"Remember she used to run over every Halloween?"
"And every Christmas." I finished.
"And she'd always ask if I had more candy. I spoiled that child rotten."
"Yes."
She laughed before looking around again.
"So where is she now?"
I stayed silent. The neighborhood noises suddenly seemed very far away. All of it felt muffled.
Mrs. Henderson's smile slowly faded. "Dixie?"
I forced myself to look at her. "She..."
The words caught in my throat.
Come on Dixie, was it really that hard to say she died?
I tried again.
"Jordyn passed away."
"Oh..." Mrs. Henderson's entire face changed.
She covered her mouth. "Oh, sweetheart, I didn't know."
She shook her head.
"It's alright."
"No..." Her eyes immediately filled with tears. "I'm so sorry."
"Please don't apologize."
She frowned. "Why not?"
"Because you couldn't have known."
"What happened?" She reached for my hand anyway.
I stared at our hands, interlocked. For a moment, I considered lying.
"She had a stroke."
Mrs. Henderson inhaled sharply. "My goodness..."
"We were with her," I could barely hear my own voice. "Cameron and I were both at the hospital."
"Until the end."
Mrs. Henderson squeezed my hand. "I'm so sorry."
I nodded, looking down once again before biting my lower lip. She looked at me for a long moment before speaking again.
"When my husband died, I thought the grief would leave."
I looked up.
"It totally doesn't."
I listened quietly.
"It stops feeling like a storm." She smiled sadly.
"It becomes the ocean-you still carry it every day."
I frowned slightly. She gently patted my hand.
"But eventually, you learn how to float. Like me."
I felt my eyes sting. "I don't think I'm very good at floating."
"No, not yet." She smiled.
"But you're still here, and so is Cameron. Hold onto each other."
"Because grief has a nasty habit of convincing people they have to carry it alone."
I thought about Cameron for a short while.
"We're trying."
"I can tell."