Chapter 4 #2
“Maybe you should call Christy and talk to her about the best way to handle it.”
“That’s a good idea. I’ll do that.”
He gets up and then bends to kiss me. “You’ll call me if you need me?”
I take his hand. “Always.”
We gaze at each other for a long moment as a million thoughts go through my mind about life and love and loss and the precarious nature of it all.
“Please be careful driving,” I tell him, almost afraid to allow him out of my sight.
“I will.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I don’t want to let him go, but the kids need one of us, and Taylor needs me. I release him reluctantly so he can go to my babies. They love their Daddy Gage so much and will be happy to see him.
After he leaves, I call Christy.
“Hey, I was going to call you today. You won’t believe what happened.”
“Christy.”
“What? Iris, what’s wrong?”
“Taylor’s husband, Will, was killed in an accident.”
She lets out a sound of agony that’s all too familiar to me. “No.”
“He fell from scaffolding at work last night.”
“Oh my God, I saw something about that on the news. And she’s about to have the baby…”
“It’s horrible.”
“Iris… How in the world can this happen to her again?”
“We’ve been asking that all night. It’s unreal.”
“What does she need? What do you need?”
“I have to tell the others, and I’m worried about that. All we talk about is hope and optimism. Hearing about this could destroy their faith in such things. I’m barely hanging on to my faith, even with Gage by my side all night.”
“I feel sick for her.”
“Me, too. What do I say to the others?”
“You tell them, just like you told me, and you remind them that Will had a freak accident, and despite how it seems, this is no time to give up on hope or optimism for the future.”
“That sounds like bullshit.”
“It did to me, too, as I was saying it, but it’s what they need to hear.”
“My faith is rocked. To the core.”
“I’m sure, but, Iris… You’re our true north, our fearless leader, our first call in good times and in bad…
As hard as it is for you as the person who’s known Taylor the longest, you have to be strong for the others.
You have to show them you’re not letting it knock the legs out from under you, even if it has. ”
She’s right. “I’ll do my best.”
“You always do. And I’m sorry you’re the one who bears these burdens. It’s just the reality of it.”
“I know.”
“Do you want me to help you make the calls?”
“Do you have time for that?”
“I’ll make time.”
We divide the list by the people we’re closest to. I end up with Roni and Derek, Wynter and Adrian and Lexi, while Christy takes Joy, Brielle, Hallie, Kinsley and Naomi.
“I suppose I should text Aurora, too.” She became part of our group after her husband was charged with rape, but she hasn’t been to a gathering in a while. “She knew Taylor well back in the day.”
“Yeah, good idea. Let me know if you need anything after you make the calls.”
“You do the same.”
“Tell Taylor… Tell her I love her, and I’ll be there for her.”
“I will. It’ll mean a lot to her.”
“Goddamn it, Iris. Just God fucking damn it.”
“Yeah, for sure.”
We agree to talk later and end the call so we can notify the others of this tragic news. I’m dreading every one of those calls.
Christy
“Who was that?” my partner, Trey, asks after I put down the phone. “And what’s wrong?”
“That was Iris. Our Wild Widows friend Taylor, who founded the group with us, lost her second husband in an accident.”
His handsome face goes flat with shock. “Oh my God. No way.”
My hands are shaking, and I feel sick to my stomach.
He comes to me, puts his hands on my shoulders and looks me square in the eyes. “What do you need?”
“I… I don’t know.” For some strange reason, I want him to leave me alone, which is a first since I gave myself permission to fall in love with him. Normally, I can’t get enough of him. We have a rare Saturday without my kids because they’re at sleepovers. “We had plans… I just… I don’t know.”
“Don’t worry about anything. I’ll call to cancel the reservations. We can do it another time.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize. I totally understand.”
He can’t possibly understand how this feels, but I love him for trying as he bends at the waist to hug me. I let him even as everything in me wants to scream at him not to touch me, to quit making himself so necessary to me now that I know how easily I could lose him, too.
“Christy…”
“Yes?” I’m stiff as a board and cold all over, as if Taylor’s tragedy has happened to me or some such ridiculous thing.
“Look at me.”
I force my muscles to move as I lift my chin to meet his intense gaze.
“You’re scaring me. Are you okay?”
“I… I don’t know.” I’m shivering so hard, my teeth are chattering.
This whole thing reminds me of that awful day when Wes came into the house clutching his chest with a bewildered expression on his face in the seconds before he dropped dead at my feet from an aortic dissection.
As always, I recoil from those memories.
“Babe… Talk to me.”
“I… It’s got me triggered.” I swallow hard against the huge lump in my throat. “I’ll be okay.”
“What can I do?”
It’s been so long since I felt this way that I don’t remember what it takes to get to the other side of it.
After you survive something like that, you don’t want to think about how you did it.
You just want to be removed from ever experiencing that kind of trauma, shock and grief again.
And now my sweet friend has been thrust into that nightmare again after already having lost her first husband. It’s unfathomable.
I realize Trey is waiting for me to answer his question. “There’s nothing to be done other than calling our mutual friends to give them the news. I’ll want to see Taylor later, if she’s up for it.”
“Whatever you need, honey. I’m here.”
“Thank you.”
I can’t tell him I want to curl up in a ball in bed, pull the covers over my head and tune out everything and everyone forever.
That way, nothing can ever hurt me again the way it did to lose Wes so suddenly and traumatically.
It’s a blessing of sorts that my kids didn’t know Will that well, having met him only a handful of times.
Taylor’s kids are quite a bit younger than mine, so we don’t hang out with them very often.
At least Will’s death won’t be another big loss for them.
But Taylor’s kids… They loved Will so much, and he was so great with them. Those poor babies—and the new baby, too. My God, what a fucking tragedy any way you look at it.
My head feels too heavy to hold up as I’m swamped with exhaustion that reminds me of my early grief after losing Wes, when I’d suddenly hit a wall. That’s another thing that hasn’t happened in a very long time. Moving like a zombie, I get up and walk to the stairs.
I’m aware of Trey following me, but I’m detached from him, as if he’s become a stranger in the last few minutes, or something equally dramatic.
An hour ago, feeling like that toward him would’ve freaked me out.
Now I can’t be bothered to care about trivial things such as messing up my second chance at true love.
I hear Trey talking to someone, but I don’t know who.
What does it matter?
What does anything matter?
Roni
Maeve and Dylan are on the playroom floor in our new home in Alexandria, surrounded by toys.
They’re endlessly delighted with each other, and I’m thankful to her for all the attention she gives to him.
At four, she’s the most delightful little girl, and I’m so lucky to have a hand in raising her, and Dylan is running around at eighteen months.
It’s a big deal to take on someone else’s child, but Derek and I are committed to each other—and each other’s children—and it’s a relief to finally be settled in a home we chose together.
We found a gorgeous old Craftsman-style house that was fully renovated by the previous owner with choices I would’ve made myself in every room. Derek and I are madly in love with our new place, and we’ve enjoyed hosting friends and family here.
I have to be honest, though. Leaving the home I created with my late husband, Patrick, was much harder than I expected it to be, even almost two years later.
The transitions, from then to now, from first love to new love, from my home with him to my new home with Derek…
Each of them is an important part of my widow journey, but the mixed emotions that come with each stage can be overwhelming at times.
Making space for a future with Derek while honoring my past with Patrick can be a tricky balancing act, especially since I was leaving such an important part of my story with Patrick.
We loved our place in the District and spent most weekends looking for antiques and other treasures to decorate our home, much of which has now been sold or rehomed.
“Heartbreak on top of heartbreak” is how Derek described it as we shed possessions from our first marriages so we could move forward in our new lives together. Those months were full of brutal decisions and lots of tears as we chased the joy of our new happily ever after.
I kept a few things I can’t bear to part with such as some of our most-listened-to records, his favorite baseball caps, his signed photo of Cal Ripken and some of the awards he won for his work and have given them special placement in the room I’m using as my home office.
Derek has a similar collection of Victoria’s special things in his office.
We’ve also put framed photos of Patrick in Dylan’s room and Victoria in Maeve’s.
Every day, we talk about both of them with the kids, trying to keep them present in their lives even as I become Maeve’s mother more every day, while Derek is the only father Dylan will ever know.
Life is so strange and painful and wonderful—often at the same time, which can make for a tilt-a-whirl existence at times.