Chapter 8
Eight
Taylor
Matt takes Iris’s place on the coffee table. Whereas Will had dark hair and brown eyes, Matt favors their mother, with reddish-brown hair and blue eyes. “Do you need anything?”
“I’m okay. Thanks.”
His jaw clenches as he seems to struggle with his emotions.
Will always said Matt has no emotions and for most of his life didn’t care about anyone but himself, so it’s somewhat shocking to see tears in his eyes. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“I know. It’s a terrible shock to all of us.”
“He was so, so excited about the baby. It was all he talked about.”
“Yes, it was.” The baby chooses that moment to deliver a swift kick to my ribs.
“Oh, wow. I saw that. It must feel so weird.”
“I’m used to it by now. This is my third time.”
“Right. So, I wanted to tell you… I… um… I want to be here for you and the kids. All of them, the way Will was. That’s what he’d want me to do.”
“I appreciate that, Matt, but we’ll be okay. I mean, you’re more than welcome to come see the baby any time you want.”
“I want to see Eliza and Miles, too. They’re part of our family after all this time. I don’t want them to think we’ve forgotten about them. My parents feel the same way.”
“It’s very kind of you to think of them.”
“Will was so happy with you and the kids.”
“We were happy with him, too. I’m not sure how we’ll go on without him. He was everything to us.”
“I want you to call me. Any time you need anything. I’ll be there for you. I mean it, Taylor. I know I haven’t been the most reliable guy in the past, but I want to be there for you and the kids, the way Will would want me to be.”
I’m not so sure Will would want that, but I don’t have the heart to say such a thing to him. “Thank you, Matt. I appreciate it.”
“You have my number, right?”
“I do.” I also know he’s the last person I’d call in a crisis. Or, I guess I should say, another crisis.
Iris returns with the soup she made for me, which gives Matt a reason to go back to wherever he was before he came in to talk to me. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just Will’s fuck-up younger brother saying he’s going to be there for anything I need.”
“Ah, well, that’s nice of him.”
“What’s funny is this time around, I recognize the gestures for what they are, whereas when Greg died, I thought everyone meant what they said. I know better now. I’m an experienced widow.”
Iris’s lips quiver with the start of a laugh.
“It’s okay to laugh at the sheer madness of this whole situation.”
“Except it’s not funny.”
“Remember what we always say—if we don’t laugh, we’ll never stop crying.”
She hands me a mug with chicken noodle soup that smells so good, my stomach rumbles with interest.
“Thank you.”
“Here are some crackers, too.”
“You’re the best.” After I take a few delicious sips of the soup, I glance at her. “I’m sure you and Gage have stuff you need to be doing.”
“We’re where we need to be.”
“Will’s mom texted me about going to the funeral home…”
“Do you want us to go for you?”
“I can’t ask you guys to do that.”
“You didn’t. I offered.”
“It’s too much, Iris. That’s the last place you or Gage need to be.”
“It’s the last place you need to be. Stay home with your kids. We’ll meet Will’s parents there.”
I don’t feel right about asking two widows to go to a funeral home when it’s not their family member who’s died. “Are you sure? You should think about that. I don’t want my tragedy to be a setback for you guys.”
“We’re okay, and we’ll take care of anything you need. Do you have any idea what he would’ve wanted?”
Resigned and relieved to accept their kind offer, I say, “He said he didn’t want to take up room by being buried, and I agreed with him, so we said we’d be cremated.
His mom will want the big Catholic funeral, even though he was lapsed, so she can do what she wants as long as he’s cremated after.
” I can’t believe I’m talking about turning my sweet Will into ashes when he was just here.
Fucking tears. How do I have any left after losing two husbands? I dab at them with the napkin Iris hands me.
“How am I talking about funeral homes? Again. It’s surreal.”
“It’s beyond surreal.” She glances at the wedding photo of Will, me and the kids, the day we officially became a family. In many ways, that was the happiest day of my life because it was proof I’d survived losing Greg.
Hold my beer, said the universe. Not so fast.
“I must’ve really pissed someone off in a past life.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“How else to explain the unexplainable?”
“I don’t know, but it’s nothing you did or didn’t do—in any life. I refuse to believe that. Greg and Will wouldn’t want you to think that way.”
“How is this my life, Iris? How?”
“I don’t know, sweetie, but I have to think that your story is still being written, and this is another chapter. Certainly not the end.”
“It feels like the end of everything good.”
“As you know, that particular feeling passes in time, even as the grief remains.”
“All I see is a long, dark tunnel before me with no light at the end.”
“The light will come back. I promise. And in the meantime, I’ll be here for you, and the Wild Widows will be here for you, for as long as you need us.”
“I wouldn’t feel right going back to that group after leaving when I found my new happily ever after.”
“Don’t be silly. That group exists in large part because of you, and you’d be welcomed back with open arms by everyone.”
“I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”
“You don’t have to decide anything today or tomorrow. Just focus on getting through each hour, and we’ll talk about all that stuff later.”
I hear the doorbell ring, and Christy comes in a few minutes later, walking right over to me and Iris to hug us both. It’s clear to me that she’s been crying.
“I’m so, so sorry, Tay.”
“Thank you for coming.”
“I brought some food. I didn’t know what you might need.”
“That’s very nice of you.”
She sits next to Iris on the coffee table and puts her arm around her. “What can I do?”
“I was just telling Taylor we’ll be there for her for the long haul, regardless of her not staying active in the group.”
“Of course we will. That’s not even a question.”
“Love you guys,” I tell them with more damned tears filling my eyes.
“We love you, too.”
Iris
Taylor is right about one thing—a funeral home is the last place Gage or I want to be, but we do it for her so she can keep her feet up and hopefully alleviate the swelling that has her looking at a potential early delivery of the baby.
We bring the favorite shirt and jeans that Taylor chose for Will. Helping her make those decisions was brutal. Every piece of clothing brought back another memory of the man who’s now gone forever.
Since we met Will’s parents, Claire and Frank, last night, they thank us for coming and offer us seats at the conference room table, where the funeral director has set out refreshments that none of us want.
We go over the details of the service and let them know that Taylor intends to write the obituary but would appreciate their input.
Pallbearers are discussed, hymns and readings are chosen, and the program for the funeral begins to come together under the funeral director’s gentle guidance.
“Taylor indicated that Will wished to be cremated.”
“Oh,” Claire says, her face flat with shock, “he never mentioned that to us. We assumed he’d be buried in the family plot.”
“He told Taylor he didn’t want to take up space on the earth and wished to be cremated.”
“That… that’s not what we want.”
“It’s what he wanted, Mrs. Lonergan, and it’s what his wife wants.”
She doesn’t care for that, but I don’t look away until she does.
I hope she gets the message that Taylor’s—and Will’s—wishes take precedence over hers.
Not that my heart doesn’t ache for them both, because it does.
Dear God, the thought of losing my adult child in the prime of his life is one of the worst things I can imagine.
But Will was a grown man with a wife and family.
If necessary, I’ll remind them that his wife deferred to them on a Catholic service that Will wouldn’t have wanted, but Taylor won’t back down about the cremation.
Thankfully, Claire gives up without further argument on that point, and we conclude our business at the funeral home. The wake is set for Sunday, from four to eight p.m., and the service will be held the following morning at St. James Catholic Church in Falls Church.
Outside, I take deep breaths of chilly air as Gage holds the passenger door of his car for me. “Where to?”
“Back to Taylor’s, I guess.”
“I think we should go home and get some rest. You won’t be any good to her if you get sick or run down.”
He’s aware that I get tired more easily than I did before I was treated for breast cancer and is vigilant about making sure I take care of myself. I want to be with Taylor, but he’s right. I’m running on empty after the sleepless night followed by the long, difficult day. “Okay.”
“That was easier than I expected it to be.”
“I’m an agreeable kind of girl.”
His snort of laughter makes me smile. “Sure you are.”
After he gets into the driver’s seat, I reach for his hand. “Thank you for coming with me on this dreadful mission. It’s above and beyond the call of duty for a widower.”
“Nothing you need is above my call of duty, love, even a trip to a funeral home. I’m not sure that Taylor would’ve had it in her to fight for what she and Will wanted the way you did.”
“I felt bad about that. The woman just lost her son.”
“Her son’s wishes must be respected. You made sure they were.”
“What an awful situation.”
“It sure is.”
On the way home, I get a text from my widow friend Joy. Dear God, Iris, I just heard from Christy about Taylor’s husband. I’m heartbroken for her. What can I do?
Joy joined the group about six months before Taylor’s last meeting.
I call her. “Hey, hon. There’s not much we can do but be there for her. The wake is Sunday, and the funeral is Monday.”
“I’ll be there for both and take her some food in a week or two when the influx dies down.”
“She’ll appreciate that.”
“Good Lord, Iris. How can this happen to someone twice?”
“It’s impossible to believe.”
“And with the baby due any time, too.”
“I know.”
“So I’m not sure if you’ve looked at your phone in the last hour or so, but Lexi sent a photo of her and Tom. They got engaged today.”
“Oh, wow. That’s fantastic news.” I hold the phone aside to tell Gage, who smiles widely. “I’ll text her when I get home.”
“I got the feeling she doesn’t know about Taylor.”
“I haven’t had the chance to call her, and I doubt Christy or any of the others will say anything about it to her today. Tomorrow will be soon enough.”
“Yeah, for sure. What a day of soaring highs and crushing lows.”
“For real.”
“How are you doing? I’m sure you’ve been by her side since you got the news.”
“Gage and I were with her at the hospital last night and today at her house. She’s in shock of course and having a few issues with the pregnancy that might require an early delivery.”
“When it rains… I’ll be praying for her and her sweet kids.”
“Thanks, Joy. I’ll send more info after I get the chance to talk to Lexi tomorrow.”
“Let me know if there’s anything at all I can do for Taylor or for you. Anything, Iris.”
“Thanks, love. I’ll let Taylor know you’re praying for her and the kids.”
“Yes, please do, and make sure you take care of you while you’re taking care of everyone else.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Are we still meeting this week?”
“I think we probably should. This news is shaking the foundation under all of us. We need to keep each other close.”
“Couldn’t agree more. I’ll be there.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, too. Tell Gage I love him, too.”
“I will.”
I sigh as I end the call.
“Great news about Lexi and Tom,” Gage says.
“Yes, for sure. I wish I didn’t have to tell her about Taylor when she’s so happy.”
“She’d want to know.”
“Yeah, she would.”
Gage gives my hand a squeeze. “I heard what Mama Joy said about taking care of you while you’re taking care of everyone else. I’m going to make sure you do that.”
“Thank you for being my biggest supporter. All I can think about is how I would feel if this happened to me.” I glance his way. “You’d better never do this to me, you hear?”
“I hear, and I’m not going anywhere.”
I want to make him swear to it, but that wouldn’t be fair. We both know all too well that there’re no guarantees in this thing we call life.