Chapter 9
Nine
Angela
After it starts to rain at the park, Brad invites us to their house for homemade pizza. Since Jack perks up considerably at the word pizza, I accept the invitation even though I feel sort of guilty for enjoying my time with Brad and his kids so much when I’m supposed to be mourning my late husband.
Watching Jack play catch with Brad left me deep in my feels and stirred an aching grief for my son, who loved playing with his dad so, so much.
It didn’t matter what they were doing, Jack was enthralled by everything Spencer said and did.
My little boy is hungry for the male attention he used to get every day from Spence.
Brad gave him what he needed while I kept an eye on all the other kids, and afterward, Jack seems more animated than I’ve seen him in months.
I also feel guilty for thinking Brad is handsome and kind and, well, sexy. I love watching him care for his kids and respect the enormous amount of patience it takes to guide little ones who lack the ability to understand what’s happened to their missing parent. The questions are relentless.
“Why did Mommy have to leave?”
“Will Daddy be there when we get home?”
“Can I call Mommy?”
“Do you think Daddy misses me?”
Just when we think they’ve asked us every knife-sharp question they have, there’ll be another one to shred us.
We’ve fallen into the habit of texting the questions to each other, to the only person we both know who’s going through the same exact thing.
I catch him watching me when he thinks I’m otherwise occupied, and each time that happens, a bolt of heat travels through me, landing in a flush on my face that I’m sure he must notice.
Do I care if he notices? Not the way I should.
This entire situation has left me fresh out of fucks for things that would’ve been unthinkable before my husband died suddenly, leaving me with two grief-stricken little kids and a baby who’ll never know his father.
The only fucks I have left are for getting myself and my kids through each day and then getting up and doing it again the next day.
Anything other than that barely registers with me.
However, Brad Albright is registering with me, and to be honest, that feels better than anything has since disaster struck.
He’s tall, blond and muscular. The hint of blond stubble on his face and jaw is sexier than hell, and so’s the way his faded jeans cling to his ass.
I’m going straight to hell for noticing another man so soon after I lost the husband I loved for more than ten years. Eighteen months later, I feel like I’m starting to come out of the state of deep numbness I’ve been in since that awful day at Camp David when Spencer wouldn’t wake up.
Part of me wonders if my infatuation is the direct result of that disaster.
Sometimes I feel like Brad and I are the only two adult survivors of an apocalypse, left with five kids to guide through the unthinkable on our own.
We’re both blessed with tremendous family support and friends who’ve shown up consistently since our losses, but at the end of the day, we’re alone with our kids in homes we used to share with our spouses.
The loneliness of those long nights must be experienced to be understood.
Brad gets it like no one else, and I find myself turning to him more and more often when things go sideways—which they do far too often for my liking. Such as the day last week when Jack somehow managed to clog the second-floor toilet, and water was spilling onto the floor at an alarming rate.
I called Brad. He told me to shut off the water to the toilet, which hadn’t occurred to me in my panic. Then, while his kids were at school and daycare, he came over to unclog the toilet for me.
Way above and beyond the call of new friendship, but he shows up for me, and I do for him, too. When Daphne spiked a high fever a couple of weeks ago, he brought Drake to my house while he took her to urgent care.
At some point over the last year, we’ve become each other’s go-to person.
I sit at the island in his kitchen, holding Josh, while Brad supervises the four kids placing pepperoni on their pizza. Then he goes to the fridge and returns with a container of pineapple that he hands to Jack.
Jack smiles as he takes it from him. “You remembered.”
“I did.”
The look that passes between the two of them goes straight to my heart.
“What do you say, Jack?”
“Thank you, Mr. Albright.”
“You should call me Brad. The mister thing is too formal for close friends like us.”
“My mom says we have to be respectful to our elders.”
“That’s very true, unless your elder gives you permission to call him by his first name.”
Jack shoots a wistful look my way. “Is it okay, Mom?”
“Since Brad suggested it, I think it’s fine.”
Brad extends a hand that Jack takes and gives a shake. “Looks like we have a deal, my friend.”
I’m going to cry, and I can’t do that in front of the kids. I get up and take Josh into the living room to cuddle with him.
Brad comes after me a few minutes later.
“Pizzas are in the oven, and the kids are coloring at the table.” He sits next to me on the sofa and puts his feet up on the coffee table.
Photos of his late wife are all over the house, but the one from their wedding on the side table gets me every time. They were such a gorgeous couple.
“Thank you for getting the pineapple. That was very nice of you.”
“I remembered he likes that combo.”
“Not sure where he first had that, but he loves it.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, you know… Just seeing him smile… Thank you so much for today. It meant so much to him to play catch with you and to have the pineapple. Not to mention calling you by your first name.”
“I should’ve asked you first.”
“No, not at all. It was perfect just like that.”
He runs a hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled as he releases a sigh. “Today started out rough and turned into a good day.”
I want to reach over and straighten his hair, but I don’t dare touch him. God knows what that’ll lead to with five little kids underfoot. None of us is ready for anything more than what this is right now.
Friendship. Comfort. Understanding.
With a side of attraction tossed in for good measure.
I’m going straight to hell.
Lexi
Today has been right out of a dream. Tom planned every minute, right down to a candlelight dinner at the restaurant where we reconnected after not seeing each other since high school.
That was the night he casually offered me a way out of my parents’ basement, where I’d been living since my husband, Jim, and I moved in with them after he was diagnosed with ALS.
More than a year after Jim’s death, I was stuck in the place where my worst nightmare unfolded because I was saddled with crippling debt from his illness.
Now, I’m in love with Tom, and my dear friend Joy found a way out of the debt through a program for people like me, and suddenly, life is sweet again—and getting sweeter all the time.
I had no idea Tom was planning to propose today.
I thought it was just another autumn Saturday spent doing something outdoors.
Every weekend is another adventure. We’ve hit a number of fall festivals, done some long hikes and taken a pumpkin-carving class at a local garden shop.
So when he suggested Skyline Drive today, I didn’t think anything of it beyond a fun day in a beautiful place.
As we ride home from the restaurant, I can’t stop staring at my ring, which reflects each streetlight we pass.
I told my Widows, because of course I did, but I still need to tell my parents, who’ll be absolutely thrilled for both of us.
He needs to tell his sisters. We’ll do that tomorrow in person rather than with a call or text.
The news will keep.
After Jim’s horrific illness and premature death, I honestly never expected to feel this kind of joy again.
I thought that was over for me, and in a way, I was fine with it because my relationship with Jim was extraordinary in every way.
I had my great love, and I was grateful for every minute I spent with him, even the difficult time at the end.
But then came Tom to show me that I still have a great big, beautiful life left to live and that joy and love are still possible.
He reaches over to put his hand on top of mine, his thumb caressing the stunning diamond ring he gave me earlier. “How’re you feeling, hon?”
“Thrilled, excited, stunned, happy.”
“All good things, right?”
“The best things. Thank you for the most amazing day.”
“I was so nervous this morning. I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”
“Why were you nervous? You knew I’d say yes.”
“I was worried about doing it at Skyline Drive. I debated that endlessly, but my gut kept pushing me in that direction. I wanted Jim there with us. I thought that was important.”
“It was perfect, and the fact that you thought of him makes you perfect for me.”
“He’ll always be part of us. I promise.”
“My widow friends talk about meeting guys who are threatened by the fact that they still love their late husbands. They can’t handle sharing someone, even with a dead man. It means a lot to me that you’re comfortable with keeping my love for Jim part of our relationship.”
“Of course it is. He’s part of you, and I love all of you.”
“How lucky am I?”
“How lucky are we?”
“Very. I never take it for granted.”
“I don’t either.”
Ever since his cardiac episode, he’s stuck closely to a low-cholesterol diet and faithfully attended cardiac rehab until he graduated.
Now he goes to the gym at least four times a week to continue the exercises he did in rehab.
He’s lost about fifteen pounds and is leaner, trimmer, more muscular as a result of the changes he’s made.