Chapter 18
Eighteen
Angela
Iwalk into the house through the back door to the kitchen and hear Josh crying, so I drop my bag on the table and go to relieve Tracy.
“There’s your mommy, buddy,” Tracy says when she sees me.
Josh immediately calms when he sees me coming. He’s the sweetest, easiest baby, and I’m so thankful for his presence to give us all something new and exciting to focus on, and I’ll always be thankful to Josh for that and so many other things.
“How were they?” I ask Tracy when Josh is happily snuggled into my arms on his way back to sleep.
“A few tears at bedtime, but otherwise, they were great. We played Chutes and Ladders and two games of Candy Land. Ella won the second one, to Jack’s great dismay.”
I laugh as I picture my competitive son being outraged to be bested by his baby sister. “I hope he wasn’t mean to her.”
“Nah, he was a gracious loser.”
“He was? Really?”
“Well, not really, but aunties don’t tell tales.”
“Ah, I see how it is. Thank you so much for always being willing to help me out.”
“I love every minute with them. How was the meeting?”
“It was a tough one this week because one of their widow friends lost her second husband. She was one of the cofounders of the group after she lost the first one.”
“Jeez.”
“Did you see the thing on the news about the construction worker who fell from the scaffolding?”
Tracy nods. “I did. They said he had two kids and a baby on the way.”
“Sounds familiar, right?”
“All too. Did they say how the wife is doing? Which sounds like a stupid question the minute I ask it.”
“As you would imagine. Such a tough thing, and the news has hit some of the widows in the group like a fist to the gut.”
“Understandable. Is it having that effect on you?”
“No more than anything else. I think I might still be numb in some ways. I don’t react to things the way I used to. Who knows if I ever will again?”
“You will. Eventually.”
“Something happened recently that made me good and mad.”
“What’s that?”
“Jack told me how Spencer said he’d want us to be happy if anything ever happened to him.”
Tracy gasps. “When did he say that?”
“Summer before last, when they went fishing. I’m so freaking outraged that he’d put something like that on Jack. Imagine how worried he must’ve been about his daddy after Spence said that.”
“Yeah, that’s a lot for a little kid to process. Did he seem upset when he told you about it?”
“Not at all. He was sort of matter of fact about it, as if he’d had a lot of time to process it and it wasn’t a big deal anymore. At least I hope that’s the case. I guess we’ll see.”
“I’m sorry Jack had to hear that, but it’s further proof of how sick Spencer must’ve been. He never would’ve said that under normal circumstances.”
“No, he wouldn’t have.” I pause before I decide to tell her about Brad. “In other news, something interesting happened tonight.”
“Do tell.”
“My widow friend Brad asked me out.”
Tracy’s eyes go wide with glee. “Please tell me you said yes.”
“I did.”
She lets out a whoop that scares Josh.
“Sorry, buddy,” Tracy says with a laugh as I resituate the baby. “Your mommy told me the best news.”
“Please don’t tell anyone, even Mike. I don’t want it to become headline news for everyone in my life.”
“I won’t tell anyone. I promise. But I’ll tell you how happy I am for you and how proud I am of how you’ve managed the unimaginable for yourself and your kids.”
“That’s nice of you to say. Most days, it feels like a sausage factory from the inside. No one should ever see what goes on here.”
“Your kids are clean, well-fed and well-loved. You’re slaying single motherhood.”
“Only because of the fundraiser that solved my most pressing problem. Brad is struggling financially and won’t let me give him some of the money.”
“Find a way to do it without him knowing where it came from.”
“He’d know it was me.”
“Lie and deny.”
I laugh at the way she says that, without an ounce of irony. “That ought to be on a bumper sticker.”
“If it gets the job done.”
“I’ll think about how I might pull that off.”
“And you need to think about what you’re going to wear on your date.”
“I’ll just wear jeans or something. I’m not getting all dressed up.”
“Put a little effort in.”
“He sees me all the time in mom mode. He knows what to expect.”
“Which is all the more reason to wow him a bit.”
“I’m not sure if I want to wow him.” Suddenly, my eyes are full of tears that I quickly brush away. “I don’t want you to think…”
“What, honey?”
“That I’ve forgotten Spence or moved on from him or what happened, because I haven’t. Not at all.”
“I’d never think that, and neither would anyone who knows you.”
“I worry about what his family would think if they heard I went on a date.”
“How would they hear that?”
I shrug. “People know who we are because of Sam. What if someone sees us and posts it or something?”
“That’s a long shot.”
“But it could happen.”
“Yes, it could, but most likely it won’t, and you shouldn’t worry about it because you wouldn’t be doing anything wrong having dinner with a friend.”
“You know how people spin stuff like that.”
“Ang, honey, as long as you know you’re not doing anything wrong, which you’re not, then you shouldn’t worry what anyone else thinks.
No one else has walked in your shoes or his.
If they criticize you, then they can fuck off.
And you should feel free to tell them your older sister said it was okay to say that. ”
She always makes me laugh. “Got it, thank you.”
“You’d better ask me to babysit that night.”
“Who else would I ask?”
“Mom, Celia, Sam…”
“I’d always ask you first.”
“And I’ll always say yes.”
Thank God for sisters and friends who get it and sweet babies who give me a reason to keep going.
Despite the heaviness of the meeting tonight, I feel more optimistic than I have since that horrible morning at Camp David when life as I knew it ended forever, and a whole new, unwanted and unexpected life began.
Kinsley
I’m almost home when Luke calls me. I’m so flustered to see his name pop up on my dashboard screen that I nearly press the cancel button instead of taking the call.
“Hi there,” I say, thinking I sound calm and cool when I’m a rattled mess because my crush called me. You’re an idiot, Kinsley.
“Hey,” he says, “are you home yet?”
“Not quite.”
“Where’s home?”
“Lorton. What about you?”
“A few blocks from Iris and Gage. My Beckham is in the same grade as their Tyler.”
“Ah, I see. How are you feeling after the meeting?”
“A little shaken, to be honest. It’s hard to hear about one of the original Wild Widows losing her second husband so tragically. Especially when they’re about to have a baby.”
“A few of our members have had babies after their husbands died. Brielle had her Charlie, and Angela had her Joshua. Roni had Dylan after her Patrick died. She didn’t even know she was pregnant when he was killed.”
“It’s all so sad.”
“It is, but they’re doing well, thriving as much as they can in the after.”
“I heard the second year is harder, and I’m finding that to be true. People have moved on from our tremendous loss, not that I expected them to stay close or anything.”
“People who don’t know better think everything gets better after you survive the first year. Some of my widow friends found it was years two, three and four that were the real bitch, and I thought year two was harder than year one in many ways.”
“Ugh, so it can still get worse before it gets better?”
“From what you’ve shared, it seems like you and your kids are doing as well as can be expected. Or is that what you want us to think?”
“No, we are. There’re still some tough days, though.
My older two remember Bella and miss her desperately, while the younger two are aware someone is missing, but they’re fuzzy on the details.
That makes me so sad for them. Thank God for videos and letters and all the things Bella did before she died so she’d be present for them throughout their lives.
She even wrote letters to them for their graduations and wedding days, the birth of their first child.
She made it so she’ll be present for all the big moments. ”
“My Rory did, too. I have them in a fireproof safe.”
“I need to get one of those. They’re in a metal file cabinet now.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“I’m realizing that. I’ll get a fireproof safe tomorrow. Thanks for the tip.”
“You could also have them scanned so you have them saved digitally, too.”
“I don’t want anyone else to see them. It’s like they’re private between the kids and their mother. Does that make sense?”
“It does. I get that. I’ve never looked at the ones Rory left for the same reason.”
“I never thought this would be my life, protecting the last letters my wife wrote to my kids. Fucking cancer.”
“Couldn’t agree more. I hate cancer more than just about anything. It’s taken so much from so many.”
“If there’s an upside, at least they had the chance to write the letters and make the videos, and we had time to prepare ourselves for them to leave us.”
“I had forty-two days, which is still surreal. From jaundiced on day one to dead in forty-two days.”
“That’s unbelievable.”
“It really was. He was in perfect health until that summer when he started having trouble eating and was losing weight for no apparent reason.”
“With hindsight, those are signs of pancreatic cancer coming on.”
“We chalked it up to getting older and naturally things would start to change. We didn’t think anything of it until the jaundice appeared.”
“And by then, it’s usually too late to do much of anything.”
“That was the case for us. They said he wasn’t eligible for surgery because it had already spread to his liver.”
“It must’ve been so shocking.”
“I think I was in shock for a full year. I have gaps in my memories from that first year.”
“It’s all a blur for me, too. You’re in survival mode at first, and the days run together.”
“They do.”
“How old were your kids when Rory died?”
“Four and two.”