Chapter 2
2
Lexi
The Inova ER is frantically busy with ambulances arriving one right after the other. Is it always like this, I wonder, or did something big happen? Focusing on the activity around me keeps me from obsessing about what’s happening to Tom. What will I do if they come out and tell me he’s dead?
How do you come back from a second cataclysmic death when you’re only thirty-five?
You don’t. The death of someone close to you changes you forever.
I’ll never again be the person I was before Jim was diagnosed. Sometimes I think about our life before he started experiencing odd symptoms, such as weakness in his right leg and a twitching thumb, both of which he chalked up to overuse in his work as a mechanical engineer supervising a machine shop and in his hobby as a triathlete. He spent long days on his feet, worked with his hands and was always training intensively for his next event, so of course we attributed his fatigue to the activity.
The weakness spread to his left leg, forcing him to seek medical attention that was an exercise in futility for more than two years. We learned that an ALS diagnosis is a process of elimination, which is like a hamster wheel that goes round and round without ever stopping on an answer.
Until it does, and the answer is a death sentence by slow degrees as the body fails while the mind remains sharp, which is the ultimate kind of purgatory for those who suffer and those who love them. It was especially hard on Jim, the most active person I knew until he lost the ability to do the most basic things, beginning with brushing his own teeth and progressing to breathing and swallowing.
Sitting in that emergency waiting room, waiting to learn Tom’s fate, I fall into a rabbit hole of despair I haven’t experienced in quite some time.
The hospital setting brings back memories I’ve worked hard to keep in the past where they belong. For instance, I haven’t thought about the frustrating, frightening journey to Jim’s diagnosis in quite some time. It’s probably been six to eight months since those particular memories tormented me.
The smell of this place brings back the frantic search for answers, as if it happened recently, rather than more than seven years ago.
I fear I’m hallucinating when Iris and Gage walk in through the main doors.
She comes toward me with the determination to help that’s so much a part of who she is. Her wild, curly dark hair is contained in a colorful headband, and her brown eyes are full of compassion and concern.
I stand and step into her outstretched arms, and that’s when I lose the composure I’ve barely clung to since I arrived home to find Tom unconscious.
“Shhh. It’s okay. He’s in the best possible place for whatever he needs.”
“Iris is right, Lex.” Gage is tall and broad-shouldered, with wavy dark hair and an arrestingly handsome face. “They’ll take good care of him and figure out what’s going on.”
I’ve never appreciated the two of them more than I do right now, the undisputed leaders of the Wild Widows, full of wisdom, compassion and advice that’s always spot-on. Now is no different.
“Thank you so much for coming.” I wipe away tears as I step back from them. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Of course we did,” Iris says. “What’re you hearing?”
“Nothing yet, but there was a great deal of urgency when he arrived.”
“Urgency is good,” Gage says. “That’s what you want.”
I don’t want any of this. “I need to get out of here,” I whisper to Iris. “Please. Get me out of here.”
She takes me by the arm and leads me to the main doors.
The second I step into fresh, cool air, I feel slightly better.
“Breathe,” Iris says gently. “Just focus on breathing.”
I do that for five full minutes before my heartbeat slows to a more normal rate. I no longer feel as if I’m about to hyperventilate, which is a huge relief.
“That’s it.” Iris rubs my arm as we lean against a concrete pillar.
“Why does something like this resurrect all the other stuff?”
“Because trauma is a bitch that way.”
Leave it to Iris to make me laugh when I wouldn’t have thought it possible.
Gage stands to my left, there in case I need him. His presence is always a comfort to me. I look to him as such an inspiration for surviving the loss of his wife and twin daughters in a drunk-driving accident. He’s one of the wisest people I’ve met on this widow journey. Thinking about him and all the coping mechanisms I’ve learned from him through his daily Instagram posts is way better than wondering whether Tom is still alive.
What if he isn’t?
I squeeze my eyes closed against a new flood of tears.
When I open them, I see Tom’s sister running toward the entrance. She’s petite with dark hair. The total opposite of her tall, muscular, light-haired, blue-eyed brother.
“That’s Tom’s sister.”
I step away from Iris and Gage to greet her.
The fierce hug she gives me takes me by surprise as we only know each other in passing.
“How is he?”
“I don’t know anything yet.”
“I’ll go find out.”
Cora disappears through the doors.
“I… um… I suppose I could leave now that she’s here.”
“Is that what you want to do?” Iris asks.
I shake my head as tears slide down my cheeks. “It’s not. I want to be here for him, but I can’t go back in there. I just can’t.”
“You don’t have to. Do you want us to take you home?”
“I can’t go there either.” It’ll take years for me to get past the sight of him passed out on the floor.
“We’ll bring you home with us, then.”
“I’ve messed up your whole evening.”
“No, you haven’t.” She squeezes my arm. “We’re exactly where we need to be.”
“I don’t want to hear that he’s…”
“We understand,” Gage says. “Don’t worry about anything.”
“I should tell her I’m leaving.”
“I’ll do that.”
“You should give her Tom’s phone.” I grab it from my purse and hand it to Gage. He goes inside while Iris leads me to his SUV.
“She won’t understand why I’m leaving. She’ll think I’m…”
“What she thinks doesn’t matter right now.”
Leave it to Iris to cut through the bullshit. That’s one of the many special gifts she brings to the widow business, as we refer to it. Her husband, Mike, was killed in a plane crash, leaving her with three young kids to raise on her own. Long after he died, she found out he’d had a child with another woman. Despite that shock, which knocked her down for a minute, she’s still the most supportive person I’ve ever met. Our other widow friends would agree.
Iris is our North Star.
She settles me into the back seat of Gage’s fancy SUV. I think it’s a Range Rover, but I’m not sure. Wondering about that keeps me from obsessing about what’s happening to Tom.
Iris stands next to the open door, holding my hand, while we wait for Gage.
“If you’d asked me yesterday if I could handle something like this, I would’ve said of course I could. I’m an expert on all things medical and hospital… But I can’t handle it. I can’t handle what he looked like on the floor.” I glance at Iris, blinking her into focus through more tears. “He looked dead.”
“He’s not dead.”
“What if he is?”
“Let’s not go there unless or until we have to.”
“I’m preconditioned to go there.”
“I know, honey,” she says with a sigh. “We all are, but just because it’s happened before doesn’t mean it will again. Tom is robustly healthy. I’m sure whatever is wrong can be fixed.”
I cling to the tiny burst of hope that comes with her reassurance.
Gage joins us a few minutes later. “They told his sister he had a heart attack, and they’re taking him to the cath lab for a stent procedure on a blocked artery.”
“That’s good news,” Iris says in a cheerful tone. “See? They’re fixing the problem.”
“Is that… Is it like open-heart surgery?”
“Not necessarily,” Gage said. “I think they can do it robotically.”
“Did his sister ask where I was?”
“I told her you were having a tough time, and we’re taking you home with us. I gave her my number so she can let us know how he’s doing.”
“Oh, that’s good.” I’m so relieved at how he took care of everything for me. “Thank you for thinking of that.”
“Of course. Let’s get you home and settled.”
As if I’m one of her kids, Iris leans across me to buckle my seat belt.
Her kindness has me in tears again. “Thank you.”
She squeezes my arm. “Anything for you.” After she closes my door, she gets into the passenger seat for the ride back to the house where she and Gage live with her three kids.
Since becoming a widow at thirty-two, my fellow widows have become some of the best friends I’ve ever had. They’re the kindest, most compassionate, thoughtful people anyone could ever hope to have in their lives. We see each other through the good times, the bad times and the truly dreadful times in this new existence that none of us signed up for.
They say it’s a club no one would willingly join, but it’s also one I’m thankful for every day. I can’t imagine what my widow life would be like without my fellow travelers, especially Iris and Gage, who set the gold standard for slaying widow life. Although I know for a fact they’ve had their share of setbacks as they build a new life together.
When we arrive at their spacious, two-story home, there’s only one light on. I spend so much time there I can tell the light is coming from the family room.
Her home is our “clubhouse,” or at least that’s how it seems to me, and I’m sure to the others, as well. It’s our gathering place, our safe space, our home away from home, all thanks to the welcoming vibe that comes directly from Iris. She and two of her friends founded the Wild Widows. Tracy has since remarried and moved on from the group. The other, Christy, has recently found new love with Trey, but is still active in our group.
Gage parks the SUV in the garage and leads the way inside through the door to the kitchen.
Iris’s mother, Justine, is there with hugs for all of us. “How is he?”
“In the cath lab for stents on a blocked artery,” Iris tells her.
“Remember how Uncle Bill had that last year?” Justine asks her daughter. “He’s doing terrific.”
“That’s right,” Iris says.
“I’m glad to hear that,” I tell Justine.
“Try not to worry, honey. He’s in very good hands.”
“Thank you for babysitting so Iris and Gage could rescue me.”
She hugs me tightly. “No problem at all. Try to get some rest so you can be there for your friend.”
“I will.”
What will being there for my friend entail? I’ve already spent years as a full-time caregiver to a desperately ill man. I’m not sure I have it in me to play that role again.
But then I think about everything Tom has done for me since I moved into his home nine months ago. I think about all the dinners he’s made for me, the way he prepares my coffee each morning exactly the way I like it as he hands me a healthy lunch to take to work.
He’s one of the best people I’ve ever known, and I already know that no matter what he needs, I’ll never abandon him. But, God, this whole thing cuts me deeply in a place where I’m still far more tender than I would’ve thought all these years later.
While Iris and Gage see Justine out to her car, I bend at the waist in Iris’s kitchen from the body blow that overtakes me at the thought of my kind, decent friend needing me when I don’t have a single drop of gas in my tank to give him.
That’s where Iris finds me when she comes back inside.
She puts her arm around me and guides me to the sofa.
We sit together, her arms around me as I sob. “I hate this. I hate that I’m m-making it about me when it’s about him.”
“Of course it’s about you, too. It had to be so traumatic to find him in distress.”
“It was awful.” The image of him on the floor haunts me. “He… he was fine this morning. His usual self. He made me lunch, like he does every day.”
“That’s so sweet.”
“He’s the sweetest. Always taking care of me, and all I can think about is what if I need to take care of him and I can’t do that? What kind of monster does it make me to recoil from the idea of it?”
“Don’t do that to yourself, Lex. This entire episode has sparked all the latent trauma of Jim’s illness. It’s only natural to run from anything that reminds you of that difficult time.”
“One whiff of that hospital, and it was all there, which is strange because I’ve been in hospitals since Jim died. I was in one earlier to see the baby, and as hard as it was, it didn’t send me over the edge like this did.”
“Tom’s crisis was the trigger. The hospital only made it worse. You were visiting Adrian and Wynter at a happy time, so there’s no trauma associated.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s true.”
“Tom would want you to be kind to yourself, wouldn’t he?”
“He’s always telling me to quit being so hard on myself.”
“That sounds like good advice.”
“It’s a hard habit to break.”
“Yes, it is, but we all do the best we can. Nothing says you have to be the one to care for him. He has a sister and a family, friends and other people who can help. I’m sure his procedure will be a success, and he’ll fully recover, which makes everything about this different from what you went through with Jim.”
“That’s also true.” You see why we all love her so much? “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Cut directly to the chase in any situation.”
“It’s her superpower,” Gage says when he comes into the room carrying glasses of wine for both of us.
Iris takes both glasses from him and hands one to me. “Thanks, love.”
“Thank you, Gage.”
“You got it. Be right back.”
The first sip of wine has the medicinal effect of taking some of the raw edge off my shattered nerves.
Gage returns with a cocktail glass containing the bourbon he loves.
“Thanks for this, you guys. I can’t believe the way you came running for me tonight.”
“We’ll always come running for you, the way you have for us,” Gage says.
We rallied around them when Iris had surgery and radiation for stage-zero breast cancer, but that felt like the least we could do for someone who does so much for everyone else.
I rest my head on her strong, capable shoulder, thankful every day for her continued good health. It never ceases to amaze me how important people I didn’t know when Jim was alive have become to me in this new “afterward” since he passed. They’re my best friends. I’m closer to them than people I’ve known since childhood. They get what I’m going through, and their support makes all the difference.
“You guys don’t have to wait up with me. You can text my number to Cora.”
“We’ll wait,” Iris says.
“I can’t thank you enough for everything.”
“You don’t have to thank us,” Gage says. “You’re family.”
The simple poignancy of his sweet words brings me to tears again. “I want to be there for Tom. I really do.”
“We know that, honey,” Iris says.
“He’d do it for me. He’d drop everything for me.”
“That’s an interesting observation.”
I hear the smile in her words.
“It’s true. He’s been such a great friend to me, and he never asks for a thing in return, as if he knows I don’t have it to give.”
“I can’t wait to get to know him better. From what I already know of him, he seems like a very special man.”
“He is.” I wipe away tears that refuse to quit. “He’s the best.”
“Just think,” Gage says. “If he hadn’t offered you a place to live, he might’ve died on that floor with no one due home to find him.”
“I had that same thought. It’s unbearable to think about what could’ve happened.”
“You’ve already saved him, Lex,” Iris says. “Whatever happens next, he has a fighting chance because of you.”
That gives me tremendous comfort as I wait to hear whether I’ll ever see him again.