Chapter 3
3
Tom
I have no idea where I am when I open my eyes to bright lights and my sister’s face hovering above me. What’s she doing here? Where the hell am I?
“Oh, thank God,” Cora says as tears cascade down her cheeks.
I want to ask her what’s wrong, but my throat hurts so bad, I can barely swallow.
“Don’t try to talk. You had a procedure to put stents in a blocked artery to your heart.”
What? What the actual…
“Lexi came home and found you collapsed on the floor. She saved your life.”
Lexi… Oh no. That’s the last thing I’d ever want her to have to deal with.
“She was here but left with her friends Iris and Gage. They’re taking care of her.”
That means she was upset, which I can’t bear to hear. She’s already been through so much.
I have so many questions but can’t seem to muster the strength to ask any of them. I feel as if I’ve been run over by a truck.
The next time I open my eyes, the room is mostly dark. Cora is still there, as is our other sister, Lydia, and her husband, Rick.
Damn, if they flew in from Minneapolis, this must’ve been bad.
“Way to scare the shit out of us, brother,” Lydia says as she leans over the bed rail to kiss my forehead. “Glad to see you awake.”
“Sorry.”
That one word makes my throat feel like it’s been stabbed.
“Don’t be sorry. We’re just glad your friend Lexi got home in time.” She brushes the hair back from my forehead the way she’s done since I was a baby. With seven years between us, she’s been like a second mother to me.
“Lexi.”
Cora steps up to the bedside next to Lydia. “I texted her an update, and she said she’ll be in to see you later.”
I realize that I’ve somehow managed to miss an entire evening, and it’s now the next day.
I’m glad to know Lexi plans to come see me. At least she’s not running away from me, not that I would blame her. She’s already done hard time in the caretaking trenches with her late husband. She’ll take one look at me, feeble in a hospital bed, and run for her life away from me.
The thought of that is extremely depressing.
I’ve had a thing for her since I first saw her gorgeous face, all the way back in high school when she was two years behind me in school but three years younger than me. Too young to date back then.
I love to think about the night we ran into each other at a local bar and restaurant and finally got the chance to talk to each other.
I felt guilty offering her a place to live when I already knew that I wanted much more than a roommate. But I’ve put any sort of romantic interest on the back burner while making her feel welcome in my home and giving her a soft place to land after her ordeal with Jim.
That’s been my only focus in the nine months she’s lived with me.
Do I wish it could be more? Hell yes. Have you seen her? Not only is she gorgeous, she’s also sweet, smart, funny, snarky, fun and terribly wounded. So deeply wounded. I saw that the first night, when she told me about her late husband and the dreadful illness that led to his death.
My college roommate’s mother had ALS. It’s a fucking nightmare, and it pains me to think of what Lexi endured. I wish I could snap my fingers and make things all better for her, but that’s not how grief works.
And yes, I’ve done the research. I’ve learned that every griever is on his or her own journey, that the so-called “five stages of grief” are mostly bullshit, as it never unfolds according to any kind of plan, and that the sort of grief Lexi feels for Jim will last the rest of her life. I’ve learned that many first relationships after big losses don’t last and that a relationship with her would include a relationship with Jim and her grief.
I can handle that if it means I get to be with her.
But now that I’ve added to her already considerable trauma, I have reason to wonder if any of the things I’ve hoped for with her will ever come to pass.
Lexi
I wake in Iris and Gage’s guest room after a surprisingly deep sleep. I’m wearing pajamas loaned to me by Iris and an oversized sweatshirt from Gage that makes me feel loved and cared for as I burrow deeper into the soft material to postpone dealing with reality for a few more minutes.
Last night before bed, I let work know I’m dealing with an emergency and will be out today and possibly tomorrow, too. I’m an incredibly reliable employee, so I hope it’s no big deal to take a few unscheduled days off. If it is, I honestly don’t care. I’ve learned what’s important in life, and my stupid data-entry job doesn’t matter in the least to me when Tom is lying in a hospital bed recovering from a heart attack and the procedure to stent his artery.
Not that I don’t need the money from the stupid job, because I do. I’ve got hundreds of thousands in medical debt still hanging over my head from Jim’s illness that I’ll never be free of for as long as I live. I accepted that a while ago. I make the minimum payments every month to keep from having to declare bankruptcy, which an accountant friend told me not to do if I could avoid it because that, too, would stick to me forever.
It’s one of many ways I’m bitter about what Jim’s illness put us through. We were twenty-eight and twenty-nine when he was diagnosed, so no, we didn’t have life insurance, and once you’re handed a death sentence, you’re uninsurable.
Luckily, Jim had good health insurance through his job, and his company kept him covered long after he could no longer work. That was one of the major blessings bestowed upon us during his lengthy illness. But insurance covers only so much, and we tapped it out long before all his needs were met.
Thus the staggering debt, which I try not to think about too often, lest my anxiety be triggered to the point of making me unable to function.
That’s not an option.
Since not knowing what work had to say to my message is more stressful than knowing, I reach for my phone and find a kind text from my boss, Erika.
I hope everything is okay. Please let me know how you are if you get a chance. See you Monday.
I’m such an emotional mess that her words make me weep with relief. Four days off is just what I need to recover from last night’s trauma, to make sure Tom is okay and to see to whatever he needs going forward.
Wait.
Stop.
That’s not my job. I’m not his wife or even his girlfriend. I don’t need to see to anything.
Ugh, I’ve been awake for fifteen minutes, and I’m already spinning.
I get up, shower in the adjoining bathroom and get dressed in yesterday’s clothes, which bear the antiseptic scent of the hospital. Awesome.
Downstairs, Iris is seated at the table with her laptop and a cup of coffee.
“Morning. How’d you sleep?”
“Morning. Surprisingly well. Thank you again for taking me in. I’ll be out of your hair soon.”
“No rush. Have a cup of coffee and some breakfast.”
“I’d love some coffee, thanks, but I don’t think I can eat anything.”
“Not even one of my famous homemade blueberry muffins fresh out of the oven?”
My mouth waters. “Um, yes, please.”
“Coming right up!”
“Did you bake for me?”
“What if I did?”
“You’re too much, Iris. What would we do without you?”
“Aw, thanks. Taking care of everyone is how I take care of myself.”
“You’re the absolute best friend any of us has ever had.”
She brings a plate with muffins to the table. “You’re going to make me cry.”
“It’s true.”
“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
“I don’t think you fully understand…” I shake my head when words escape me. “I don’t know that I would’ve survived the loss of Jim without you and the group you founded and the love, support and understanding I’ve found with each of you. But you… You’re the heart of the entire thing.”
She fans her face as her eyes fill. “You guys give me back ten times what I give you.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is!”
“Okay, whatever.” I take a bite of muffin, and the flavors explode on my tongue. “Holy shit, that’s good.”
Gage comes into the kitchen and goes directly toward the plate of muffins.
Iris lunges for the plate. “You already had three!”
“One more. Come on… I’m a growing boy.”
She snorts with laughter and hands him the smallest of the four muffins on the plate. “That’s it. You’re cut off.”
“She’s so mean to me, Lex.”
The face he makes has me giggling. “Y’all are too cute.”
Jim and I had what they have: lots of banter and good-natured teasing. So much love and laughter and hot sex that stopped far before either of us was ready for that. I miss him so much.
Iris’s hand covers mine. “What can we do for you today?”
“Not a thing. You’ve gone above and beyond already. I’ll grab an Uber back to Tom’s to change, and then I guess I’ll go see how he’s doing.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll drive you home and go with you to the hospital if you’d like some company. Gage can pick up the kids from school.”
“I’m sure you have other things to do. Both of you.”
“We don’t,” Gage says.
“Now you’re just lying to my face.”
Goddamned tears! I’m so fucking sick of them!
Iris hands me a tissue that I use to angrily wipe them away.
Her offer has me almost sick with relief to know I won’t have to face the hospital alone, which also makes me feel sort of feeble. Back in the day, I was a strong, fearless female who kicked ass and took names. Now I need a friend to go with me to visit another friend in the hospital because my trauma has been triggered by yesterday’s events.
I hate that so much.
“Whatever you’re thinking, knock it off,” Iris says. “It’s no big deal to want or need a friend to go with you to deal with something upsetting.”
I stare at her. “How did you know that’s what I was thinking?”
“It’s all over your face, pal. You hate needing help. You hate feeling softer than you used to, before life kicked you in the teeth. I get that because I’ve lived it. One of the hardest parts of this journey is getting to know who we are now.”
“Yes, that’s so true. Just when I think I’ve got my new self all figured out, something happens to show me otherwise.”
“You’re figuring her out, and you’re doing a fine job of it. Will there be setbacks along the way? Hell yes, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t winning the widow game. You got out of bed today. You’re already winning.”
“Thank you. I needed to hear that.”
Gage squeezes my shoulder. “I agree with Iris. You’re slaying it. Look at where you were when you first joined our group and look at where you are now. Give yourself some credit, Lex.”
“Thank you both. Best friends any widow ever had.”
“Right back at you,” Iris says. “Now finish your breakfast, and then I’ll take you home.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“That’s a good girl.”
We share a laugh that further raises my spirits. I can’t imagine what last night would’ve been like for me if they hadn’t swooped in to make everything better than it ever could’ve been without their love and support.
A short time later, we leave Iris’s home in Gage’s Range Rover, which smells as fancy as it looks. He’ll take her minivan with the child seats to pick up the kids. “How sick is this ride?” I ask her.
“I know, right? It’s as sexy as he is.”
“TMI.”
“What?” she asks, laughing. “It is.”
“Have I told you how happy I am for you guys?”
“Aw, thanks. You have, but it’s always nice to hear. We got lucky, and we know it.”
“It wasn’t luck so much as courage and determination and perseverance and a decision to live your best life after the worst thing happened.”
“And a teeny, tiny bit of pixie dust on top.”
“I’ll give you that, but you two overcame a lot to get where you are now. So did Roni and Derek and Wynter and Adrian. I look at all of you and wonder where you get the courage to start over. Where does that come from?”
“I wish I knew. All I can say is that one night, I decided I didn’t want to be just friends with him anymore, so I took matters into my own hands, and well…”
“Wait. What’d you do?”
“I told you that story.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Oh, damn.”
Her entire face turns bright red, which makes me laugh.
“This is gonna be good.”
Laughing, she says, “That weekend at the beach?”
“Uh-huh. What about it?” I still feel guilty about how they all chipped in to pay for me to go because I couldn’t afford my share.
“I might’ve crawled in bed with him and pretended like I mixed up the rooms.”
“Iris!” She sputters with laughter. “ Oh my God! What’d he say?”
“It was more about what he did than what he said.”
“How did we not figure this out?”
“I don’t know, because between us and Roni and Derek, there was enough sexual energy in that house to set the place on fire.”
“What even is sex? I haven’t had it in so long, I don’t even remember what it’s like.” It’s been more than five years since I had anything resembling sex.
“Yes, you do. You remember.”
“I don’t think about it very much. I feel like that part of my life is over.”
“It’s not over.” While stopped at a red light, she looks over at me. “Two years ago, I would’ve said the same thing, and look at me now. Getting busy with my fiancé as much and as often as we can.”
I put my hands over my ears as I scream.
The bitch just laughs her ass off. “Don’t tell me that’s done for you, because it’s not.”
“What if it is?”
“It’s not . You’re just not ready yet. When you are, it’ll be game on , baby.”
“How will I know if I’m ready?”
“You’ll crawl into bed naked with a guy you already love and respect—maybe you’ll even do it on purpose like I did. But don’t tell Gage that. He still thinks it was a big mix-up.”
“Does he? Really?”
“Nah, he knows who he’s dealing with. I never fooled him for a second, but let me tell you, I’ve never once admitted that to him.”
“I love it. Such a great start to an epic couple.”
“It was pretty great, but don’t look at us now and think it was all sunshine and rainbows and wild sex. It was those things, but it was also a lot of compromise and risk-taking, especially for him. He was taking on a single mom with three young kids after losing his precious wife and daughters. He wasn’t sure he could handle caring that much about people again. He didn’t want to care that much.”
“What made him change his mind?”
“He was faced with the choice of taking a chance on us or living the rest of his life without us. We’re rather insidious. We get under your skin. By the time it came down to a decision, he was in love with all of us, so there really was no decision. At least that’s what he says. I know he struggled with it, though, and understandably so. Out of all of us, I look at what he lost and just can’t fathom how he’s managed to go on as gracefully and courageously as he has.”
“While giving so much to other widows through his incredible posts on Insta and his amazing friendship.”
“That, too. He’s the full package, if you know what I mean.”
“Again, TMI. That’s my friend you’re talking about.”
Her laughter has become the sound of joy to me, I realize as she loses her shit while trying not to crash Gage’s Rover. “I’m sorry to be enjoying this so much, but do not tell me you’re done with love and sex and all the rest of it. I refuse to believe that, unless, of course, you really want to be done with it. If so, I respect that choice, too.”
“I don’t know what I want.”
She pulls into the driveway at Tom’s. “Which is also fine.”
At the sight of his house and yard, I’m immediately transported back to the horror of last night and the many other times I had to call EMS for Jim. I’ve never experienced an adrenaline rush that can rival that which comes from realizing emergency measures are required to save someone’s life.
Iris’s warm hand on top of mine makes me realize how cold I am.
I force a smile for her. “Come in while I change real quick.”
She follows me to the door outside the garage, where I punch in the code. “Every time I do this, I think about how he turned over the code to his house, without hesitation, to someone he hadn’t seen since high school—and didn’t even know back then.”
“He knew he could trust you. Remember how you asked around about him? I’m sure he did the same.”
We step into the kitchen, which Tom has tricked out with gorgeous white countertops, a navy tile backsplash I would’ve chosen myself and high-end appliances. “He didn’t, though. I asked my high school friends if any of them had heard from him, and they all said no, which means he took me at my word. That’s such an enormous leap of faith, you know? To let someone you barely know into your home simply because she so badly needs a new place to be.”
“I think it’s marvelous that he stepped up for you that way.”
“And in so many ways since then. Last night, when I thought he might be dead… I honestly didn’t know what I would do.”
Iris put an arm around me. “I’m so sorry that happened to both of you.”
“I hate that I’m still making it about me when it’s about him.”
“It’s about you, too, and I’m sure even he would understand that, knowing what you’ve been through.”
“I hope so.” I look around at the cozy kitchen that, along with the rest of Tom’s comfortable home, has been such a refuge for me. “I’ve been so happy here.”
“And you will be again. I know it.”
I wipe my eyes with a tissue. “Thanks for propping me up. You’re the best.”
“It’s no problem at all.”
“I’ll be quick.”
“Take your time.”