Chapter 17
17
Lexi
While I’m online, I decide to do a search on something I want to know more about: the so-called widow-maker heart attack. I’ve heard the term before but never gave it much thought. Since Tom mentioned his father dying from one, it’s been on my mind. As I type the question into the search bar, I’m aware that I’ll probably regret this, but I press Enter anyway.
Google reports that “a widow-maker heart attack isa type of heart attack in which you have a full blockage in your heart’s biggest artery. This artery, theleft anterior descending(LAD) artery, sends oxygen-rich blood to your heart’s left ventricle.”
With my own heart in my throat, I scroll down to learn the survival rate is a measly twelve percent. I glance at Tom’s discharge paperwork sitting on the counter, and before I can talk myself out of it, I get up for a closer look.
On page four, I find a description of his presenting condition: ninety-five percent blockage of the left anterior descending artery.
I draw in a deep breath. Oh my God. He had the same heart attack his father did. Does he realize that? He must. They would’ve told him that in the hospital when he—or his sisters—shared family history.
I knew his condition was extremely serious but reading that it was the exact same condition that killed his father has left me shaken and needing more information. I want to talk to him about it, but I’m not sure how I’d bring that up. So, Tom, I was reading your discharge paperwork and realized you suffered a widow-maker heart attack like your father had. Did you realize that?
I can’t just ask him that.
My phone rings with a call from my mom.
“Hey, Mom, how’s it going?”
“It’s going. How about you? How’s Tom?”
I push the words widow-maker out of my mind for now. “He’s doing great. Took himself off to cardiac rehab this morning.”
“Should he be driving yet?”
“He says he’s fine, so what could I do? I keep having to remind myself that his situation is not like Jim’s was. He’s going to be fine eventually.”
“That must be so challenging for you.”
“It is, but he’s going to be fine, so that makes it as different as night and day, you know?”
“I do, but it must still be stressful for you.”
“It’s been okay, actually. He’s doing really well and is like his old self. The key thing is making sure he doesn’t do too much too soon.” Including have orgasms . My urge to giggle like a fool at that thought is tamped by the words widow-maker popping into my head again. I knew I shouldn’t have googled it.
“I’m so glad to hear he’s doing well. That’s such a relief.”
“It really is.”
“Dad and I were wondering if you two would like to come for dinner tonight.”
“We’d love to, but Tom is eating super healthy.”
“I was going to make salmon with green beans and salad.”
“That sounds perfect. He’ll love it.”
“He’d probably love a steak more.”
I laugh. “He would, but he’s on best behavior going forward.”
“I’m glad to hear he’s taking it seriously.”
“He is. He says he has a lot to live for.”
“Including you?”
“It seems like I might be on the list.”
“That’s wonderful, Lex. I’m so happy for both of you. He’s such a nice guy.”
“He’s the best, and he’s been so great about being a good friend to me even as he was hoping it would someday be more. There was never any pressure.”
“Does he know about the world-class crush from high school?”
“He does, and guess what? He had one on me, too! He wanted to ask me to his senior prom, but his mother wouldn’t let him because I was too young. So he didn’t go at all.”
“Oh my goodness. How sweet is that?”
“High school Lexi would’ve passed out if he’d asked her to prom.”
Mom’s laughter is such a delight to me. We went years without much laughter in our lives.
“How’s the job search going?”
“Oddly enough, I’ve been offered the chance to apply for something with the ALS Association. Their volunteer coordinator position is opening up.”
“Wow. How do you feel about that?”
“I’m stunned to have the universe show up for me this way, and I can’t help but wonder if Jim is making things happen for me.”
“I wouldn’t put it past him, but, Lex… ALS… I mean, how do you feel about that?”
“Extremely conflicted and not at all sure if that would be a good idea for me. On the one hand, I have a lot of experience that would be beneficial to others. On the other…”
“It’s ALS.”
“Right. I don’t know what to think.”
“You’d be great at it, but whether it would be great for you is the question.”
“Exactly.”
“Sit with it for a minute. See how you feel about it in a day or two.”
“That’s what I’ll do. I’ll reply to Nora, thank her for thinking of me and ask for some time to consider it.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“What can I bring tonight?”
“Just yourselves. We’ve got it covered.”
“Thanks for the invite.”
“Looking forward to it. See you soon. Love you, honey, and in case I forget to say it every day for the rest of my life, I’m so, so proud of you.”
“Aw, thanks. That means a lot. Love you, too.”
After the call with my mom, I push all thoughts of widow-makers aside for now, update my résumé and log on to some of the bigger job searching sites where I still have accounts to see what else is out there. The offer from the ALS Association looms large in the back of my mind, but before I decide about that, I need to check my options. I apply to a few admin jobs, but only because there’s no mention of data entry or Excel spreadsheets in the descriptions. There’s an event assistant position that sounds interesting, so I apply for that, too, even though I’m not qualified.
Hopefully, my experience as a third-grade teacher is proof that I can handle just about anything a job throws my way.
Out of curiosity, I go to several of the websites for local school departments and note almost all of them are desperately seeking substitute teachers at all three levels. It’s good to know that’s a possibility. I wouldn’t mind going back to teaching, but it’s not my first choice anymore. I no longer have the emotional bandwidth to manage twenty children with twenty different sets of needs and learning styles. The door to that career closed when Jim was sick, and I’m not sure I could find the wherewithal to push it back open.
But if all else fails, it’s good to know they’re hiring. When I was searching for my last job, I never even looked on the school sites, knowing I wouldn’t have been able to handle the demands of being back in the classroom. I’m three years out from Jim’s death and stronger than I was then, for sure. However, I’m a completely different person than who I was the last time I was in a classroom. I’d much prefer to start fresh in a new field than to revisit the past.
Besides, how would I ever again welcome a new class without Jim with me to memorize all the students’ names and quirks? That’d be more heartbreak when I’ve already had plenty.
I apply to more than a dozen jobs in total. If what’s past is prologue, I’ll be lucky to hear from one of them.
By the time Tom comes in from cardiac rehab, I’m making a turkey sandwich for lunch. “Hungry?”
“Starving.”
I make a second one for him, but I substitute carrot sticks for the chips he’d usually have.
“Thank you,” he says when I put the plate in front of him at the counter bar.
“How was it?”
“It was fine. They hooked me up to an EKG and had me do some exercise. I go back again the day after tomorrow, when I’ll also meet with a nutrition counselor.”
“How often will you go?”
“Three days a week, which will be interesting when I go back to work the week after next.”
“Is that too soon to go back to work?”
“I don’t think so. I’m feeling pretty good already.”
“I’m still worried about you doing too much too soon.”
“I know you are, but you don’t need to worry. The last thing I want is another incident. Trust me.” He takes my hand and brushes a kiss across the back of it. “I have much better things to do than be sick.”
His meaning registers and makes me feel warm all over.
I’d forgotten what this was like, to be deep in the trenches of intense attraction, knowing what’s coming—soon. The buildup is almost as good as the event itself.
“What’re you thinking about?” he asks.
“Anticipation.” What I’m trying not to think about are the words widow-maker . I’m already a widow. I can’t go there. I just cannot.
He pauses midchew, brows raised as he reaches for his glass of water. “What about it?”
Pushing aside the ever-present fear of someday losing him, too, I say, “How it can be every bit as exciting as what comes next.”
“Damn it, Lexi. Don’t talk about it until you’re ready to follow through. It’s not good for my heart to have all these highs and lows .”
I hold back a laugh when I realize he’s not talking about his heart. “I’m ready. You’re the one with restrictions.”
“Now you’re just being mean to me.”
I lose it laughing, reminding myself that he’s here, he’s healthy and beautifully alive. I’ve learned as a widow that all we have is right now, and my right now is rather lovely, thanks to him. “How do you figure?”
“I have four more days to go.”
“So that means I’m not allowed to talk about it until then?”
“That’s exactly what it means.”
“Then I guess no more kissing or other preliminaries .”
“When did I say that?”
“You’re being ridiculous. Not to change the subject or anything, but my parents invited us to dinner tonight.”
“Good. Keep talking about your parents. That’s the ultimate cockblocker.”
I sputter with laughter. “I cannot believe you just said that about my parents.” Suddenly, my eyes are full of tears as it occurs to me that the banter with him is reminiscent of my relationship with Jim, and I realize how much I’ve missed having that with a partner.
He slides his chair so it’s next to mine, puts his arms around me and holds me close. “What’s wrong, Lex? I was only kidding. I love your parents. You know that.”
As I breathe in the scent of him, the scent that’s become home to me at some point over this last year, I wave a hand in front of my face, embarrassed and overwhelmed at the same time. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. What’s going on?”
“The dumbest thing.”
“No, it isn’t. Not if it upset you. Was it what I said about your parents? I really do like them.”
“I know you do, and they like you, too.”
He kisses the tears off my face. “Then what, hon?”
“It’s just that this, with you, reminded me of how Jim and I were together, and it made me miss him and appreciate you all at the same time.”
“Aw, honey, I’m so sorry you ache for him the way you do. I wish there was some way I could take away the pain.”
“You’ve made it much more bearable than it was before you came into my life. That’s for sure.”
“I’m glad to hear that, but I still wish it could be more.”
“It’s everything I need, Tom. You are everything I need. It’s just that the two things coexist in this crazy mishmash of sad and happy and grief and joy. Sometimes the emotional overload gets to be too much. That’s when the tears show up.”
“The tears are part of who you are, and it’s such a testament to who you are that you still weep for him after all these years.”
“I’ll always weep for him and how he was cheated of the long life he deserved. No one should have to endure what he did.”
“No, they shouldn’t.”
I wipe away the remaining tears, thankful for his unwavering support and love. Being with a widow is never easy, but he always gets it just right by understanding that my love for Jim is eternal. “Speaking of ALS, the local chapter of the ALS Association offered me a job.”
“When?”
“There was an email from them waiting for me this morning.”
“Wow. That’s some amazing timing, huh?”
“I thought the same thing.”
“What’s the job?”
“Volunteer coordinator for the Northern Virginia chapter.”
“Lexi… That’s amazing. You’d be great at that.”
“You think so?”
“Definitely. Who better to help others than someone who’s been through it herself? Although… it might be hard for you, right?”
“That’s my biggest hesitation. ALS all day every day. I’m not sure I could handle that.”
“Yeah, I can see how it might be too much. How did you leave it with them?”
“I asked for some time to think about it.”
“Good idea. Either way, it’s nice to have an offer.”
“It does take the sting out of being laid off. I applied to a bunch of other stuff. I’ll see what happens.”
“I’m sure you’re going to find something you love before too long.”
“That’d be nice. The job search dragged on for months last time.”
His phone chimes with a text that he quickly reads. “Gotta deal with some work stuff.”
“Not too much, I hope.”
“Nah, just stuff only I can do. They’re waiting on decisions from me for a bunch of things. I promise not to overdo it.”
“I’ll hold you to it.”
He gives me a soft kiss. “You going to be okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I promise. Grief makes me weird sometimes.”
“You’re not weird. You love with your whole heart and soul. That makes Jim and me lucky guys—and we know it.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
“I’ll never fully understand what you went through or the depths of your grief, but I so respect the way you continue to honor him in everything you do. He’d be so proud of you.”
“That’s very nice of you to say, and I hope he would be. He told me all the time how proud he was of the way I took care of him and never wavered, even if it broke his heart that my life became all about taking care of him. He would’ve done the same for me, which is what I told him every time the subject came up.”
“It takes a special person to step up for someone else the way you did for him.”
“Hardest job I ever had, but also the most rewarding. I feel like we gave him time he wouldn’t have gotten otherwise. We knew this other couple… The wife was diagnosed around the same time as Jim, so we ran into them occasionally at appointments. At first, the husband was totally on Team Jan, but over time, he disengaged. They ended up divorced. She told us he couldn’t handle it.”
“Poor baby.”
“That’s what I said, too, but Jim said it was too much for anyone to handle, and he didn’t blame him, even if he’d make different decisions. We talked a lot about how no one knows what they’d do in any situation until they’re confronted with it. We all like to think we know, but we don’t.”
“I know without a shadow of a doubt that you’d be there for me if I ever needed you like that, and I can assure you I’d be there for you, too. You don’t leave the people you love when shit gets hard. That’s when you double down and dig in.”
“That’s the goal, but I’ve found it’s not always achievable for some people, no matter how much they want to do the hard stuff.”
He kisses my forehead and then my lips. “I’ll never leave, no matter how hard it gets. That’s not something you ever have to worry about.”
I want to tell him the same goes, but the words widow-maker pop into my brain before I can say anything.
“Off to work I go. What time do we need to leave for your parents’ house?”
“Five thirty.”
“I’ll be ready.” He steals one more kiss and an apple from the bowl on the counter and heads to his office while I watch him go, really wishing I’d never done that search.