Chapter 20
20
Lexi
The others begin to arrive, first Brielle, then Naomi, Roni, Derek, Joy, Christy, Kinsley and Hallie.
“Are Wynter and Adrian coming?” I ask Iris.
“Not tonight, but they’ll be here on Saturday.”
“Oh good,” Joy says. “I need some baby snuggles.”
“Dylan loves his Aunty Joy snuggles,” Roni says of her young son.
“Aunty Joy’s got enough love for all the babies, sugar.”
We fill our plates and form the usual circle of chairs in the living room.
Iris begins the meeting. “I mentioned that we’ve got two new members joining us, and I thought I’d tell you about them tonight so you’re aware of their stories before Saturday.” She glances at Roni.
“The first one is my boss’s sister Angela,” Roni says.
Her “boss” is the first lady and badass homicide detective Sam Holland Cappuano. Her brother-in-law’s sudden death at Camp David during the holidays last year made for shocking headlines around the world.
“Sam connected Angela and me a while ago,” Roni continues, “and we’ve kept in close touch since her husband, Spencer, died from an accidental fentanyl overdose.”
It’s been big news that he bought a lethal dose on the street to treat unrelenting back pain after being cut off from pain medication by doctors. Sam and her team hunted down the dealers and charged them with multiple murders tied to the tainted product.
“His death was such a tragedy,” Christy says.
“Yes, it was, and Angela has been left with three young children to care for on her own, which, as many of you know, is the hardest part. Her son, Jack, was very close to his dad, and managing his grief has been a nearly full-time job for Angela.”
“I feel that,” Iris says. “It’s so hard. I’m glad Angela has decided to join us.”
“She’s wanted to for a while,” Roni says, “but wasn’t ready until now.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting her and doing whatever I can to help,” I say as the others nod in agreement.
“You guys will like her,” Roni says. “She’s one of us.”
“I think you’ll also like Luke,” Iris says. “His son Beckham is in school with my Tyler. Luke’s wife died from colon cancer a year ago, leaving him with four young kids. Beck is the oldest.”
“Oh Lordy,” Joy says. “That man needs us.”
“He really does,” Iris says. “I’m so glad we were able to convince him to give us a whirl. Gage was instrumental in that, letting him know there’d be other guys and other single dads.”
“That helped,” Gage says.
“We’ll take good care of him,” Kinsley says.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it,” I offer hesitantly, “how with the power of hindsight, we can all see that joining this group was the best thing we ever did for ourselves, but at the time…”
“It was the scariest thing,” Brielle says. “What in the world did I want with a group of widows when it was all I could do to keep my own head above water?”
“Exactly.” I smile at Brielle. “I had to be talked into it, but once I was here, the benefit became immediately clear to me. Finally, I was with people who got it, who understood how hurtful the ‘at least you never had kids’ comments were, or ‘he’s in a better place.’”
Everyone groans. We hate that one. The only place he—or she—belongs is with us.
“Could I get your advice on something, guys?” I ask tentatively.
“That’s what we’re here for, sugar,” Joy says. “What’s going on?”
“I told you how I was laid off.”
“Thank goodness for that,” Gage says. “That job was killing you.”
“I’m trying to see it as a blessing.”
“It is,” Gage says. “You wouldn’t have left because you needed the job, but now you have the chance to find something you feel passionate about.”
“That’s where I need your advice. I’ve been offered a position by the local ALS Association.”
“Oh,” Iris says on a long exhale. “How do you feel about that?”
“On the one hand, it would allow me to make a difference for people who really need what they provide. They were so, so critical to helping us when we needed it the most. The volunteer coordinator oversees support groups and things like getting equipment to patients. I’d also be making sure we have volunteer support for fundraising events. As you know, I’ve volunteered at several of them already, so I have a sense of what’s involved.” They all attended one of the fundraisers last year.
“But, honey,” Roni says gently, “it’s ALS.”
“I know. That’s what my mom said, too. I’m not sure I can handle that kind of daily exposure to the disease that killed my husband. But… I keep thinking of the many ways I could help those who are just starting out on their journey.”
“You’d be an outstanding resource,” Iris says. “That’s not even in question. The only issue is whether it would be good for you to give to that cause every day.”
“The only way to know,” Gage says, “is to try it. And think of it this way: At least you’d be giving your time to something you care about rather than putting numbers in a spreadsheet that means nothing to you all day.”
I agree. “Anything is better than that.”
“You’re much stronger than you were when we first met you,” Christy says. “You were in such a fog then, emerging from the exhaustion of years of intense caregiving mixed with deep grief. You didn’t have much to say back then. I used to worry more about you than anyone.”
“You did? Really?”
“Oh yeah. You were so fragile. But now… You’re like a butterfly spreading your wings, ready to fly.”
I’m moved to tears by her kind words. “Only thanks to all of you.”
“And yourself, Lex,” Derek says. “You did the hard work.”
“I suppose I have without even realizing it.”
“That’s how it goes,” Iris says. “You move forward because you have no choice, but at some point, you start to spend more time looking ahead than back.”
“You have such a gift for summing it up so perfectly, Iris,” Brielle says.
“I couldn’t agree more,” I add.
“Aw, thanks. I suppose it’s become my thing to wallow in widowhood and help others, even though that was the last thing I saw myself doing when Christy, Taylor and I began this group. When Taylor met her now-husband, she said she couldn’t deal with staying immersed in widowville any longer, but I couldn’t imagine giving this up even after Gage and I got together.”
“Same,” he says with a smile for her. “I keep writing my Instagram posts because I know they’re helping people, even if my first thought every day is no longer about how shitty my life is or how unfair my loss was, even if that’s still true. It helps me to help others, so I’ll keep doing it.”
“You both make great points. Either of you could’ve moved on from this group a while ago and been fine, but you choose to give back in an area that’s caused you hurt in the past. If you can do it, maybe I can, too.”
“You definitely could , Lex,” Kinsley says. “It’s just a matter of whether you should .”
I take a second to choose my words and get my emotions under control, which is the one thing that hasn’t gotten easier over the years. “When things first got bad with Jim, the people from the ALS Association swooped in and made us feel less alone with our devastating new reality. I’m still good friends with a couple of the volunteers we saw the most often. They made such a huge difference for us, and the thought of being able to do that for some other family feels meaningful, you know?”
“Absolutely,” Joy says. “Who better to step up for a new caregiver or patient than someone who’s been exactly where they are and knows exactly what they need most? And has a heart of gold to go with the TLC.”
“Totally,” Brielle says. “You’d be great at it, and maybe by giving back at that level, the disease itself will lose some of its power over you. Your experience with it will change to something more positive for yourself, even if it isn’t for the people you work with.”
“Wow, I never thought of it that way before. You guys are the wisest people I’ve ever met. Truly. Thank you for this insight. I think I’ll give the job a whirl and hope for the best.”
“And we’ll keep a close eye on you to make sure it’s not too much for you,” Roni says.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Now for important business,” Iris says with a salacious grin. “What’s happening with Tom Terrific?”
Leave it to Iris to make us all laugh.
“That’s the nickname the girls have given Lexi’s ‘roommate,’” Iris adds for those who don’t know.
“If the shoe fits,” Joy says with a gleam in her eye.
“The shoe definitely fits,” I tell them.
“So wait, did you, like, do it with him?” Derek asks haltingly.
We lose it laughing over his embarrassment.
“Sometimes I hate you people,” he says.
“You do not,” Iris says.
“Yes, I really do.”
When I’ve caught my breath from laughing at the faces he makes, I put him out of his misery. “Not yet, but it feels… imminent.”
“Now, was that so hard to just say?” Derek asks with exasperation that sets us off again.
“You said hard ,” Gage says with a grin.
Derek glares at him. “I expect better from you.”
“I’m doing what I can with him,” Roni says with a smile for Derek. “Work in progress.”
Her beloved gives her a scowl that only adds to the laughter.
“We’ve lost control of this meeting, love,” Gage says.
“When did we ever have control?” Iris responds.
“Good point.”
“Lexi,” Gage says in his stern dad-of-the-family voice, “how do you feel about sex with Tom Terrific being imminent?”
More laughter ensues.
“I feel good about it. He is, in fact, terrific and has been just what I’ve needed over this last year as I put myself back together and started to stick my head back out into the world a bit.”
“I’ve absolutely adored hearing about how he’s taken such beautiful care of you without expecting anything in return except friendship,” Iris says. “I’ve been on Team Tom Terrific from the start.”
“We need T-shirts!” Brielle says.
“Oh my God, yes!” Joy says with a fist pump.
“ Oh my God, no! ”
They crack up at my emphatic reply.
“Are you happy, Lex?” Naomi asks softly.
“I’m as happy as I’ve been since Jim died, but there’s one thing hanging over everything.”
“What’s that?” Hallie asks.
“Tom’s health. He’s doing well now, but technically, he survived a widow-maker heart attack, and those words strike unreasonable fear in me.”
“I get that,” Hallie says. “The more involved I get with Robin, the more I question my sanity allowing myself to fall for someone with stage-four breast cancer.”
“You understand better than anyone the spot I’m in.”
“I do, but,” Hallie adds, “what I’m discovering is that the heart wants what the heart wants, and if the worst were to happen again, I’m much more prepared to manage it this time. I have resources in place, such as all of you, a kick-ass therapist and a support system that was sorely lacking when Gwen died so suddenly. It wouldn’t be the same as it was then. It’d still hurt like a mother-effer, but I’m confident in my ability to survive it—and I’m confident in your ability to survive, too, if the worst should happen, which God forbid it does.”
“Hallie’s right,” Gage says. “When Iris was first diagnosed, y’all know I didn’t handle it the way I should have for the same reasons that have Lexi worried about being with Tom.” He glances at Iris with a warm smile. “But when I think about what I would’ve missed by being afraid of what might happen… That would’ve been a damned shame.”
“Yes, it would have,” Iris says suggestively.
“My little spitfire.”
“Do you two need to get a room?” Derek asks to more laughter.
“We got one,” Gage says. “Right upstairs and no kids in the house. We’re heading there as soon as you people get out of our house. And it’s going to be loud .”
Iris covers her face with her hands. “Make it stop.”
After that, we descend into full-on chaos with drinks being refilled, dessert served and much more laughter as the talk of Team Tom Terrific T-shirts continues unabated.
I love them all so freaking much, it’s not even funny.
Tom
It’s boring without Lexi in the house. I, who lived on my own for years with no problem, now hate being home alone. Everything is better when she’s here, which I realized almost immediately after she moved in. My eighteen-year-old self knew exactly who he wanted, and not much has changed in the ensuing twenty years.
I take a call from Cora, who’s kept her promise to back off and give me some breathing room in recent days.
“Yes?”
“How about hello?”
“Okay, hello, dear sister, what do you want?”
“You’re a jerk.”
“You love me.”
“Do I, though?”
“Was there a purpose for this call?”
“To see how you’re doing, but it’s clear you’re fine.”
“I told you to quit your worrying.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Lexi and I stopped in to see Mom.”
“How was she?”
“The usual. Agitated and confused.”
Cora’s deep sigh says it all. We often wonder if the heavy burden Mom took on after Dad died led to her dementia. We’ll never know for sure, but we have our theories. “It was good of you to go.”
We all hate going there, knowing it won’t make an ounce of difference to her, but we do it anyway, no matter how much it hurts every time.
“How’s Lexi?”
“She’s good. Out with her Wild Widows tonight.”
“She has wild widows?”
“It’s a support group. The name comes from the Mary Oliver poem that asks, ‘What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?’”
“Oh, I love that. I’m so glad to know there’s support like that for people who need it.”
“The young-widow experience is unique, and the group has been a tremendous resource for her. They’re her best friends.”
“It’s funny how I never think about what it would’ve been like to lose Paul when we were first married, and the kids were still little.”
“It would’ve been a completely different life. Several of her widow friends have young kids.”
“I can’t begin to know how hard that must be.”
“Be thankful you’ll never have to find out.”
“Indeed. Well, I’m glad you’re back to your feisty, obnoxious self. It’s a relief, believe it or not.”
“I believe it. All is well. Go live your life. I’ll text you tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, Cora, I promise.”
“Good night, Thomas.”
“Good night.”
I love her. I really do, and if she’d been the one to have the heart attack, I’d be losing my shit like she is. The incident has sparked a lot of latent trauma in all of us, and I don’t blame either of my sisters for being extremely rattled by it. Hell, I’m still rattled by it. Nothing like a heart attack to wake you up to how life isn’t a dress rehearsal, and yes, I know none of us gets out of here alive, but I’m not ready to exit stage left, especially right when things are getting interesting with my dream girl.
Speaking of her, I see headlights outside and hear the rumble of the garage door opening.
My love is home, and my heart gives a happy leap in anticipation of seeing her.
I’ve never once, in my entire life, had a thought like that or had that sort of physical reaction to any woman but her.
Others have gotten the predictable rise out of me, but there was never this kind of emotion involved.
“Hi, honey, I’m home,” she says as she comes up the stairs from the garage.
“Hi, honey, I missed you. How was your meeting?”
“It was great. Lots of laughs tonight.”
“Not the first thing I expect to hear about a Wild Widows meeting.”
She takes off her coat and hangs it in the hall closet and then comes to sit next to me on the sofa, curling her legs under her. “We laugh more than we cry. At least we do these days. When it’s new, there’s more crying.”
“Tell me the truth. Did you talk about me?”
“I didn’t, but they did. There’s talk of Team Tom Terrific T-shirts.”
“Stop it. You’re joking, right?”
She holds up her hands as she tries not to laugh. “It wasn’t my idea, but I’m not opposed in principle.”
“For fuck’s sake.”
Now she laughs—hard. “I thought you’d want a warning if someone actually goes through with this idea.”
“Warning is good, but I think I might be busy Saturday night after all.”
“You are not. Man up. You can handle a bunch of wild widows.”
“Can I, though?”
She reaches for my hand and curls her fingers around mine. “Did you eat?”
“Yes, ma’am. The stir-fry was excellent. Thank you.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I made enough to have leftovers tomorrow.”
“I’ll look forward to it all day tomorrow.”
“Are you just saying that when you have lust in your heart for steak?”
“I have lust in my heart for you, and if it means eating nothing but veggies for the rest of my life and I get to spend that life with you, then I’m all in with the veg.”
She fans her face. “You’ve earned the T-shirt with that comment.”
Scowling, I tell her, “No T-shirts. I mean it.”
“It’s out of my hands, unfortunately.”
“You don’t look the slightest bit contrite about any of this.”
“I can’t help if your reputation precedes you.”
“Can we go to bed? If I kiss you, maybe you’ll quit being mean to me.”
Her smile lights up her entire gorgeous face. She’s quite pleased with herself, as am I. Herself is my favorite self in the whole world.
I often wondered if I’d ever fall truly in love. I’ve seen my friends go crazy over women, marry them, have babies with them and walk around with a blissed-out look on their faces that baffled me. I’ll be honest… I was sort of thankful to have escaped that fate when one of them would tell me he couldn’t golf because he had to go to a friend’s baby shower, or another would say his wife wasn’t feeling well and he didn’t feel right leaving her for the day.
What? Okay. Whatever, I thought.
Now, though, as I follow her to bed… Now I get it. There’s nothing I’d rather do than hang out with Lexi as much and as often as I can. The hobbies I enjoy, including golf, have nothing on her. I probably owe some of my married friends an apology for teasing them about their commitments to their wives.
Would Lexi get married again? I have no idea, but I’d really like to know. We’ve talked about kids, but would she want to be married first? I’m not sure, and suddenly, I need to know.