21. Chapter 21
As soon as I hang up the phone, it starts ringing again. It’s Katherine. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now. I let it go to voice mail, but she calls again.
“Hi Katherine,” I say.
“Sooo,” She says in place of a greeting, “Do you have something to share?”
“About what?” I ask.
“Listen, Adam just went upstairs to put Tori down for the night, so here’s the scoop, Aaron told him this morning that he’s going to ask you out. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“There’s nothing to tell,” I say, feeling my heart skip a beat.
“Really? I don’t believe you,” she says.
“I just got off the phone with him. I turned him down.”
“Are you insane?! Please tell me you’re joking.”
“No, I’m not joking. I’m just not interested. It would never work.”
“Now, I know you’re kidding. Tori told us you like him. She told Aaron you like him. She skips around the house singing, ’Auntie Loren likes Holly’s daddy!’ It’s adorable. You have to see it.”
“She’s doing what?” I think back to the day I talked to Lisa. Oh my gosh! Tori totally threw me under the bus! I feel heat rushing to my cheeks, a hot flash prickling my neck, and a wave of nausea rising in my throat.
“Loren, are you still there?”
“I’m here.” I grab the first thing I find to use as a fan, which happens to be today’s mail. I think I might pass out.
“Now, explain to me why on earth you turned him down. He’s tall, successful, and available. He’s gorgeous, and he likes you. What the heck is wrong with you?”
I reach for my rings and replay the bad dreams in my mind.
“I can’t lead him on. It would be cruel to him and Holly.”
“I saw the look in your eyes when you talked about him at the hospital. I know that look, Loren. There’s something definitely going on between you two. Don’t even try to deny it.”
“Katherine,” I say, cutting her off, “I had nightmares last night. Justin was there. I miss him.”
I spend the next five minutes telling her about the nightmares. By the time I’m done, I’m crying uncontrollably.
“Loren, you’ve got to calm down, Sweetie. Do you want me to come over?”
“No, no, of course not. You can’t leave your family to come help me deal with my hysterics.”
“Call Aaron. I’m sure he’d love to come over to comfort you all night.”
“That’s not funny!” I say through my tears.
“Oh, come on. I’m just trying to make you laugh.”
“This is not a laughing matter, Katherine. You’re not helping.”
“I’m sorry, Loren. You know I love you.”
“I know you do. I love you too.”
We change the subject and discuss Sunday’s lunch plans at Mom and Dad’s. I wonder if Aaron will be there, but I don’t ask.
When I get off the phone, I shower and climb into bed, knowing perfectly well I won’t be able to sleep tonight.
Tomorrow is Justin’s birthday. He would have been twenty-seven years old. I asked Sam to open the studio for me in the morning so I can visit Justin’s grave with Laura and Charles. I’m taking a small bouquet of lilies to place over his headstone. His parents usually bring flowers and a single Happy Birthday balloon that they release into the sky before we leave.
I start to cry when I think back on Justin’s funeral. Leaving him at the cemetery was the hardest part for me and his parents. After everyone was gone, the three of us stood there together for another hour, crying and holding hands, knowing we had to walk away and leave him there all alone.
Justin and I had been together most of our lives. Not having him there all of a sudden was a painful, jarring experience that I didn’t know how to process. For the first couple of months, I visited his grave almost every day. I took a lawn chair with me and just sat. I would talk to him, cry, and pray, but most of all, I would look up at the expansive blue sky, wondering if he could see it from heaven.
Now, I visit him on his birthday, the anniversary of his death, and the day that would have been our wedding date. Limiting my visits to the cemetery to three times a year was not by choice but by the recommendation of my therapist.
When I turn over on my pillow to look at the clock, I realize two hours have passed, and my pillow is wet with tears. I try to fall asleep, hoping to see him in my dreams again, even if they scare me.
I get up at three o’clock in the morning, and I make some tea. The nights are now cold with the fall season upon us. I pour myself a cup of tea and sit on the sofa, wrapped in a big throw blanket Adam gave me for Christmas years ago.
I wonder if he’s going to be mad at me when he finds out I turned Aaron down. They’re brothers, but Adam loves me like a sister, too, so I don’t see him taking sides.
I think of Holly. Limiting the time I spend with her will make things easier for everyone. She’s getting attached to me, and I’m getting attached to her too. I can’t have one without the other. They’re a package deal.
The sound of a lawn mower wakes me up. When I turn over, I realize I’m still on the couch. I must’ve fallen asleep at some point after I finished my tea. When I pick up my cell, the time reads almost ten o’clock. I overslept! I’m supposed to meet the Clays at the cemetery in an hour.
I get up in a panic and rush towards the bathroom, but when my brain registers the sound of the lawn mower again, I can tell it’s coming from next door.
I peek out the window expecting to see a gardener pushing the lawn mower, but instead, I see Aaron. He’s wearing an old pair of blue jeans that sit low on his hips and a T-shirt that has seen better days. His broad back tapers down to a narrow waist. All his muscles flex as he pushes the lawn mower across the thick grass. I can tell he’s been out there for a while because he looks sweaty but not tired. He lifts the bottom of the shirt and wipes the sweat off his face, exposing his defined six-pack abs. I have to wonder, when does this man have time for the gym?
Justin would much rather read a book than lift a weight. We both enjoyed hiking, jogging, and playing tennis, so he was fit, but he never stepped foot in a gym. At five-feet-eight, he would joke and say, “I’m five inches taller than my girlfriend and an inch taller than Tom Cruise, so I’m good.”
I’m staring at my neighbor, comparing him to my wonderful, sweet, loving fiancé. A sudden wave of shame pulls me away from my intrusive thoughts and the window.
Thirty minutes later, I walk out the door and glance at Aaron, who’s now trimming the hedges that separate my property from his. He looks up at me, smiles, and says, “Good morning.” Before I can respond, he turns away and walks towards his garage. He wasn’t rude. So why do I feel wounded?