Chapter 43
Abby
Six Months
"Gimme, gimme, gimme," Ellie demands, grasping at thin air until I hand Erin over to her.
Sliding into the booth while she blows raspberries on Erin's cheek, I notice several patrons turn our direction to find the source of the enthusiastic shrieks.
"You're disrupting the diner, Eleanor," I warn.
"Don't care, didn't ask," she says after one final smooch, perching Erin on her knee and bouncing her up and down. "They should be thanking us for gracing them with her presence," she sings in a baby voice. "I ordered you fries and a milkshake already, by the way," she adds in a normal tone.
"Ugh, I love you," I say, dramatically flopping against the back of the booth.
"Why do you look troubled, my sweet ginger angel?" she asks, setting Erin in the high chair brought over by the waitress and rummaging in the diaper bag for the bottle of yogurt puffs before turning her attention to me. "Everything okay?"
"I don't know," I say slowly. "Yes? No? Maybe?"
"Oh, well that clears it up," she scoffs, shaking the contents of the canister onto the tray Erin is currently smacking ferociously. "Say more words, please."
"I've just been thinking a lot lately," I say vaguely. "About everything."
"Abigail Thompson, don't piss me off," she growls.
"Okay, okay, sheesh," I say, anxiously twirling a loose strand of curls around my finger. "About what I said a few months ago."
"You say a lot of things," she says exasperatedly.
"About not wanting to, you know, find love again."
She perks up instantly, eyebrows skyrocketing and disappearing behind her blonde bangs.
"That didn't last long," she says with an annoyingly smug look on her face. "What's got you changing your mind? Or who?"
She wiggles her eyebrows at me, and is only spared from a scathing remark by the timing of the waitress. Once she's walked away, I take one of the fries and throw it in her face.
"Don't make fun," I grumble. "I'm actually having a hard time with this."
Her expression sobers, and she mimes zipping her lips before folding her hands on the table.
"I just," I say, uncertain of what I 'just' exactly. "I think maybe at first I thought that Little One was going to take up all the space in my heart, and I was perfectly fine with that. But I don't know, I think there might be more room than I thought."
"There's always room for more love, my angel," she says. "Whatever kind of love that may be."
"I'm realizing that," I reply. "I didn't think I'd ever have a love as big as Aaron's. Little One blew that clear out of the water. I think I'm open to the possibility that you can have more than one big love in your life."
Her eyes light up, sparkling with excitement.
"And whoooo might this unanticipated big love be?" she asks in a lilting voice, excitedly drumming her fingers on the table.
"Maybe there's not one yet," I say stubbornly, shoving a handful of fries in my mouth. "Maybe this is hypothetical," I lie, voice muffled by the fries.
"Shut the hell up," she scoffs. "I know for a fact there's someone who loves you big, you and Erin. And I'm going to make you say it out loud."
"I know Jack loves us," I say avoidantly. "He's like family. That's not a surprise."
"You know it's more than that," she says seriously. "You know exactly what kind of family he wants to be."
I do know. At least I think I do.
Think or hope?
Things were tense during the pregnancy—the fresh grief, the shock of going from wife to widow to mother, the guilt, the inner turmoil.
Navigating my emotions felt like a minefield, like one wrong step would irreparably rip me apart.
I couldn't tell the difference between grief and hormones and actual thoughts.
But things have changed since Erin was born, particularly in the last few months.
I feel like I'm on solid ground, like I can trust my own mind again.
The storm has cleared, the dust has settled. And the one immovable, steadfast thing in my life is crystal clear. And it wears khakis and a button down.
"Would that be such a bad thing?" I ask timidly. "To be our own little version of a family?"
"I think it would be the most wonderful thing in the world," she says, voice thick with emotion. "But it would also be okay if it was just you and your tiny angel forever. It'd even be okay if you decided someday to build a family with a different man."
"You sure about that?" I laugh at the crinkle in her nose. "You couldn't even say that with a straight face."
"Well I would obviously prefer not to have another boy in the group," she admits.
"We're already outnumbered. But I'd deal with it for you.
What I'm trying to say here is whatever makes you happy is okay.
Just because one very bad thing happened to you doesn't mean you have to close yourself off from very good things in the future.
You're allowed to be happy, my love. You don't have to wear mourning clothes forever. "
"We don't wear mourning clothes at all, drama queen," I say, voice straining with the effort not to cry.
"Thank you," I add in a whisper. "There's always a little voice in the back of my mind telling me that being happy is an insult to Aaron's memory."
"What would Aaron say to that voice?"
"Stop bullying my wife," I say in a gruff imitation of my husband.
"Exactly," she says, reaching across the table to grab my hand. "Aaron didn't have a bad bone in his body. He didn't even have a neutral one, they were all annoyingly good."
I laugh, looking over at Erin, who's happily shoveling yogurt puffs into her mouth, kicking her feet without a care in the world. She looks more and more like Aaron every day, with her ever-darkening hair and round cheeks. I see it most when she's smiling, which is almost always—just like her dad.
"Still, I don't think he'd necessarily be pushing me into someone else's arms," I counter half-heartedly. "Even he's not that good."
"If he knew you were alone? Yes, he would," she argues. "If he knew it was Jack, who he loved almost as much as he loves you? He'd be the first to get on board."
"I don't know, Ellie Bellie," I sigh. "I want to believe that. But we're ignoring the other half of this scenario. What if he decides he doesn't want this? He didn't sign up for a widow and a baby, he didn't sign up for anything. It just kind of happened."
"Don't act like he didn't actively choose this," she says, almost angrily.
My eyes widen in shock at the stony look on her face.
"Jack Robb doesn't do anything without thinking through it.
And he doesn't do things half-ass. If he's in this, which he is," she continues pointedly. "He's in it all the way."
"For now," I say, voicing a fear I haven't let myself think about.
"What if he thinks he wants this, then changes his mind?
What if it happens years down the road, when Erin is old enough to understand someone leaving?
I don't want to risk that. I don't want to do anything unless I'm absolutely sure. No matter how much I might love him."
I can see the moment her brain short-circuits at the confession.
"Do not make a big deal about this," I warn as she starts practically vibrating with joy. "Just because I said it out loud doesn't mean anything is going to happen. And I'm not saying it again."
"Oh, something's going to happen," she murmurs, a wicked grin spreading on her face. "Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or this month, or this year, but something is going to happen. And when it does, I'm going to hit you with the biggest 'told you so' in the history of mankind."
"And can I just say," she adds in a haughty tone. "I knew this was going to happen from the first time you had a sex dream about him. You can't hide from your subconscious, my ginger angel. The heart wants what it wants."
"Oh stop it, you did not," I say, cheeks heating with embarrassment at the memory. "Not every dream has a meaning."
"Well this one did," she declares. "And it means that you want a yearning, rugged, six-foot firefighter to have his way with—"
"Do not finish that sentence in front of my innocent little cherub," I say, cleaning the tray with a baby wipe and lifting her into my lap. "Even if it's true," I add with a sly smile.
She lets out a shriek, clapping her hands loudly as we make our way out of the restaurant. I don't know if the other patrons found it quite as endearing as when Erin did it.