Chapter 16 The Illusion of Grief
THE ILLUSION OF GRIEF
Saturn by Sleeping At Last
Natalie
“You’re going to scare customers away!” I shout to Cara and Allie, who are both running around the store chasing Nico and Vero. “You’re pregnant, Cara. Be careful!”
“I’m pregnant, not dead. I can run.” She’s almost out of breath when she catches Nico and lifts him, feet in the air and head upside down.
“Me, me, me!” Vero shouts, and Allie does the same thing Cara did.
So now there are two toddlers upside down, shouting as my friends walk around.
It had been silent this afternoon, and Allie asked if they could pick up Vero to come here and read some books, hang out.
I, of course, said yes, I want them here.
I love catching up and talking to my friends, especially if I’m working.
Body doubling at its finest, and I get to catch up.
Which we did, for a couple of hours. The kids were getting restless, and they decided to play whatever game this is. I can’t keep up with them.
School starts in a few weeks, and I’m ready to get back to our routine.
I’m definitely ready for more steady clients, which usually happens from August until February.
The back-to-school rush, plus fall, and then the holidays right after, is the best season for us.
My parents always visit and bring so much wine.
They opened their vineyard a decade ago in Tennessee.
It’s beautiful, and they love it. I carry a large selection of their wine here, especially the peach one, which is my best seller.
They spend two weeks with us every fall and every spring, and I look forward to both.
We’re not extremely close, but I enjoy their company, and they enjoy the girls.
My mother also cooks most of the time, so I get a little break from the kitchen.
“All done, all done!” Vero shouts, blowing raspberries and snapping me back into the moment.
Cara is tickling her, her feet kicking in the air while Allie settles on the floor cushion in the kids’ corner.
Cara stops immediately, and Vero crawls away from her, straight to Allie.
She’s so comfortable with all my friends, but especially with these two, and it makes my heart so happy.
The bell announces someone entering, and my usual “Welcome to The Blooming Wine!” greets Holden, but my smile falters when I see the turbulence in his eyes.
I walk to him, ignoring everything else. “Hey, are you okay?” I whisper, but it still takes him by surprise. I resist the urge to touch his face, as if somehow feeling his skin under my fingertips would make me feel like I'm helping.
He looks torn.
“What’s wrong?”
He searches the room, his eyes landing on my friends and the kids before he shakes his head. “Nothing. I’m going to browse for a second.”
I nod. “Those are my friends, and they don’t need me right now. If you do, I’m here.” I offer him a soft smile, trying not to come on too strong, allowing time for him to settle, to know I’m here but also with enough space to let him breathe.
“Could I have some coffee?”
“Of course.” We walk side by side to our usual spot, him on the chair and me behind the counter.
I don’t ask if he wants me to surprise him; I can tell he does.
He deserves a hug in a mug, so I make my comfort coffee—brown sugar cinnamon mocha with a dollop of cold foam and a handful of chocolate sprinkles on top for smiles.
Sprinkles always make people smile, and when I slide the mug in front of him, that’s exactly what he does.
“Cute.”
“Thanks. I really like this outfit.” My hands brush over my denim overalls as I wink at him, making him chuckle this time.
“I meant the coffee, but you look cute too, as usual.”
“I know. I’m just messing with you.” It worked—it earned me a smile.
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t grab his drink either. He stares, his gaze burning right through me. I feel his sadness in my core, and it’s almost too hard to handle. Almost.
Grief has the illusion of being more manageable when it’s carried, and I’ve found the same with most hardships. Sometimes, all we need is to know we’re not alone and that we’re seen, even if there’s nothing we can do about it. “I’m here if you need anything.”
“I need a minute. Thanks for the coffee.” He holds the mug close to his lips and takes a sip, closing his eyes, letting his long, thick lashes brush his cheeks. Of course, he has perfect lashes; isn’t that every man’s life? We women pay good money to have beautiful, full lashes like this man.
“Hi, baby,” I whisper, picking Vero up after leaving Holden behind in solitude with his coffee.
“Who is that, Natalie Catalina?” Cara wiggles her eyebrows.
“That’s the guy from the other day,” Allie whispers.
“Not my name, Cara. And he’s a client named Holden.”
“Interesting. Do you rush to meet all your clients at the door?”
Watch it, I mouth, taking a seat next to them and letting Vero get comfortable in my lap.
She hands me a book, opening it so there’s no question about what she wants me to do.
“He’s a repeat one. I see him often, and we talk, that’s all.
He looks kinda sad—” I look his way to make sure he can’t hear me, but he’s lost in the coffee between his hands “—I wanted to make sure he was okay.”
“What’s his deal?”
“Today or in general?”
They both shrug.
“He’s easy to talk to, and I think we’re friends now?” I shake my head. “I don’t know. Maybe? We went for ice cream last night when you had the girls, Allie.”
Their eyes are impossibly wide.
“Just ice cream, and we talked. He has lost some people too.”
Allie squeezes my hand, her honey eyes softening. “Is it easier? To talk about Nick with someone who understands?”
I consider her question. Allie has always been the empathetic but logical one in our group.
It’s easy for her to keep her objectivity and see things beyond what’s in front of her.
Except that one time years ago when she completely missed the fact that Jake, her now husband, would’ve done anything for her.
I struggle answering her question, because they have lost Nick too, so why is it different with Holden?
“No, not really. There’s a shared space for us who have lost fundamental people.” I kiss Vero’s head. “It’s like I know he understands without having to explain. I don’t know if that even makes sense.”
“It does. I’m sorry we don’t,” Cara mentions, wiping a tear from her cheek. Pregnancy hormones have her really emotional, and she cries often, something I’ve never seen from this girl before.
“Oh, please, I’m not. I’m so thankful none of you have lost a partner or a parent. I wish we would never have to live in a timeline where someone we love is not here anymore, but I am really thankful, as crappy as this is, that I have you.”
I squeeze Cara’s hand, holding Allie’s gaze and smiling at both. “Nick would’ve liked to know I get to share this stage of my life with you. Besides, you both lost him too, so we’re in this shared space together.”
They take this moment in as Nico nurses at Allie’s breast, and Cara’s hands rest on her belly.
Allie points at Holden with her chin. “Who did he lose? His wife?”
I shake my head. “His mom and his sister.” And now that I’m saying it out loud, I realize I don’t even know anything about them. I don’t know how old they were, what they were like, or Holden’s relationship with them.
When someone hears you’ve lost someone, most people want to know how you lost them, but the moment of death is so quick, a snap of a finger, a second balancing on a divider where on one side, there’s life, and on the other side, death.
It’s the life before, and after that defines a person, so I don’t ever ask how it happened.
I want to know who they were before, what legacy they carry now that we don’t have them.
“That’s sad. I can’t imagine,” Cara mentions.
“It is.”
Vero is comfortably resting on my lap, her back to my chest, but the way she’s kicking her little feet lets me know she wants me to stop talking and just read her the book. She waits patiently most of the time; it must be part of one of her therapies, I’m sure.
I read her the book about a little girl being enough.
It’s one of my favorites, and she loves it too.
No matter how many times she asks me to read her this book, or any book for that matter, I’ll say yes.
I soak it all in. I repeat the same words over and over again, commit it to memory—to the little pocket in my brain where I keep the please don’t forget moments.
I close the book and slide it onto the shelf. “Okay, Mama has to go to work, okay?”
Vero scoots out of my arms into Cara’s, who’s waiting with blocks to build with her.
The children’s area is nestled into the farthest corner of the shop.
Not because I don’t want kids to be seen, but because I want them to feel safe.
I wanted it to be as far away from the door as possible so moms, dads, and caregivers can enjoy some peace knowing their child can’t bolt out the door.
They’re in their safe space, so I go and try to see if I can bring some light into Holden’s eyes again.
“Remember when you told me yesterday you fake being okay?” Holden asks without lifting his eyes from the mug, knowing I’m right here.
“Um-hum.”
“You can’t fake that.” He stares at the area where my friends laugh, one with a toddler napping on her chest, the other one playing with my kid. “The way you smile, the way your body moves around them, is the same way you treat every customer who comes here—that’s real, Natalie.”
“Thanks.” I don’t have anything else to say. That single observation tugs at my heart more than I thought possible. “You’ll get there again. I promise.”
I slide the mug forward, and I can see how empty it is. “If you keep making me coffee like this, I’m sure I’ll be happy all the time. What’s your secret? You said you had a special ingredient. I want to know what it is so I can buy it in bulk.”
“I could tell you…but then—”
“You’d have had to kill me, huh?”
“Exactly.”
I smile at him, and this time, he returns it. “Are you feeling better?
“I needed fresh air, I think. The view and the drink help too.” He’s the one winking this time, and here comes the heat creeping up my face again.
“I take it it didn’t go great today?”
He shakes his head with a chuckle. “That would be an understatement, but it will be fine. He just—” he sighs “—he told me something unexpected, and I’m having a lot of conflicting feelings.”
“Fair. Did you get enough answers to form an opinion?”
“No, and I left, so I have to wait until next week to know more.”
“I mean, you can always go sooner.”
“I can’t. I have plans tonight.”
Oh. Disappointment hits me like a thousand bricks. Of course, he has plans. It’s Friday. He’s handsome, funny, kind, and single. Maybe he’s not really single. Why am I even worrying about this?
“Well, that gives you a few days to think about it, I guess.”
He gets up, grabs a couple of bottles of wine, and walks up to the register. “See you soon?” he asks as soon as he pays.
“Sure. You know where to find me.”
Holden leaves with his bag of wine and his receipt. “Goodbye, Natalie.”
What the hell are these feelings and butterflies in my stomach?. What is this knot I got when he said he had plans tonight, and why do I hate all of it?