I have become so desperate in my grief that I can’t be reasoned with. The pain continues to slice at my chest like a deadly knife, digging deep and making wounds that I am convinced can never be healed. The sheer intensity of it only worsens as the days go by. There is no end in sight. No reprieve or fast breath of relief.
There is only sadness and tears.
In the middle of this agony, I begin to think of Grady less and less. My life moves on. The kids keep me busy. School days fill my time and practices hoard my nights. I am becoming more self-sufficient every day and for the things I cannot do myself, I now have a sturdy support system that swoops in before I ever need to ask.
At night I lie in bed and force myself to think as much about Grady as I can. I constantly worry about losing all of my memories of him, of not being able to remember things just as they were. I do whatever I can to shove thoughts of everyone else out of my head and think only of Grady.
Because he is not the only person I want to think about. And I hate myself for that. I hate that my thoughts won’t stay loyal to my husband.
I will do anything to ease this guilt and misery, to tape my broken heart back together. I will do anything to think of Grady as my husband. Even still. Even beyond his death.
And to think of Ben as only a friend.
Chapter Fourteen
“You guys shouldn’t have let me sleep in! I could have gotten up!” I wandered into the kitchen, following my nose and the smell of freshly brewed coffee.
My parents had arrived from Florida the day before. They were from this area and had raised Emma and me here, but took their retirement some place warm.
After the four inches of snowstorm we got last night, I didn’t blame them. They were lucky it didn’t start until after we got home from the airport. It had been a very mild fall. New England had one of the prettiest winters in the country and I was excited to finally have snow on the ground.
This was our first real snow of the season and it was just in time for Christmas. The kids had been off since last Friday and I appreciated the snow for them and for my parents.
Christmas would be hard enough this year; it helped that it would at least be pretty.
“No, grandparents are supposed to wake up early, Lizbeth. That’s why we came.” My dad sat hunched over the kids’ table with his knees pressed to his chest and a princess crown on his head.
My dad, Matthew Ferris, looked like the banker he used to be even in his late sixties, except for the tiara perched atop his head. His strong nose and angular jaw gave him the visage of a man in charge. Until his grandchildren surrounded him. Then he turned into a big puddle of grandpa and spoiled them rotten.
My mother, Julia, stood next to my Kuerig, already brewing me a cup. She looked sleepy still, hugging a cup of her own coffee and dressed in her fuzzy pink pajama pants.
“I thought we would wake you up.” She passed the hot coffee to me and I inhaled deeply. “We were so loud down here. Did you take a sleeping pill?”
“No,” I told her. “I haven’t taken one in a long time. I’ve started to sleep better lately.”
“Oh,” her soft voice pulled on my heart. My mother was the sweetest woman I knew and she had been incredible during this time. Both of my parents were great actually. They loved each other deeply. One of the hardest things for them about Grady’s death was that I wouldn’t get to grow old with him. They felt they had something unique and beautifully special. They had wanted the same thing for me.
I looked out the windows to the snow-covered backyard. “I should go shovel the drive before we need to go anywhere.”
“You didn’t hire it done?” my dad asked while he pulled Jace onto his long legs.
“No, but that’s a good idea.” I wondered if Dillan, the kid I hired to mow over the summer, was back for Christmas break. I could give him a call…
“Then who’s out there shoveling it? I thought you paid a man or I would have done it myself.”
“What do you mean?”
“Liz, there’s a man out there shoveling your walk right now.”
My stomach flipped as I hurried to the front door. My family room had a nice view of the front yard and part of Ben’s yard, but I had to go to my front door to see the driveway. I held my coffee carefully in my hands so not to spill it, but I had to confirm my suspicions.
I opened the door and stepped out onto the shoveled porch in just my slippers. The cold, icy air bit at my skin and blew up my thin pajamas. I shivered in the morning air as I took in the sight of Ben working his way up and down my long drive.
“Hey!” I called out to him. His head lifted to face me, and even though he wore a stocking cap and a scarf that covered half of his face, I could see his eyes brighten with a smile. “I hope you’re not expecting a tip!”
His shoulders shook as he laughed at my joke. He stuck the shovel into a snowbank and walked over to me, tugging his scarf down as he went.
“No tip? I quit.”
“You can’t quit!” I squeaked. “You’re only halfway finished.”
He grinned at me. “And it doesn’t look like you’ll get out here anytime soon, lazy bones. Did the kids let you sleep in this morning?”
I handed him my coffee without thinking. He took it and held it in front of his face for a minute before taking a healthy drink.
“My parents flew in yesterday,” I reminded him. “They let me have some peace. Well, after Jace, Abby and Lucy all woke up and got out of my bed.”
“Oh, that’s right. They’re the ones responsible for ruining wine night.”
I shook my head at him. “I’m sure you survived.”
“Well, I drank the wine, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“All of it?”
He laughed into my coffee, “I’m teasing. I saved it for you.”
“Of course you did! I’m so much more fun than drinking by yourself.”
“Yeah, our two glasses of wine once a week, really blow my mind.”
“You’re so full of yourself today. It must be the snow. It’s gone straight to your head.”