Chapter 4
~TWO YEARS LATER~
I grab my cell as I leave the playground, my sweet baby asleep on my shoulder. He wore himself out.
“Hey, Lanie. What’s up?”
Her voice is careful, with a forced carefree, I’m-not-checking-up-on-you tone. “Hey Gen! I’m just calling to see if we’re still on for a little Genny/Lanie time.” She blurts out a curse and I hear a horn blare.
“Yep and you shouldn’t be talking while you’re driving. You’re going to get another ticket.” I chide her a little as I get to my car and open the door, carefully placing the baby into his seat. He stirs a little bit but doesn’t wake. After I strap him in, I kiss his forehead lightly and shut the door.
“Okay, but in my defense, I was parked when the call started.” Lanie sounds hesitant, which is strange for her. She’s one of my best friends.
“That won’t save you from a ticket. And, I know why you’re calling—I’m fine.” It’s a big fat lie and everyone knows it, but she humors me with silence. Trying to convince her, I add, “I promise. I’m doing play dates, my kitchen is fully stocked, and I appreciate you calling, but I’m okay this year.”
“Okay, just checking on you. You are doing better.” Her words of encouragement are sincere. If she had said them a year ago, I would have laughed. On this date last year, I was a train wreck.
“Thanks, Lanie. I’ll catch up with you later.”
The sky is blue today. Billowy white clouds float by as if it is just another day, but it’s not. Two years... It's been two years today since I found out Cade was gone. If one more person tells me he's in a better place I might just scream. I want him here with me, with our baby. I wanted to see his face when he held our son for the first time, but that life is gone.
I try to accept it, but today is harder than other days. Last year I cried all day. This year, I want to simply be grateful I had him in my life for so long. Some couples only have months. We had years.
I want to learn to be grateful, but resentment still lingers. I lost him too soon. At times like this, a friend stops by and I fall for it. I let them in, we chat for a bit and they’ll show me a new manicure with some weird design on the tips or the Ombre in their hair. They talk about the things that were a part of my life before CJ, my sweet baby.
Now, I barely have time to breathe. I haven’t been to a salon since before he was born, and nails—ha! Mine are cut short and nude. That’s right. I’ve got naked nails.
When I get to the house, Lanie’s already there. I should have known. After laying CJ down, I start picking up.
"Genny, sit. You’re always running.” I oblige and plop down on the couch next to her. God, my feet hurt. I sigh and slouch back, closing my eyes for half a second, when I hear CJ whimper over the baby monitor. Ugh. That was a short nap. I think he has some kind of radar that sends off alerts to his baby brain whenever I sit down. I moan and put my arm over my face. I didn’t have time to pick up much and the sink is still full of dirty dishes. Some might be growing a new breed of penicillin. My mother would be horrified.
“I’ll get him, sweetie. You sit.” Lanie grins and bounds up the stairs like a poodle on crack, taking them two at a time. I think she lives on Pixie Stix and Coca-Cola. I would try that diet, but my yoga pants don’t stretch that far.
I can hear her voice on the baby monitor. “Hello, little CJ, pookie poo. Who loves his Aunt Lanie? You do! That’s right, you perfect little man.” She makes cooing noises and kissie sounds.
I can hear her through the static and she knows it. “Speaking of great men, I met the nicest guy for Mommy the other day." She’s still talking in baby talk, so it sounds like she’s hitting on my soon-to-be toddler.
Lanie goes on, chattering to CJ. "Really, CJ, you gotta tell Mama that this guy would be perfect for her! He’s nice and tall and hot. Can you say hot? Hot. Hot!”
CJ mimics her but it comes out wrong. “Bah.”
“Yes, I think so, too,” she answers him. Their voices fade, her footfalls getting louder until she descends the staircase. CJ sees me and squirms, crying for me. I hold out my arms and she hands him over. I tuck the baby under my chin and kiss his chubby cheek.
“Why don't you come out with us tomorrow night? We can get dressed up," she wrinkles her nose as she glances over at my wrinkled, baby-barf covered t-shirt and black yoga pants, "and you can meet him!"
I immediately start shaking my head, and her face falls. "Lanie, I can't.”
She blinks rapidly and presses her hand to her chest. “Oh, my god! How embarrassing. I was asking CJ, not you.” She laughs and I swat her with the burp cloth that was laying on the arm of the couch.
“Lanie, I'm just not ready yet." And I'm not. I still love my husband, and there's no escape from that. His rings are still on my finger. He might be gone, but in my mind I’m still married. Besides, I'm reminded of him every time I look at my little boy's face. He looks just like his father, right down to his blonde hair and brown eyes. I don't think he inherited anything from me at all and I'm glad. Losing Cade hasn't gotten easier, but having little Cade Junior—my precious baby, CJ—the only piece of his daddy that remains, makes things a little better.
Lanie squirms in her seat and tips her head at me. It’s the sympathetic head tilt. It’s usually a cue for me to run the other way, because whatever’s coming out of her mouth next is going to suck monkeys. She clasps her hands under her chin and then lets the words fly, pleading. "Aw, honey, it's been two years! He wouldn't want you to be alone forever! Don't you want a father for CJ?"
Her eyes are begging me to give this guy a chance, but I won't, and the fact that she keeps pushing guy after guy at me makes me upset. She doesn’t get it—I want to be alone, take care of my son, and raise him so he knows his father. Besides, I'm not looking to replace my Cade, I don't know how I'd ever love someone as much as I loved him. And, in the off chance that I could, I’d never be able to endure loss like this again. It nearly destroyed me. There were nights that were so long and horrific that I didn’t think I’d see the next morning. If CJ wasn’t here, I don’t know what would have become of me.
“Lanie, I don't know why you keep trying to force me into this! It never works out well. The last guy you introduced me to,” I use air quotes for the introduced part, “said, and I quote, ‘I'm not looking for a relationship, I just want to have a good time. You up for that?’ Gah, could you pick a bigger loser?” The baby stays nestled in the crook of my neck, his little fingers playing with the frizz of my hair.
Lanie makes a face. “Everyone needs to get laid once in a while.”
Death stare. I do it without thinking and glare at her forehead, wishing I could give her more brains, or a nicer brain, a brain that stops meddling and accepts me the way I am—a broken mess. “Ixnay on getting laid in front of the baby!”
It's gotten to the point where I do everything possible not to go out with our friends. Going out had been fun before Cade died, but it's turned into a get Genny to move on exercise. Cade is a hard act to follow. He loved me. It’s hard to describe, but I feel like we’re still together, that he’s still mine and I’m still his—even though he’s gone. No other guy holds a candle to Cade, and no guy ever will. Their meddling makes me want to scream at times, even though I know they mean well. The thing is, I don’t need a man and CJ doesn’t need another daddy. He already has one. But they all get in on it, everyone picking a different guy for me to try out, pushing me into the arms of someone new.
“He doesn’t know what I’m saying. Besides, it’s not like it’ll give him some sort of Oedipus complex to know his mom doesn’t want to be alone for the rest of her life. Mommy needs to get some, Little Man.” She smiles at CJ, like this is an acceptable conversation to have in front of my baby.
I yank him away and her smile turns to a frown. “God, Lanie, it feels like you want me to turn into the town whore and sew a red A on my chest.”
“Yes, I do, but only if A is for ‘available.’”
"CJ already has a father, Lanie, and today isn’t a good day to push me." Glaring at her, I say firmly, "I think it's time for you to go."
I'm so over all the pushing and the pressure. I know they mean well, really, I do, but I'm just so tired of pretending. I'm tired of pretending to be happy, pretending to be ready. I don't think I'll ever be ready to let him go. How do you let go of the one person who knew everything about you, the good and the bad, and loved you anyway? I've had true love once, I don't want to go through the pain of losing someone else if I’m lucky enough to find love again. CJ is all I need.
"Gen, don’t be like that! Gen, I…" Lanie's stammering gets cut off by a knock on the front door. Standing up, I ignore her apologies and scoot past her. Pulling open the door, I snap, "What?" before registering the guy standing in front of me on the porch.
"Uh, hi, Mrs. Prior," he says, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck and smiling sheepishly at me. "I just wanted to let you know that I mowed the yard, and I fixed the loose board in the back steps so you won't have to worry about falling with CJ in your arms.” He smiles warmly at the baby on my hip and waves at him. CJ giggles once and buries his face in my shoulder. Daniel looks up at me. “I'll, uh, I'll see you next week?" The last is a question, and I'm sure he thinks I'm mad at him. Ooops.
I feel like a jerk for snapping. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you! Thanks, Daniel," I attempt to sound friendly, even though I'm still fuming thanks to Lanie. "Please, call me Genevieve, okay? Mrs. Prior just makes me feel old." I smile at him, trying to make up for my earlier rudeness.
Daniel nods a goodbye and jogs down the steps to the Clement Landscaping truck sitting at the curb. With a sigh, I shut the door and turn back to face Lanie, who looks close to tears.
"Genny, I'm sorry. I just want you to be happy again." Her eyes are filled almost to over-flowing and me to forgive her.
I lean back against the door, CJ still in my arms, and stare at her. She has no idea, no one does. "Will you please let me decide when and if I'm ready to move on?" My voice isn't angry anymore, it's weary. I'm tired of having to explain this to everyone all the time. I'll move on when I'm ready, and not a minute before.
Moving away from the door and back toward the couch, I shift CJ and hold him close. At just over a year old, he's still more baby than toddler, and I love his sweet smell. It's nothing like Cade's, but still so precious to me. He reaches up to tug my messy ponytail, gripping the hair tight in his fist and babbling at me.
Lanie watches me sit on the floor to play with my little boy. When he starts to bang on one of his toys, I realize that this is how I spend the majority of my time; at home, by myself, with CJ. Every so often, a friend or my mom comes over to try to get me outside the house, but they don't come as often as they have in the past. It's good in some ways, because they all think I should at least attempt to move on, to have a relationship with someone else. And, just like Lanie, they think I should find another father for CJ.
Every time I look at this healthy little boy, I see my husband. How am I supposed to move on when I love Cade just as much now as I did the day he deployed? How do I ask another man to share my heart with someone? I’ll never stop loving Cade, and it seems unfair to start something with someone else, knowing that I can’t give it my whole heart. Yes, sometimes I am lonely. Doing everything myself is hard, harder than I thought it would be, but I can manage on my own. Things will get easier as he gets older.
And then what, Gen? I ask myself. He goes off to school and you sit alone? He won’t be here forever.
I shove the thought aside. That day is too far away to fathom. I'm lucky in some ways; Cade made sure that if something happened to him, I would be taken care of. There was enough insurance money to pay off the house and to allow me to live more than comfortably. Only my mother knows how much he left for us. I never knew he upped his policy. I’ve got more money than I could spend. Okay, I could probably spend all of it on this house. It’s in such need of attention. It’s so old and worn. Thankfully, I have Daniel to take care of any issues that come up, like the steps out back. The board warped and the edge lifted just enough to catch my toe while I was carrying in a bag of yard toys. Daniel saw me fall and immediately started working to fix the warped step.
Cade hired Daniel while he was still in high school, and he's been taking care of our lawn ever since. Since Cade's death, Daniel has been slowly taking on more responsibilities, helping with not only the yard, but also leaky faucets, broken drawers, stuck closet doors; I don't know what I would have done without his help over the past two years. Daniel quietly goes about his business, checking on things. Sometimes he seems intimidated by me, but he always smiles at CJ and talks to him.
"Are you ever going to speak to me again?" Lanie's voice is quiet, and I can tell she feels awful for pushing me, especially today out of all days.
It's hard to stay mad at her. Pinching the bridge of my nose in an attempt to ward off the headache I can feel forming behind my eyes, I shake my head. "Of course I'm going to talk to you again, but promise me something.”
I get a face full of doe eyes. “Sure.”
“Promise to stop butting in. When I'm ready to date, you'll be the first person to know."
"But, what if I find a great guy who would be perfect for you?”
“What if the moon falls on my head?”
“What if he doesn’t mind and likes girls with big, flat heads?” I snort, trying not to laugh. She rolls her shoulders forward like a sulky teenager and groans. “I'm going to have to introduce you. There's just no other option! I mean, what are the odds that a guy would like a girl with a flat head like that? It’s one in a billion. I’d hate for you to miss out on your second chance just because you didn't think you were ready." Her eyes are pleading with me, even as she smiles winningly. “And you know, if the moon does fall on your head we’ll have to cover it with a hat or something. Does Macy’s make hats that big? And you’d glow a bit, I suppose. People would notice your noggin was abnormally large, but some guys like that kind of thing, Gen. They’ve got some weird kinks going on.”
I roll my eyes, knowing there's no way I'm going to stop her from trying to help, no matter how much I don't want her to. "Fine, whatever. But, no guilt tripping me into going on a blind date with anyone. No tricking me, either!" She grins, knowing she's winning and I point a finger at her. "I mean it, Lanie. No telling me we're going out for drinks when we're actually going on a double date. I know how you are."
"Promise!" she squeals, running over to hug me and squeezing me tight. "Oh, we are going to find you the best guy ever! I can't wait!"
"Ugh... Lanie," I groan when she lets me go, but I can't stop the smile that spreads across my face in reaction to the huge one on hers. She's bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, her blonde hair flying everywhere, and clapping her hands. "You're such a dork," I tell her with a laugh.
She stops bouncing to put her hands on her hips. "That may be true, Genny, but I'm your dork." We both burst into giggles and I'm glad I have such good friends. Even if they do keep trying to find me a man when I'm not interested. I'll just have to make sure I don't fall for any tricks around her. She's a weasel when she wants to be.
Lanie spends the rest of the afternoon at my house, convincing me to join her, Maggie, and Erin, at a new club they found. As much as I think they are full of it, and against my better judgment, I agree to go along the following evening.
I spend the rest of this day snuggling with CJ. I mean to put him down to sleep in his room, but we end up snuggling in my bed, instead. I watch him sleep and pray to a God that ignores me, hoping Cade can hear my words.
*****
Lanie paws through my closet, pulling out dresses. “This!” She squeals excitedly.
“Yeah, no.” My best friend pouts when I refuse to let her pick what I'm wearing, and she pouts even harder when she sees I plan to wear jeans, a t-shirt and sneakers for this night out.
"Genny! What are you doing? Please tell me you’re not wearing mom clothes to a club! Are you?" Lanie looks horrified. She’s fully dressed in her ‘do me now’ gear—a short, tight black dress and what she lovingly refers to as hooker heels. Her shoes are at least six-inches-high and I would break my neck if I even attempted to walk around in them. I'm much safer in sneakers. I've never really been a girly-girl, and I see no reason to start now.
After a fifteen-minute argument about what I'm wearing, I throw Lanie out of my room, refusing to let her comb through my closet again. She pulled out every single dress I own and the only pair of heels I own, insisting I wear anything except of jeans and sneakers. She exercised all her influence in convincing me to go out drinking, though. I'm not changing. She can forget it.
By the time we are all finally ready to leave, I'm the least dressed up person in our little foursome. I'm okay with that. While Erin and Lanie are out trolling for men, I have all the man I need at home. Mom and Daddy are babysitting for the evening and Maggie's hubby is driving us. It's her girl’s night out for the month and she's planning on drinking – a lot.
Lanie leans in to whisper-shout in my ear, "He's only volunteering to drive because he's hoping he'll get lucky when they get home tonight."
Maggie yells at her, “Shut up! That’s not true!” But I can see the grin on Luke's face in the mirror. He's totally hoping he's going to get lucky tonight.