Inside, he pressed his face to the steering wheel as grief overwhelmed him. I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t want to be there tonight. With her. I want to be with you. I always do. I don’t care that you want this. I’d rather be alone. Don’t make me get back out there. I can’t do it.
He dashed at the tears that coated the steering wheel and had to dig under the passenger seat for the tissue box he kept in the car for Danny. After blowing his nose, he leaned his head back against the seat and waited until he was settled enough to go home.
When he opened the door at a mere nine o’clock, he heard the pounding of little feet on the stairs. Busted. His sister hadn’t enforced the little guy’s bedtime. It made him smile.
Natalie appeared in the hall moments later. “How did it go?”
Could one respond awful? “Not the greatest show on earth. How was the munchkin?”
He cocked his ear, waiting to see if his son would be upset enough by the nickname that he’d forget he was supposed to be in bed.
“Wonderful, like always.”
“How about a glass of wine?” he asked.
“Sure.”
They detoured to the kitchen, and he poured them some red from the bottle he’d opened last night. There was something he wanted to ask her, and since it had to be on her mind anyway, he decided to straight out ask.
“So…you’ve mentioned you and Blake are doing really well,” he said, pressing his wine glass to his chest. “Are you planning on bringing him around to any family gatherings in the near future?”
She contemplated her wine like she was looking for bits of cork. “We are doing well, but I’m not sure…it’s time to bring him back into the fold. Things still need to be…more structured between us.”
He read between the lines. What she meant was she had to be sure they were going to get married again, and she wasn’t yet. “Okay. I just wanted you to know I’m there for you. For both of you if and when the time comes.” He rather hoped it would.
“So tell me more about your date,” she said, tracing the stem of her glass.
She stayed a little longer as he ran through the basics. They weren’t compatible. He wasn’t that into her. All the excuses.
The real truth he left unsaid. That they both knew acting on a decision was sometimes harder than making one. He’d told himself he could get back out there. Start dating again. After acting on it, he knew he was a liar. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t sure he ever would be.
When Natalie left, he journeyed upstairs to his son’s bedroom. Danny had chosen seaside blue for his room, and they’d decorated it with a sea theme to match. A lighthouse lamp cast soft muted light on his son’s face. There were octopuses, dolphins, and sea horses painted on his walls courtesy of an artist his Aunt Caroline knew from Denver. He sank onto his knees beside his son’s bunk bed and looked at him. Simply looked at him.
The shape of his eyes was like Kim’s. The curve of his nose like Andy’s. Looking at him was like looking at the best blending of two people on the planet. Looking at him reminded Andy of the woman he loved, the one he’d married, thinking they’d share a long and happy life.
But they hadn’t.
They’d lived a short and happy life. He was mostly grateful for that. Just not for the way it had ended. Kissing his son, he detoured to his office, unable to seek an empty bed.
His computer purred out of sleep when he jimmied the mouse over the mouse pad. He was checking Facebook when a message box appeared. It was Lucy, and boy, how his heart lightened. Even thousands of miles away, she was a comfort.
Hey! Missed you, he wrote. How are you doing?
He never asked if she was safe. It was like a commandment, not to be broken.
Ah…feeling a little sad tonight. There’s…a lot to be sad about here.
He couldn’t even imagine. And Lucy wasn’t easily daunted—for her, being sad was akin to being devastated.
I had my first date tonight. I’m a little sad too.
He watched the cursor blink on and off as she was typing.
Understandable. Kim would be proud of you, but who cares, right? She doesn’t have to do the tough stuff of living, and sometimes living is hard.
Dammit, if tears didn’t pop into his eyes as he read that. She was right. Part of him wanted to yell at Kim, to tell her he didn’t care that she wanted him to find someone else. That he didn’t want to and that was that. Lucy, who worked with the impoverished, with survivors of war, knew better than most how hard living could be.
Thanks for not trying to sugarcoat it.
I’ll never do that, Andy Cakes.
A reluctant smile touched his mouth.
You’re the best, Luce. Now how can I cheer you up? How about I tell you about a practical joke a kid played on my mom?
He wrote out the story, loving the LOLs and smiley faces she interspersed into their chat. By the time he finished, he knew she was probably laughing in gales halfway around the world.