I toss Jackson into the air and he squeals in delight, his baby blue eyes sparkling, his huge grin showing off all eight of his little baby teeth. He’s getting bigger and it makes me sad that it’s taken me so long to be the happy, doting, spoiling aunt that my sweet nephew deserves. I try not to beat myself up over it, though. I’ve done enough damage to myself.
“Oh honey, Aunt Sadie loves you so much. You know that, right?” I ask, my lips pressed to his pudgy little cheek.
He giggles and babbles something or another. I’m still trying to earn my degree in “babble.” He has grown a little since the last time I saw him and it makes me profoundly aware that he’s moving right into the toddler stage even though I missed so much of the infant stage.
“Taydee—tuppee,” he babbles and I look to Jenna for a lifeline here.
“What?” I whisper to her.
“He said Sadie cuppy. He wants his juice,” she explains, pointing to his toddler cup on the counter.
I mouth “oh” and waste no time getting the juice for him. He squirms on my hip, ready to be free, and I set him down to rediscover the dining room that he has seen a thousand times. He toddles away in his unbalanced fashion and I smile, watching.
“I guess I have to get going,” I say with a sigh. “Said I’d be in session today. But give me a call when you ask Taylor about date night. I’ll keep him as long as I’m free.”
“I will. Maybe I’ll get laid.” She winks and I feign disgust.
“Oh…oh, God… I think I just threw up in my mouth a little. That’s gross, Jen. I don’t need to picture my brother-in-law dishing out tube steak to my sister. Gross,” I joke as I toss my purse over my shoulder and begin digging for my keys.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She waves her hand dismissively.
I wrap my arms around her and give her a peck on the cheek. “See ya later, babe.”
“See ya.”
I check my cell phone as I turn the ignition.
Nothing.
No text. No missed calls. God, I miss him. I know that I told him to leave me alone. I made myself clear and I hadn’t given him any guarantees. I asked him to go away and have hope. I asked him to have faith that I’d make it back to him. I asked him to have faith that I could let go of Jake so that I could give myself to him fully. I asked a man who thinks himself unworthy of so much to take a backseat to my deceased husband. Looking back on it now, I asked him for so much. Too much. Maybe I should have tried to take this journey with him at my side. I know I wouldn’t have done it, though. Not fully. Not in the way that I needed to. I needed to be here in Atlanta. I needed to be with my family and let them know that I am sorry and I’m taking the right steps to be the Sadie they used to know. I needed to go to the group therapy sessions and actually listen instead of ridiculing everyone else there. I needed to say thank you. I needed to give hugs not just receive them. I needed to face all of Jake’s belongings. I needed to show not just my family, but myself, that I’m a lot stronger than I give myself credit for. I needed to do more showing than saying and that’s what this is all about. I want so badly to open the next chapter of my life with Zander, but I can’t move on to the next chapter until I finish up this one.
***
“Hey, Joel,” I say to the therapist that I once cussed out. I still cringe when I think about it.
“Hey, Sadie. Ready?”
“Yep.” I nod as I take my seat directly across from him in the circle of thirteen chairs that will seat twelve plus Joel.
People start filing in. Most of them are familiar, except there’s someone new this week. My heart aches when I see the familiar haunted eyes and stricken expression of loss. She’s got sandy blonde hair and must be my age, but she could pass for a year or two older, in her state. She shuffles reluctantly to a seat. I fight against my urge to motion her to the seat beside me; I know better than anyone that she isn’t open to listening to anyone. The white nametag sticker on her shirt says “Caroline” in barely legible writing.
“Okay, everyone get settled, we’re ready to begin,” Joel announces, looking at his wristwatch.
I allow myself to watch her carefully from where I’m sitting. She has her arms crossed over her chest and slouches back in the folding chair. It’s the universal posture of someone who’s closed off to the world around them.
“Everyone, today we have a new friend with us. Everyone say hi to Caroline.”
Everyone gives their hello, hey, or hi, lacking enthusiasm. Caroline tilts her head, giving a little nod with her chin.