“I was stressed out second year and I wasn’t a twenty-four-year-old single dad.” He squeezed her upper arm. “Why don’t we bring Gracie over here? Zach can come over whenever he gets done. We can play a game. We still have that Candy Land around somewhere, don’t we?”
Jude saw their reflections in the window: watery, pencil-drawing-like shapes. At the words Candy Land, time fell away; she was a young mother again, hunkered down on the floor with her twins, reaching for a card, laughing …
She slipped out of Miles’s arms and went into the bathroom. She was out of her nightgown and into the shower before he could get to her.
“I forgot,” he said, standing in the doorway, giving her that disappointed look again. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s just a game.” Her voice barely cracked, but she knew it betrayed her.
There was a pause before he said, “I’ll go for a run and meet you at Zach’s.”
“You run too much,” she said.
He shrugged. It was his way of dealing with the loss. He ran; he worked.
“See you later,” she said finally. She stayed in the shower until she heard him leave, and then she got out and began drying her hair. By the time she’d dressed in a pair of pale beige capris and a soft cotton T-shirt, she was in control of her emotions again.
Grief was like that these days: a stealth bomber. She could be going along just fine, moving forward, and then something would blow up unexpectedly. Years ago, when it had all been fresh, she could spend days off the path, in a gray world where nothing was stable. Now, she could right herself most of the time.
That was progress.
She started to leave the bathroom and remembered halfway to the door that she hadn’t brushed her teeth or put on makeup.
She went back and brushed her teeth but decided to forgo the makeup. She’d only have to remove it tonight, and nothing left her more wrung out than a day with Grace and Zach. It took so much effort to be present in their lives without really being present that she came home exhausted.
She went to her car, a black hybrid SUV, smaller than the old Escalade, and started the engine. Backing out of the garage, she executed a tight three-point turn and drove up the gravel driveway, noticing the wildness of their land. Everything had grown in the past few years; blackberry bushes climbed like bullies over everything.
She turned onto the main road and drove to Zach’s house.
As always, walking into this cabin was a little like going back in time for Jude. The blue sofa was the one she and Miles had gotten for their first apartment; the chairs were from the year they’d had the twins. They’d stored all of their old furniture and outdated trinkets for their kids. They used to say jokingly, with two moving out, we’ll need to save it all.
Zach was raising his daughter and going to med school in a house that mirrored the one in which she and Miles had done all the same things.
“Anyone here?” she called out.
Zach came around the corner from the kitchen, holding a cup of coffee and carrying Grace, who clung sleepily to him.
“Don’t say it,” Zach said, rubbing Grace’s back. “I know I look like shit. I was up until four. Can you guys still watch Gracie today? I have study group.”
“Of course.”
“Thanks. I can be home by seven.”
Jude nodded and went into the kitchen, where she started cooking breakfast. Because she kept Zach’s house stocked with food, she knew she’d find everything she needed for waffles, scrambled eggs, and a fruit plate.
When Miles got there, hair still wet from his shower and smiling in the way that only he among them still could, Jude felt a weight slide off her shoulders. Miles was the glue that held their lives together. Around him, Jude and Zach breathed easier.
“There’s my girl,” Miles said, opening his arms wide.
Zach put Grace down and she ran for her grandfather, hurled her little pink polka-dot flanneled body at him.
Miles scooped her up and whispered something in her ear, and she giggled.
Jude felt a spasm in her chest. There were times, like this, when all that she’d lost hit her so hard she had trouble standing.