On Second Thought(121)

*

That night, Candy came over, and she and Kate and I made dinner and then Skyped with Sean and Kiara and the kids, which was ridiculous because he lived forty-five minutes away and could, one imagined, get in his damn car once in a while and visit his family.

Still, it was worth it to see Sadie blowing us kisses and showing us her stuffed animals, and to get a glimpse of Esther and Matthias, who graced us with hellos.

Then there was a knock on the door. “I’ll get it,” I said, though I was already in my Yertle the Turtle pajamas.

It was Jonathan.

“Oh, Jonathan! Hello!” Candy said.

“Hello, Dr. O’Leary,” he said. “Kate.”

“Hi, Jonathan,” she said, a smile in her voice.

“What can I do for you, boss?” I asked.

He took my face in his hands and kissed me. A deep, thorough, fantastic kiss that made my heart turn into hot caramel goo.

“Well, this is surprising,” I dimly heard my mother say.

He pulled back and looked at me with those beautiful, changing eyes. “Sixty-five,” he said.

“Excuse me?” My voice was husky.

“Sixty-five percent, at least. Possibly sixty-seven.” Then he looked over my shoulder. “Good night, ladies,” he said and then left, glancing back at me with a smile.

Sixty-seven, huh?

I’d take it.





Chapter Thirty

Kate

August was a long month. Maybe there was something to what my mother had said about milestones, because I found myself looking forward to the fall, to the end of this year, the year Nathan died. To next spring, when it would be a year, when my head would be clearer and I’d know what to do. Because these days, my brain was fuzzy and the heat pressed down on me, and all I wanted to do was nap.

“Perfectly normal,” LuAnn said in grief group. “You leave the house with the wrong clothes sometimes, am I right?”

“Grief is wearying,” Lileth, the social worker, said in her singsong voice.

“Fucking exhausting if you ask me,” LuAnn said.

Leo wasn’t there this week. His presence had been sporadic lately, which we knew was a good sign. George, too, had been absent; he’d had lunch a few times with Gram-Gram, in fact. Ainsley’s doing, of course.

My sister had left her job, started work at the Blessed Bean and was taking two classes at the community college. She wanted to be a nurse, she thought, and in my opinion, she’d be perfect—so energetic and sweet, so eager to take care of people.

I heard all about Eric, and I loved her so much for her ferocity. A year ago, I never thought I’d say it, but I admired my little sister more than just about anyone else. She had the biggest heart of anyone I knew. She had convictions, and she put her money where her mouth was.

And it was awfully nice to see her and Jonathan together. He watched her closely; I wasn’t sure if she noticed, but he barely took his eyes off her. She blushed a lot around him. I liked that, too.

The Coburns’ anniversary benefit was a few weeks away, and I had to get the porch swing from Daniel. If he’d finished it. If not, I still had the plans for their house expansion finished; Phoebe had done the job for me (and cried when she came here to drop the plans off).

That party would be an incredibly difficult event.

I missed Daniel. Our little friendship hadn’t felt little at all.

Last week, I turned forty and asked Ainsley and my parents not to do anything for it. Ainsley had left a little gift—an antique heart locket—and a Carvel ice cream cake in the freezer and said nothing.

Sean had needed no prompting to forget my birthday; he never remembered. I got a card from Kiara signed with all five of their names and the message Happier times ahead, my darling sister-in-law. She was awfully wonderful. Sean didn’t deserve her.

I slept and I ate and I waited, though for what, I wasn’t really sure. The Nikon stayed on the shelf. Every day that passed made it harder to bear the thought of looking at the last pictures ever taken of Nathan, my gentle, sweet husband of ninety-six days.

I didn’t see Madeleine again. I hoped that would remain true for the rest of my life. Honestly, I felt sorry for her. She really had loved Nathan, and she’d lost him, just like I had. The fact that she’d been a royal bitch, well...people told themselves what they needed to. If Nathan had kept a secret from me, what could I do about it? I was just too tired to carry it anymore.

“I forgive you, Nathan,” I said to the empty air one night when Ainsley was at Jonathan’s. “If you loved Madeleine, it’s okay.”

I listened for an answer. Nothing, as usual.

With a sigh, I got up to make myself a milk shake, because I was a widowed adult and who cared if I gained thirty pounds, and also the I can’t eat phase of grief had passed. So yeah, a milk shake would be just the ticket.

The windows and doors were all open, and the crickets made a deafening chorus along with the katydids, always the sound of summer’s end.

A year ago today, Nathan and I had been on four dates.

I scooped out the ice cream into the milk shake maker—Nathan had been in love with kitchen gadgetry, so of course we had one. Added milk and some vanilla, and pushed Start. I waited till it was done, then took the cold metal glass and sipped the drink. Perfect. Nice and cold.

And then I smelled his cologne, smelled him, and my whole body tingled in a warm, strange wave. I froze, then inhaled again slowly.