Page 78 of Baby Maker

I awake with a start,my eyes adjusting to the afternoon sun. I must have passed out, leaning against the hutch, my hand still clutching Nigel’s photos. At the corner of the minefield is Domino, lifting one paw and then the other in a nervous prance.

“Sorry, Domino. Your bladder must be bursting.” I pull myself to my feet, noting some dried blood on my knee.

Note to self. Don’t crawl over broken glass.

After letting Domino free in the backyard, I return to the office.

What a mess. Nigel would be mortified. Not surprised but mortified. He was such a stickler for organization, and I just upended his entire life onto the floor. Talk about a new type of tribute.

“Sorry, love, it got the best of me. But, I’m better now.”

For the first time, I actually mean those words.

The room is back to rights within the hour, save for a few shattered frames and one terribly sad looking snow globe, now cracked and leaking its glitter-infused juice all over the floor. I toss it into the garbage with a chuckle.

Nigel hated the damn thing, but it was a gift from Simon. A gag gift, but one my husband swore he would display proudly—likely as a reminder to never buy my best friend a nice gift again.

Nigel was right. I do have a lot to live for, and although I’ll miss him until the day I die, I’m ready to face the world. Alone, but not lonely.

---