Page 120 of Keeping the Score

“No, no. You haven’t.” She sniffs, and I brush tears from my eyes. “Can you tell me more about yourself?”

I blink. And swallow. Rub my wet face. “Um. Sure. What do you want to know?”

“Just… who you are.”

“Well. I love coffee. And cocktails.” Ack. “Like, not for breakfast or anything.”

Willa laughs softly.

I don’t know what to say. “I have a tattoo on my back that saysRise above the storm and you will find the sunshine.I try to remember that when things are tough. My mom always told me nobody ever damaged their eyesight by looking at the bright side. Sometimes…” I clear my throat. “Sometimes it’s really hard, though. But it helps.”

“I love that.”

We talk for nearly an hour, which is bonkers because we don’t even know each other. I tell her about Ford and me. I tell her what I’ve learned from Tilly. She talks about Tilly, too.

“Our children never really belong to us,” Willa says.

“I think that’s true. Tilly is her own person.”

“Yes, exactly.”

When we finally end the conversation, knowing we won’t speak again, I dig deep for my optimism and faith.

“Thank you for this, Andi,” Willa says. “You didn’t make things worse. You made them easier.”

“I doubt that,” I croak.

“A little easier. It’s still hard. But I feel some peace of mind now, knowing you a bit, and knowing Ford, and that you two love Matilda. So thank you.”

I don’t cry. I feel more peaceful, too. That was so hard. But not as hard as it is for Willa.

Life is hard. Sometimes it’s great. Sometimes it’s fucked up. But it’s also short. Too damn short. And sometimes a lot shorter than it should be.

I can’t be a coward anymore. I have to be as brave as Willa, although what I’m going through is nothing compared to what she’s experiencing.

Life is short, so we have to live it. And I’m going to do that. For Ford. For Tilly. For Willa. And for me.

35

FORD

Since Andi bolted out of my place in tears, I’ve been freaking the fuck out myself.

I know this is hard. I fuckingknowit. I’mlivingit, for fuck’s sake.

But we need to get through this together. I thought we agreed on that. We love each other.

I thought we did, anyway.

Of course this stirs up my doubts again.

I wanted to chase her down the hall and force her to listen to me. I can’t stand seeing her so heartbroken. I can’t handle her tears.

It’s too much. I can’t handle it. I have to go.

What does that mean? Is she gone forever? Is she being a coward? Is she dumping me, just like I was afraid of?

Jesus hula-hooping Christ.

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