Page 44 of Summer Weddings
“Tell me about it,” Robin said in a quiet voice.
“Well, standing there at the end of the pier… I don’t know. For the first time since I lost my son, I felt his presence more than I did his absence. It was as if he was there at my side, pointing out the Olympic Mountains and asking questions. Bobby was always full of questions. My heart felt lighter than it had in years—as though the burden of pain and grief had been lifted from my shoulders. For no reason whatsoever, I started to smile. I think I’ve been smiling ever since. And laughing. And feeling.
“When I got back to the hotel, I had the sudden urge to hear your voice. I didn’t have any excuse to call you, so I phoned on the pretense of talking to Jeff and checking up on Blackie. But it was your voice I wanted to hear.”
Robin smiled through the unexpected rush of tears, wondering if Cole realized what he was saying. It might’ve been her voice hethoughthe wanted to hear, but it was Jeff he’d called.
“I discovered a new freedom on that Seattle pier. It was as if,in that moment, I was released from the past. I can’t say exactly what changed. Meeting you and Jeff played a big role in it, I recognize that much, but it was more than that. It was as if something deep inside me was willing to admit that it was finally time to let go.”
“I’m glad for you,” Robin whispered.
“The problem is, I never allowed myself to grieve properly or deal with the anger I felt toward Jennifer. She was driving at the time and the accident was her fault. Yet deep in my heart I know she’d never purposely have done anything to hurt Bobby. She loved him as much as I did. He was her son, too.
“It wasn’t until I met you that I knew I had to forgive her. I was never the kind of husband she needed and I’m afraid I was a disappointment to her. Only in the last few years of our marriage was I willing to accept that she suffered from a serious emotional and mental illness. Her addiction to alcohol was as much a disease as cancer. I didn’t understand her illness, and because of that we all suffered.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Robin said, but she doubted Cole even heard her.
“After the accident, the anger and the grief were a constant gnawing pain. I refused to acknowledge or deal with either emotion. Over the years, instead of healing, I let the agony of my loss grow more intense. I closed myself off from friends and colleagues and threw myself into work, spending far more time in the office than I did at home. Blackie was virtually my only companion. And then a few years ago I started working on my place in the country. But the pleasure that gave me came from hard physical work, the kind that leaves you too tired to think.” His features softened and he smiled at her. “I’d forgotten what it was like to fly a kite or laze in the sunshine.”
“That’s why you suggested the picnic with Jeff and me?”
He grinned and his dark eyes seemed almost boyish. “The last time I was in Golden Gate Park was with Bobby,shortly before the accident. Deciding to have a picnic there was a giant step for me. I half expected to feel pangs of grief, if not a full-blown assault. Instead I experienced joy—and appreciation for the renewal I felt. Laughter is a gift I’d forgotten. You and Jeff helped me see that, as well.”
Everything Cole was saying confirmed her worst fears.
“Mom!” Jeff roared into the kitchen with Blackie at his heels. “Is there anything to eat? Are you guys still going out to dinner? I don’t suppose you’d bring me, would you?”
Cole chuckled, then leapt to his feet to playfully muss Jeff’s hair. “Not this time, sport. Tonight’s for your mother and me.”
* * *
Two hours later, as Robin stood in front of the bathroom mirror, she had her reservations about this dinner date. She was falling in love with a man who hadn’t fully dealt with the pain of losing his wife and his son. Perhaps she recognized it in Cole because she saw the same thing in herself. She loved Lenny and always would. He’d died years ago, and she still found herself talking to him, refusing to involve herself in another relationship. A part of her continued to grieve and she suspected it always would.
Examining herself in the mirror, Robin surveyed her calf-length skirt of soft blue velvet and white silk blouse with a pearl necklace.
She was fussing with her hair, pinning one side back with combs and studying the effect, when Jeff wandered in. He leaned casually against the doorway, a bag of potato chips in his hand.
“Hey, you look nice.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.” She decided she’d spent enough time on her hair and fastened her pearl earrings. Jeff was disappointed about not joining them, but he’d been a good sport—especially after Cole promised him lunch at a fish-and-chip place on the Wharf the following Saturday.
“You’re wearing your pearls,” Jeff mumbled, his mouth full.
“Yes,” Robin said, turning to face him. “Do they look all right?”
Jeff’s halfhearted shrug didn’t do a lot to boost Robin’s confidence. “I suppose. I don’t know about stuff like that. Mrs. Lawrence could probably tell you.” He popped another potato chip in his mouth and crunched loudly. “My dad gave you those earrings, didn’t he? And the necklace?”
“For our first wedding anniversary.”
Jeff nodded. “I thought so.” His look grew reflective. “When I grow up and get married, will I do mushy stuff like that?”
“Probably,” Robin said, not bothering to disguise her amusement. “And lots of other things, too. Like taking your wife out to dinner and telling her how beautiful she is and how much you love her.”
“Yuck!” Jeff wrinkled his nose. “You really know how to ruin a guy’s appetite.” With that he turned to march down the stairs, taking his potato chips with him.
Robin stood at the top of the staircase. “Cole will be here any minute, so you can go over to Kelly’s now,” she called down.
“Okay. I put my plate in the dishwasher. Is there anything you want me to tell Kelly’s mom?”
