Page 32 of When I'm Gone
“Yeah, sorry. I think I taste tested a little too much of the frosting and it put me in a sugar coma.” Luke laughed it off, trying to forget the very real dream he’d been sucked out of.
“That cake looks like it could use a little help.” This time her frown was playful. He glanced over at the white cake, half-covered in chocolate frosting with little bits of cake mixed in it.
“I never turn down free help,” Luke said, folding Natalie’s letter quickly and putting it in his front pocket.
“Free? Who said it’d be free?” Annie laughed. “Hey, do you have an apron?” She gestured to her fancy getup.
“I’m sure I still have some in one of the pantry closets. Let me look.” Luke crossed from the couch to the white bifold doors against the back wall of the kitchen, opened them, and rummaged through a box of fabric, pot holders, and bibs till he grabbed a long thin string of fabric that appeared to be an apron ribbon. “Here you go!”
Luke tossed the apron across the room and Annie caught it. She shook out the wrinkles from the oversize white apron and froze.
“Do you have another one?” Her voice quavered like she was about to cry. She turned the apron around. It was Natalie’s Mother’s Day apron, with all the kids’ hand- and footprints on it. They’d made it with Natalie’s mom before Clayton could walk. Luke turned away before he could remember the last Mother’s Day together before the diagnosis.
He cleared his throat and searched more carefully this time, selecting the apron he used when grilling. It said something stupid like “Kiss the Cook,” but it was better. May’s birthday was the first big family celebration since Natalie’s death, and though they were all putting on a convincing impression of having fun, the fewer reminders of what was missing, the better.
For Luke, remembering was hard in a different way. On days like today, Luke missed the old Natalie—his wife, mother of his children, the woman he thought he knew. But in order to miss her like that, he had to push all of his questions aside.
As for Andy Garner, Luke had gone as far as finding him on Facebook, but the guy’s account was set to private. He hadn’t come to the funeral, but Natalie used to take the kids to visit him. On Facebook, all Luke found was a picture of a man, who must be Andy, in a hat and sunglasses holding up a large silver fish. Dr. Neal, in contrast, remained a mysterious figure, and all efforts at digging up information had come to a halt as Luke focused on planning May’s party.
Suddenly Annie was beside him, a hand on his back between the shoulder blades. That was her normal spot now. Her liberally displayed affection used to bother him, but he was starting to remember how nice it was to be comforted by another living human. There’s only so much comfort that notebook paper could provide.
“I’ll put this back in here. It’s special. I wouldn’t want to get it dirty.” She placed the folded apron into the bin and slipped the new one over her head. “Besides, this is more my style, don’t you think?” She modeled the red-checkered apron with hands on her hips.
Luke chuckled. “Oh yes. Very chic.”
“Will you tighten this for me?” She’d already wrapped the strings around her waist three or four times and tied them in the front, but the neckline sagged low, providing little protection for her top half. Annie turned around and stared at her feet, exposing the metal buckle at the base of her neck. Luke took a step closer, suddenly overly aware of how she smelled like flowers. He wiped his hands on his pant leg and reached for the aluminum clip. As he grabbed it, Brian’s deep voice interrupted.
“Where do you want me to put this salad, babe?” Brian didn’t wait for a response and instead tossed a green plastic bowl on the kitchen island, where it bumped against the already pathetic cake. “Nice apron.” Brian laughed, making his way across the kitchen. He ran his index finger along the words printed on the fabric sagging across her chest. Kiss the Cook. Grabbing her chin roughly with his thumb and forefinger, Brian whispered, “Don’t mind if I do,” and planted one right on Annie’s mouth.
Annie’s head jerked back at first, but Brian didn’t seem to notice. He wrapped one hand around her waist, pulling her into him just like Luke had dreamed about doing with Natalie. It took Luke a moment to realize he was still holding the clip on Annie’s apron.
He dropped it and backed away, staring at the ground, wishing he didn’t feel a swell of jealousy in his chest. He told himself that he wasn’t jealous because Brian was kissing Annie. He was jealous because he could never kiss Natalie ever again.
Annie pushed Brian away, out of breath.
“Brian!” She slapped his shoulder. “There are children present!”
“Who, Luke?” Brian nuzzled Annie’s cheek with his nose. “I’m sure he’s figured out the birds and the bees by now.”
Annie glanced over her shoulder, cheeks flushed and worry lines around her eyes. Luke had become far too familiar with that look on her face. He was getting good at reading Annie. The more time they spent together, the less she felt like this image he had of Natalie’s best friend and the more she seemed like her own, three-dimensional person, a complicated puzzle for which he didn’t have all the pieces.
“There’s beer in the fridge if you need to cool down, loverboy,” Luke joked in an attempt to make Annie feel better. He’d never figured out the whole dude-bro thing, but he’d been around long enough to know how to fake it. “Annie promised to help me finish this cake.”
Brian spun Annie out like a professional ballroom dancer, and her laugh echoed through the kitchen. Clayton must’ve heard it from his bedroom because seconds later there was a chorus of stomping feet on the stairs.
“Annie!”A little blond head bobbed up and down in a blur through the kitchen, leaping into Annie’s arms. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, bud.” Annie kissed the top of his head and gave Clayton a hug that could crunch bones.
“It’s been less than a day. I don’t think that counts as long enough to miss someone,” Brian said under his breath.
“I missed you too, Mr. Brian,” Clayton said before shoving his pruned fingers in his mouth.
Brian cocked his head to the side like a dog hearing a sound for the first time.
“Huh?” He chuckled and ruffled Clayton’s hair. “I missed you too, kid.”
Annie smiled up at her husband in a way Luke had never seen. He’d seen embarrassed, entertained, happy, and annoyed, but at this moment she looked proud. Snuggling Clayton in tighter, Annie headed for the cake.
