Page 81 of Welcome to Forever
She stared at him. A lot of people had told her that lately. The business card that’d been burning a hole in her purse, and her thoughts, especially since Julie had brought it back up, came to mind. The Veterans’ Center’s director had handed Kat the card two months earlier, telling her to stop by sometime.
Kat had put off going, telling herself she didn’t have the time or the need to go. But ever since receiving that phone call from John’s mother, the support group for Marine widows had been at the forefront of her mind. A strong woman would’ve called Rita back by now, so why hadn’t she? Maybe she needed to go and talk to other people who’d experienced the same kind of loss that she had.
“You sure?” she asked, glancing over at Liam.
“Gotta earn my keep somehow, don’t I? See you tomorrow, Principal Chandler.”
She nodded. Okay. She’d go to the support group. And maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
—
A half hour later, Kat stared at her watch, hesitating behind the closed door. She was five minutes late. Being late was a pet peeve, and a perfect excuse for turning right around and going back to her car.
Deciding to come here had been a temporary moment of insanity. She didn’t need to be here. And, really, how would talking about John’s death help anything? People had been telling her to move on and stop talking about it for the last two years.
Right.So she’d just be leaving now.
“Kat. You came.” Allison Carmichael, the Veterans’ Center’s director, seemed to appear out of nowhere. “I thought your schedule wouldn’t allow you to be here at this time.”
Yeah. That had been the excuse.And it would’ve worked if she hadn’t had a lapse in judgment. “Well, it looks like I’m late anyway, so I’ll um…” She rolled her lips together, glancing past Allison’s shoulders to the glimmering beacon of hope right above the facility’s double doors—the exit sign.
“Nonsense. The group is just about to get started. They like to kick off by having coffee and refreshments. Here.” She opened the door and gently pushed Kat inside. “I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
It was nearly as bad as walking into the Marine Corps ball the other night. All eyes suddenly turned to watch her, as she walked in with feet like lead. She wanted to turn around and walk right back out, but something about the eyes staring back at her…haunted and full of hope…lured her to continue forward. “Hi,” she whispered, swallowing hard.
The woman at the center of the circle stood and smiled warmly. “Katherine Chandler. We’re glad to have you.”
Kat nodded, the words sticking in her throat. “Please, call me Kat.” Conveniently, there was one empty seat, welcoming her to sit down. She did, and then something else happened—she started talking. And even if her story had been heard before, people listened and they understood because they’d all been through the same unspeakable horror of losing a loved one to war.
“He’s never coming home. I know that.” Kat’s hand went to the ring she wore on her neck. “And I need to let go. Really let go, if I ever want to move forward.”
When she left the meeting, she felt like a weight had been lifted. A big, oversized weight that she hadn’t even realized she’d been carrying. And just like releasing a balloon, she left her story in the support group. It didn’t define her, even if it’d always be a part of her.
“Will you come again?” an older Hispanic woman asked as they walked out into the front room together.
Kat hesitated and then nodded. “Yes. I think maybe I will.”
“Good. See you later then.” The woman waved and walked into the parking lot.
Kat planned on following just as soon as she made one very important phone call that couldn’t wait another second. Pulling out her phone, she ignored the green blinking light that signaled about a thousand voice messages, scrolling through until she found Rita Cruise’s contact number. With a steady hand, she dialed.
