Page 11 of Someone to Remember
She nods and turns to leave the room.
I rub Taylor’s arm. “Tay? She said you can go home. The kids will be looking for you.”
“I don’t want to go home.”
What can I say to that? I wouldn’t want to go home if I were her either. When she gets there, she’ll confront the fact that the man she made that home with will never come walking through the door again. She’ll have to tell her children that the daddy who helped to heal their broken hearts is gone forever, like their first dad.
It’s unfathomable.
We lie there for a long time without moving. I’m not sure if she’s asleep or awake until she suddenly gets up, moving slowly but steadily as she goes to the bathroom and shuts the door.
I turn toward Gage.
He reaches a hand out to me.
I curl my fingers around his and keep my gaze fixed on his, drawing strength from him the way I do so often these days.
When the bathroom door opens, I release his hand and sit up to figure out what Taylor needs.
“You guys should get home to your kids,” she says in a dull and flat tone. Her eyes are red, raw andswollen.
She opens the closet door to find her clothes.
“We’ll take you home,” Gage says.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“We know,” he says. “We don’t mind.”
Taylor returns to the bathroom to get dressed.
When she’s done, Gage and I each take a turn in the bathroom before we walk her to the nurse’s station to pick up her discharge paperwork.
They insist on giving her a ride to the exit.
Taylor takes a seat in the wheelchair and looks straight ahead, not seeing the sympathetic looks she receives from various staff members on the way to the main doors. By now, everyone has heard about the expectant mother who’s been widowed for the second time.
My heart is heavy as I walk beside her while Gage goes to get the car.
I can’t help but think of the first day after learning Mike was killed in the plane crash, and how surreal it was to have to deal with people and life things and hungry children as if my whole world hadn’t imploded. That day, I had no idea how my widow journey would unfold. Hell, I hadn’t even realized yet that my widowhood would be a “journey.”
All I knew then was that my heart was shattered, my children were devastated, and I had no idea what I was supposed to do without the man I loved with all my heart. I needed him to show me the way through, only he wasn’t there anymore, and I had to find my own way.
This time, Taylor knows what’s ahead for her and her children. She must feel like she’s standing at the base of Mount Everest, looking up at an impossible challenge, trying to once again find a way to the top.
When I offer her the front seat of Gage’s Range Rover, she declines, opting for the back seat as I direct Gage to her home in Falls Church.
For the first time all day, I check myphone and see a text from my mother, expressing heartbreak for Taylor and her kids.Don’t worry about a thing here. I can stay as long as you need me.
My eyes fill with tears as I’m overcome with gratitude for her and my stepdad, who’ve held me up through all the good times and bad. They’re always there for me and my kids—and now Gage, too—and I couldn’t do life without them.
Thank you,I respond to her.Not sure what Taylor needs today, but we’re taking her home now. Will keep you posted.
Give her our love.
I will.
At some point, I have to tell our Wild Widows about this, but I’ll take care of that dreaded task later.
