Page 16 of Someone to Remember
“I want to come with you,” Eliza says.
“Give Mommy a minute to shower,” my mom says. “She’ll be right back.”
Eliza isn’t happy with that, but she doesn’t say anything else as I walk upstairs to the bedroom Will and I fully renovated together to make it ours after we decided to stay in the house Greg and I had bought because it was best for the kids. Our bedroom is painted in a shade of navy blue that I thoughtwould be too dark, but Will insisted it would be awesome, and he was right, as usual.
Our bathroom wallpaper is a navy-and-white stripe over beadboard trim that Will installed himself. I run a hand over the glossy white paint on the trim and recall the weekend we spent working on the bathroom while my parents had the kids. He made everything fun, even tasks I usually hated, such as painting.
After he installed the tile I’d chosen, we made love right on the floor.
I drop to my knees on the navy area rug and sob as it becomes clear to me that I can’t stay in this house that tragedy has now visited twice.
I’m going to have to move.
Iris
I’ve respondedto the inquiries from Taylor’s friends and extended family. Everyone is shocked for her and the kids and asking what they can do to help. I promise someone will get back to them when we have more information. One of her friends from the kids’ school offers to start a meal train, and I tell her I’m sure that Taylor would appreciate it.
I hope that’s the case. As long as her parents will be here to receive any drop-offs, that is. I don’t want her having to interact with people until she’s ready to.
“Do you think you should go home to see the kids?” I ask Gage.
“I was going to suggest that, if you’re okay with it.”
“I’m okay, and my mom is probably ready for a break. Will you tell them what happened?”
“You don’t want me to wait for you?”
“What do you think we should do?” I love having someone to ask again, not to mention someone who always knows theright way to proceed. Gage is truly one of the wisest people I know, even if much of that wisdom is hard-won through terrible loss.
“I think it would be okay coming from me. They don’t know Will that well, but they’ll feel for Eliza and Miles.”
“Yes, they will. Tell them they’ll see the kids soon. Maybe they can make some cards for them or something.”
“That’s a good idea. I’ll suggest that. What should we do about the Wild Widows?”
“I dread having to tell them this.”
“I know. Me, too.”
“But I can’t let them hear it from someone else.”
“Maybe you should call Christy and talk to her about the best way to handle it.”
“That’s a good idea. I’ll do that.”
He gets up and then bends to kiss me. “You’ll call me if you need me?”
I take his hand. “Always.”
We gaze at each other for a long moment as a million thoughts go through my mind about life and love and loss and the precarious nature of it all.
“Please be careful driving,” I tell him, almost afraid to allow him out of my sight.
“I will.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
