Page 52 of Someone to Remember
Hallie
I’m on the deck, stretched out on the sofa, staring up at the stars, contemplating life and loss and the vagaries of both, when my partner, Robin, comes out with bourbon for me and wine for her. That she understands I need the hard stuff tonight is one of many ways she’s perfect for me. She lives with me when her kids are with their dad, and we look forward to the time alone together.
I take the glass from her and sit up a little to take a sip. “Thank you, hon.” She’s tall, blonde and so pretty she takes my breath away, especially when she smiles.
“How’re you doing?”
I’ve been spiraling since Joy called with the news about Taylor’s husband. I don’t know her very well and met Will only once, but the news of his death—so close to their baby’s arrival—has left me breathless. “I’m… you know… unsettled.”
More unsettled than usual, I should say. Robin has stage-four breast cancer, which is currently stable, but the unknown has been hard to manage for me after losing my wife, Gwen, to suicide.
“Have you heard from Iris?”
“She texted to say that Taylor and the kids are doing as well as can be expected. I guess she and Gage were with Taylor last night and most of today.”
“They’re good souls, those two.”
“They really are. Always there for all of us.” I swish the bourbon around in the glass. “I can’t stop thinking about Taylor and what she must be feeling. The few times I’ve met her, she seemed so happy and settled. She’d left widow life far behind, not that she didn’t still grieve for the husband she lost to brain cancer, because she did for sure. But she didn’t dwell in Widowville with the rest of us.”
“Widowville,” she says with a chuckle.
“It’s a town populated by people who get what it’s like to lose a spouse and, in our case, a young spouse who dies far too soon. Iris and Gage are the mayors of Widowville.”
“I’m comforted to know they’ll be there for you when you need them again.”
I glance at her, surprised to hear her say that, because we try to never talk about where this situationship, as we refer to it, is heading. I like to think that it’ll be years before I have to think about losing her, but we honestly have no idea how much time we’ll have. And yes, I know how crazy I am to be involved with someone staring down a fatal illness, but the reward of spending this time with her has been worth the risks.
Or so I tell myself until something like Taylor’s loss happens to remind me of what’s ahead. I try my best not to think about losing Robin. I’m focused much more on enjoying every minute we have together.
“I’m sorry to be such a drag tonight.”
“Please don’t apologize. Of course this news upset you. It upset me, and I don’t know them at all.”
“I just keep thinking about how much her kids loved Will and how they have a new baby due soon. It just boggles my mind that this could’ve happened to them.”
“I know. It’s terrible.”
“The good news, I guess, is that there’re resources available to her that she didn’t have the last time. Thanks to her and Iris and Christy, she’ll have the Wild Widows to fall back on.”
“You guys will get her through it.”
“We’ll do our best. Joy said this has her questioning everything.”
“Is she still seeing that guy? What is his name?”
“Bernie. Yes, and as far as I know, it’s been going well, but she said she’s tempted to never leave the house again.”
“Which she knows is no way to live.”
“She said that, but the temptation is real.”
“For you, too?”
I glance her way to find her watching me in that all-seeing way that’s usually a source of comfort to me. Tonight, I fear she sees too much. “Nah.”
“Liar,” she says with a chuckle.
“I don’t want to feel that way.”
