Page 67 of Someone to Remember
“Yeah, I’d take a hard pass on the murder shit if I had the choice.”
“Right there with you.”
He gives me a tight squeeze. “I’ll always be right here with you—and Dylan and Maeve and maybe another one someday. And whenever the PTSD shows up, we’ll get through it together.”
“There’s tremendous comfort in that.”
“For me, too.”
I reach out to put my hand on his face and bring him in for a kiss. “I love you.”
“Love you, too. So, so much, and I hate to see you suffering.”
“This too shall pass.”
“Yes, it will, and in the meantime, we have an entire kid-free day to do whatever we want. What shall we do?”
“I can’t think of a single thing. You?”
His hand moves in slow circles over my back. “I’ve got a few ideas.”
“Is it the same idea you have most nights at bedtime and during weekend naptime?”
“Very similar in many ways, the only difference being that naked time can last all day.”
I laugh and lean into him. “Sounds good to me.”
Sixteen
Iris
Taylor has turned over the planning for the funeral to Will’s family because she said it matters more to his religious parents than it does to her. She’s staying focused on her kids and preparing for the birth of her new baby. Thankfully, the swelling in her ankles has subsided, and she’s feeling better than she was.
Today, I had no choice but to call Lexi and fill her in on what’s been going on while she was celebrating her engagement.
“Oh my God,” she says. “I feel like such a jerk.”
“What? No! We’re thrilled for you and Tom. Please don’t feel bad. You had no way to know about Will, and none of us wanted to steal your hard-won joy. Trust me, your good news has been a light at an otherwise dark time.”
“I hesitate to ask how Taylor and the kids are doing…”
“It’s been rough, but they’re soldiering through.”
“And her baby is due so soon, too.”
“It’s all so fucking tragic.”
“I’m so, so sad for her and the kids and everyone who loved Will.”
“I am, too.”
A somber group gathers in my living room on Wednesday night.
There’s none of the usual friendly bickering and laughter that have become such a big part of our weekly get-togethers.
“How’s everyone doing?” I ask when we’re seated in a circle, each of us with a plate of appetizers that Joy and Christy brought.
There’s much exchanging of glances before Lexi says, “I’m so sorry to all of you who know Taylor and Will better than I do.”
