Page 75 of Someone to Remember
“Do you have someone who can watch your kids who won’t need to know every detail of where you’re going and with whom?”
“I can tell my sister Tracy that I’m meeting friends. She’ll be glad I’m getting out. She and Sam worry about me too much.”
“They love you. That’s why they worry.”
“I know, but it can be too much at times. They want me to say I’m okay, that everything is all right, that things are getting back to ‘normal.’ Whatever that is now. What I’ve learned from Iris and Gage and the other widows is that I’ll never again be who I was before I lost Spencer, and I’m still figuring out what my new normal looks like.”
“Again, I feel like I should be taking notes because I’ve been trying to explain that to some of the people in my life. They’re hovering on the periphery waiting for it to be safe to reengage with me. They’re waiting for the old me, the guy I used to be, and they haven’t figured out yet that he died along with Mary Alice.”
“Yes, he did, and now New Brad is figuring out the rest ofhis life.”
“He’s trying, anyway. What should we do on our big night out?”
“Let’s not put pressure on it by calling it big.”
“Right,” he says with a chuckle. “What should we do?”
“I’d be up for a dinner where I don’t have to cut anyone’s food or wipe faces.”
“That’d be nice, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You said you love Mexican, right?”
“I did.”
“There’s a place we used to go… before everything happened. The food is really good, and it’s quiet, off the beaten path. We could check that out.”
“Will you be triggered by memories if we go somewhere you’ve been with her?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve been to some of our places and done okay. But thank you for thinking of that.”
“It’s the little things that make for a successful outing for a widow.”
“Life is like a minefield for us.”
“Yeah, seriously. Hopefully, the mines won’t always be active.”
“That’d be nice.”
“So I’m home, and I need to let my sister go home. Can I call you back in a bit?”
“I’m here all night.”
I laugh at a line we’ve said to each other frequently. Without a partner to rely on, we can’t go anywhere once the kids are in bed.
“Okay, talk soon.”
“I can’t wait.”
My heart is in my throat as I end the call and get out of the car. So, that happened. He asked me out, and I said yes. In truth, we’ve been heading toward this for months. Not that I actively thought of him as a potential romantic partner. I’vebeen too busy surviving every crazy day with two traumatized kids and an infant. Who has the time to think about romance?
But one phone call at a time, one playdate with the kids at a time, a thousand texts later, a friendship has blossomed into the possibility of something… more.
Am I ready for something more? Probably not, but when will I ever be ready for such a thing? Until Spencer died so tragically, it’d never occurred to me that I might one day have to date again. That I’d have to start over with a new partner—or not. If I were to stay permanently single, I feel like that would be fine, too. It’s not like I need a man to make me complete. I’ve never been that girl. I neededSpencer, not just any man.
But as I find myself on the precipice of whatever this might be with Brad, I’ve begun to wonder if maybe I’ve become that girl who can’t be without a man—not that I’d ever judge such a girl. I never would, but I didn’t think that label applied to me. Maybe it does now.
