Page 19 of Someone to Remember
I can’t tell him I want to curl up in a ball in bed, pull the covers over my head and tune out everything and everyone forever. That way, nothing can ever hurt me again the way it did to lose Wes so suddenly and traumatically. It’s a blessing of sorts that my kids didn’t know Will that well, having met him only a handful of times. Taylor’s kids are quite a bit younger than mine, so we don’t hang out with them very often. At least Will’s death won’t be another big loss for them.
But Taylor’s kids… They loved Will so much, and he was so great with them. Those poor babies—and the new baby, too. My God, what a fucking tragedy any way you look at it.
My head feels too heavy to hold up as I’m swamped with exhaustion that reminds me of my early grief after losing Wes, when I’d suddenly hit a wall. That’s another thing that hasn’t happened in a very long time. Moving like a zombie, I get up and walk to the stairs.
I’m aware of Trey following me, but I’m detached from him, as if he’s become a stranger in the last few minutes, or something equally dramatic. An hour ago, feeling like that toward him would’ve freaked me out. Now I can’t be bothered to care about trivial things such as messing up my second chance at true love.
I hear Trey talking to someone, but I don’t know who.
What does it matter?
What does anything matter?
Roni
Maeve and Dylanare on the playroom floor in our new home in Alexandria, surrounded by toys. They’reendlessly delighted with each other, and I’m thankful to her for all the attention she gives to him. At four, she’s the most delightful little girl, and I’m so lucky to have a hand in raising her, and Dylan is running around at eighteen months. It’s a big deal to take on someone else’s child, but Derek and I are committed to each other—and each other’s children—and it’s a relief to finally be settled in a home we chose together.
We found a gorgeous old Craftsman-style house that was fully renovated by the previous owner with choices I would’ve made myself in every room. Derek and I are madly in love with our new place, and we’ve enjoyed hosting friends and family here.
I have to be honest, though. Leaving the home I created with my late husband, Patrick, was much harder than I expected it to be, even almost two years later. The transitions, from then to now, from first love to new love, from my home with him to my new home with Derek… Each of them is an important part of my widow journey, but the mixed emotions that come with each stage can be overwhelming at times.
Making space for a future with Derek while honoring my past with Patrick can be a tricky balancing act, especially since I was leaving such an important part of my story with Patrick. We loved our place in the District and spent most weekends looking for antiques and other treasures to decorate our home, much of which has now been sold or rehomed.
“Heartbreak on top of heartbreak” is how Derek described it as we shed possessions from our first marriages so we could move forward in our new lives together. Those months were full of brutal decisions and lots of tears as we chased the joy of our new happily ever after.
I kept a few things I can’t bear to part with such as some of our most-listened-to records, his favorite baseball caps, his signed photo of Cal Ripken and some of the awards he won for his work and have given them special placement in the room I’m using as my home office. Derek has a similarcollection of Victoria’s special things in his office. We’ve also put framed photos of Patrick in Dylan’s room and Victoria in Maeve’s.
Every day, we talk about both of them with the kids, trying to keep them present in their lives even as I become Maeve’s mother more every day, while Derek is the only father Dylan will ever know. Life is so strange and painful and wonderful—often at the same time, which can make for a tilt-a-whirl existence at times.
Derek strolls into the room, shirtless, unshaven, hair standing on end, and my heart gives a happy lift at the sight of him. I love what he calls his weekend slob look, which is a huge departure from his polished weekday appearance as deputy chief of staff to President Cappuano. As one of Nick’s top advisers, he works a lot of weekends, so I’m always thankful for the ones we get to spend together.
He plops down on the sofa next to me. “Good morning. Kiss me.”
“You’re bossy today,” I say, smiling as I press my lips to his.
“Thanks for letting me sleep in. I can’t remember the last time I did that.”
“It’s been a minute.”
“Your turn tomorrow.”
“I won’t say no to that.”
Maeve rolls onto her back. “Daddy, Dylan and I are having a staring contest, and he keeps winning.”
“His eyes are younger than yours. That’s why you always beat me.”
“So he’llalwayswin?”
“Possibly, but you’ll be better than him at other things, and he’ll be your best buddy.”
“He already is.” Maeve turns back to Dylan, pushing his toys into his reach. She’s such a helper, and we love to say we couldn’t handle Dylan without her.
I put my hand on my chest. “My heart.”
Derek smiles a lot these days, a vast difference fromwhen I first met him. Then he was overwhelmed by the responsibility of caring for Maeve as a single dad while holding down a huge job and managing the lingering grief of losing his wife to murder. After she died, he learned that his marriage had started as a scheme to get a plant close to then-President Nelson’s team.
Thank God for the letter Victoria left for him, professing her love and devotion, despite how things had begun. She was murdered because she refused to cooperate with the men who forced her to deceive him. Her murderers, including former presidential candidate Arnie Patterson and his sons, Christian and Colton, will finally stand trial in the new year. I’m dreading that and hoping it doesn’t cause a huge setback for Derek.
