Page 73 of Someone to Remember
“Iris!”
“What? I said okay.”
I shake my head with amusement and go to get the plate I brought with the brownies that are all gone. Good thing I held some back for the kids, who are at home with my mom.
I say my good nights, dodging questions and comments about Luke, and head out to my car, wondering how long I’ll have to wait to hear from him.
Angela
I drive hometoward the District, thinking about Wynter’s outburst and how on the mark she was with what she said. I haven’t been part of the group for long, but I already know her message is not the one they promote. The Wild Widows are all about moving forward with optimism and courage and hope.
On most days, I agree with Wynter. It’s all bullshit. The stuff about optimism and hope gets old when you’re taking care of three young kids without the person who was supposed to be your partner in all things. Hope is the last thing on my mind when I have a hungry baby, a crying toddler and a little boy suffering from tremendous grief that seems to be getting worse with time, not better.
I’m so worked up that I decide to call Brad, because he’ll understand exactly how I feel.
“Hey,” he says, “how was the meeting?”
“It was good, but tougher tonight because we were talking about Taylor and Will. People who knew them well are really upset, and people who hardly knew them are traumatized from hearing about it.”
“I get that. I didn’t know them, but it’s all I’ve thought about since you told me. I read some of the news coverage of the accident, and that didn’t help.”
“Why’d you do that?”
“Professional curiosity, I guess.”
“That was dumb.”
He chuckles. “I realized that pretty quickly.”
“One of the younger members went off on how something like this brings home the fact that the whole hope-and-optimism message is total bullshit.”
“Yikes, how’d that go over?”
“There’s this one guy, Gage, who’s a bit older than the rest of us. He lost his wife and twin daughters to a drunk driver.”
Brad’s wince is audible.
“He agrees it’s all bullshit, but then he said something to the effect of, What choice do we have butto at least try to make something of the life we have left? He said it much more eloquently than I did, but that was the gist.”
“He’s the one who writes the Instagram posts, right?”
“Yes.”
“I read all his posts one night recently. If he says we have to make something of the life we have left, I’m down with it. The guy gets it like no one else I’ve encountered since this happened.”
“He’s great, but they all are. I still say you should come to a meeting. Tonight was an exception, but I usually leave feeling uplifted and energized to face the days ahead. That doesn’t last for long, but I’ll take the temporary high where I can get it.”
“I’ve been thinking about checking it out.”
“Can’t hurt to come once and see what you think. Next week?”
“I’ll see how I’m feeling.”
“Sounds good. I won’t pressure you.”
“It’s okay if you do. I like being pressured by you.”
I can’t contain the nervous laughter. “Whatever that means.”
