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“Good morning. How many?”
“Oh, I think my friend is already here,” I tell the hostess. “She’s a tall, beautiful brunette.”
“Oh, yes. Right this way.”
Following along behind this pretty young hostess until I reach Kat’s table, I look about the place. The Belleview Café has been a popular spot in Hanover for what feels like forever. It’s a small, family-owned place. If I’d looked past the hostess stand, I’d likely have seen Kat. The café has been our go-to spot for breakfast or lunch for years. I admit, I haven’t been here in a very long time. But then again, I haven’t been much of anywhere in a long time.
“Oh, it’s so good to see you outside of the hospital, Poppy,” Katarina greets. She’s wearing a pretty white sundress covered in lemons. Her hair is down but pulled back on the sides to reveal matching yellow teardrop earrings.
“You look so cute, Kat.”
“Thank you. So do you.” On impulse, I look down at my outfit. I’m wearing white linen capri pants and a sleeveless sweater. And now that I think about it, I’m not one hundred percent sure my shoes match. I really need to take a little more time to get ready before I leave the house. Heck, I’ve only returned to using makeup about a year ago and thought that was a big step.
Grief is a funny thing. You finally get one foot in front of the other after losing your spouse, only to feel guilty about everything you do. If I try to look nice or spend the evening doing something that brings me joy, it causes such heartache because he isn’t able to do the same. Even laughing feels disrespectful. I know Dan wouldn’t want me to feel this way, but I’ve needed to handle my sadness in my own way. It’s much better than it was in the years immediately following his death. But I realize I have a long way to go.
“Can I get you ladies something to drink?” the handsome young server asks, pen in hand.
“Oh, just coffee and water for me, please,” Kat answers.
“I’ll take the same. But could I have a slice of lemon in my water? Her outfit’s causing lemony cravings.” I giggle. My hand flies to my mouth, surprised at my own comment. It’s been years, and I still find lighthearted banter a bit jarring.God, what is wrong with me?
As if Kat can sense what I’m feeling, she reaches across the table to take my hand. “How are you, Poppy? I feel terrible I haven’t made more effort to connect with you over the last few years. But I admit, I was struggling with my own demons. But now that things are brighter, I should’ve reached out.”
“Don’t be silly, Katarina. You’ve reached out more than most. And early on, I couldn’t handle spending time with anyone.” I haven’t really left the door open for someone to check on me. “It took a few years before I could have a conversation with anyone but my mother and Dan’s headstone. And that may have only been because I doubted either could hear what I was saying.” I give a half-hearted snicker.
Kat grimaces at my remark. But I know she understands.
“Besides, I’m a big girl. I could’ve called you. I wish I’d been there for you too. But I think Nick is who you needed. I’m so happy for the two of you.”
“Thank you. We’re still in the honeymoon phase. Can you believe it? It’s coming up on our first anniversary.”
The server returns with our drinks and takes our brunch order. Unlike many of the restaurants in the area, The Belleview Café offers brunch seven days a week. We’ve eaten here so often that we rarely look at the menu.
“How’s little Grace?”
Katarina’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. “She’s wonderful. For a premature baby, she’s done remarkably well. I had no idea how much I’d enjoy motherhood until we adopted her.” I watch as the corners of her mouth abruptly bend into a frown. “Poppy. You know there are options if you decide you aren’t ready to remarry but want to have a child.”
“I don’t know, Kat. I’m barely coming to terms with living without Dan. I haven’t really contemplated children.”
“Don’t tell anyone, but Nick and I are going through classes to become foster parents.”
Her statement catches me off guard. I’d almost forgotten Katarina could no longer have biological children. I’d assumed they would’ve attempted the use of a surrogate. I’m not sure why, beyond the fact that she and her husband are two of the most attractive people on the planet. Plus, I know Nick could afford it. “That’s amazing, Kat. Do you mind my asking why you didn’t consider using a surrogate?”
“I don’t mind anything you ask, Poppy. I’m an open book.” She beams. “We’ve looked at everything. It’s not that we wouldn’t consider that route in the future, but neither of us feels the need for our kids to be biological. There are so many children already here who need a good home. I’ll be sad to miss the early years, but there are a lot of older boys and girls in foster care. Heck, we met Nick’s little brother, Gavin, through the Boys and Girls Club of Virginia mentoring program.” Kat makes air quotes as she says little brother. “But their connection was so strong that he’s practically a member of our family. So this doesn’t feel much different.”
I sit back in my seat, trying to absorb all she’s said. “You’re amazing, my friend. I’m so incredibly proud of you. You deserve your happily ever after.”
Kat immediately reaches back across the table, this time grabbing both of my hands. “So. Do. You.”
I can’t help but look away. We’re diving right into the deep end this morning.
“Poppy. You’ve been through so much. I get it. This wasn’t just a spouse losing her partner. You suffered right along with him. You didn’t have time to mourn the life you two had together before you had to grieve the heartbreak of losing him.”
My sweet soulmate, Daniel Danforth, died at age thirty-one of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis or ALS as it’s more commonly known. Many refer to it as Lou Gehrig’s disease, after the popular New York Yankees baseball player who died of the disorder at age thirty-seven. ALS is a progressive, debilitating, and ultimately fatal disorder that results in the loss of voluntary motor control. While it’s rare to be diagnosed with ALS at such a young age, it can happen.
Stephen Hawkings was diagnosed at age twenty-one but lived with paralysis until his seventies. Sadly, Dan was gone less than four years after his condition was identified. He was only twenty-eight when the early symptoms of stiff muscles, intermittent twitches, and weakness began to occur. My fit, vibrant husband of six years was wheelchair-bound by twenty-nine and by age thirty, was unable to speak or swallow.
Those years were excruciating. I tried to keep a brave face for my loving husband, who never complained. Never shed a tear. He had a nurse with him during the day, and I’d take care of his needs once I returned home from work. During this period, I left my employment at the drugstore and applied to St. Luke’s. People’s Drug had shifted toward using pharmacists as managers of their stores. The stress was too much, given all that I was dealing with at home. Not to mention, it wasn’t what I signed up for when I went to pharmacy school.
