She nods, allowing me to lead her down the short corridor where the overhead signs direct me. I push the door in, the heels of my boots clicking along the tile floor. There are only a few stalls, all of which are empty at the moment.
I wave my hands in front of the automatic dispenser until I have a couple of paper towels clutched in my fingers and dampen them under one of the faucets.
Lindsey is leaning into her reflection, palms on the counter. “Mom, I’m a mess. A mess and—” She chokes back a sob, unable to finish her sentence.
I turn her so she’s facing me and dab the towels beneath her eyes, removing the small black flakes clinging to her bottom lashes.
“I know, sweetheart,” I murmur. “But Oliver’s okay.”
“What if he wasn’t, though? What if?—”
“But heis,” I cut in. “He’s going to be fine.”
“I don’t know if I can do this.” Her voice comes out weak and childlike.
“Do what?”
“This,” she cries, throwing up her hands. “Being with somebody. Especially when that somebody risks their life for a living. He told me this didn’t happen—that they mostly answered medical calls and got cats out of trees. I let myself fall into this false sense of security that somehow Oliver was exempt from bad things happening. But he isn’t.”
I swallow hard, but my throat is dry.
“When his number showed up on my phone and I answered it and it wasn’t him…I can’t do that again.” She shakes her head.“I can’t get another call like that. If anyone can understand how I feel, it’s you.”
Idounderstand.
Losing someone you love changes you. It alters you on a cellular level. It’s not like loss is new, of course. We know it happens. I felt it when Rose and I lost our parents. I’ve felt it when I lost friends over the years to illnesses or car accidents. After each one, I swore to live each day like it was my last. And I did, for a moment, anyway. Then life inevitably got busy again and I’d get buried in the minutia of the day to day until the next loss happened, when I’d start the cycle over. I’d promise myself this time would be different.Thiswould be the turning point, when I’d stop viewing life as a promise that couldn’t be broken. But with every day that stretched between losses, the seconds blurred until the next death snapped everything back into focus. We think we still have time, that we have tomorrow.
We’re always surprised to find out we don’t.
“I get it,” I say finally. “I do.”
“What do I do?” She shakes her head, folding her arms over her chest like a shield. “Tell me what to do, Mama.”
I give her a sad smile. “I wish I had the answers, kid. Contrary to what I’ve let you and your brother and sister believe, I don’t know everything.” That elicits a small chuckle from her, so I continue. “I can’t tell you what to do. I can tell you what I wish for. I want you to have someone to grow old with. Someone who’ll rub your feet after a long day, who you’ll want to strangle sometimes because they snore like a bear. I want you to have every frustrating, magnificent, heartbreaking moment that comes with falling in love with the person who becomes your best friend.”
I scrape my teeth over my bottom lip and sigh. “But what you have to understand is that love comes at a cost thatsomeonemust pay, and as much as I want you to have that kind oflove in your life, onlyyoucan decide if it’s worth the price. I always thought your father and I would go out like they did inThe Notebook, old and moments apart, but life isn’t as kind as fiction.”
She blows a strand of hair from her eyes. “My mind is a mess. I’m so afraid of making the wrong decision.”
“I don’t think you need to make any decisions tonight. It’s been an emotional evening. Sleep on it. The important thing is, Oliver’s okay,” I say. “Listen, sweetheart, I don’t know if he’s the man for you, but Idobelieve he’s a good man. I know it’s only been a short time, but it’s clear he cares about you. And I know you care about him too.”
“I do. That’s what makes this so hard.”
The bathroom door opens, starling us both, and a petite blonde woman comes in.
“Lindsey, they just got Oliver in a room,” she says. “You can go see him now.”
Lindsey nods. “Thanks, Tessa.”
The girl gives her a warm smile and acknowledges me with a small wave before ducking out of the room.
Lindsey steeples her hands in front of her mouth.
“Go see him,” I say. “I’ll wait here as long as you need me to.”
“Will you come with me?” she asks, her words unsteady.
“Of course, I will.” I smooth my hand over her hair. “Come on. Let’s go.”
