“Doing what?” she asks.
“Things,” I snip.
“What kinds of things?”
I toss the spatula I’m holding into the mixing bowl with a clatter. “Avoiding Ron things, okay?”
She wags a finger at me. “I knew it. I was worried this might happen.”
“Worriedwhatmight happen?” I huff.
“That being at that hospital would bring back some difficult memories and you’d freak out and overanalyze everything.”
I open my mouth to speak but she cuts me off.
“I’m not saying you don’t have every right to freak out, because you do. Though, you could stand to chill on the overanalyzing part,” she says.
“It’s not just that, Rose. He wants me to meet his son.”
She throws up her hands. “So? He’s met your kids. He’s met me.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. It just is.” I press my fingertips to my temples. “That feels like a big commitment, doesn’t it? I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”
“For Heaven's sake, Myra Jean. We’re not twenty-five anymore. We’re too old to not communicate with the people we care about. You need to tell him what’s on your mind. He deserves to know where your head’s at.”
“I know.” I run my tongue over my teeth, my mouth suddenly dry. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell him what I’m feeling.”
Her tone softens. “Which is?”
“That I don’t know what I want. I’m scared.” I blow out a steady stream of air. “God, Rose. Let’s say Idoget together with Ron or anyone else and we commit to each other. What happens if history repeats itself? I wouldn’t survive another loss like that.”
“Of course, you would.”
I scoff at her. “That’s a callous thing to say.”
“No. It isn’t.” She presses her palms flat on the counter. “It’s the truth. You thought you wouldn’t survive losing Henry, yet here you are. You made it because you had to. Because that’s what people do.”
“I haven’t exactly been thriving.”
“Maybe not at first,” she says. “But now? I think you’re doing pretty damn good.” She holds out a hand to stop the rebuttal I’m ready to launch at her. “And that’s okay. That’s a good thing. It means you’re healing.”
I grab the cup towel beside the sink and wipe my hands. “Maybe I don’t want to be healed.”
“Sure, you do.” She reaches across the counter to touch my arm. “Why would you say that?”
I blink back the tears burning at the corners of my eyes. “If I’m all healed and better, what does that mean for Henry?”
“Uh.” She juts her chin forward and scrunches her brow. “Nothing, I suppose. It’s not like he can really be a part of it.”
“Exactly. If I move on, Henry is really gone.”
“He’s gone either way, sister.”
“I know,” I snap. “Don’t you think I know that? Imeant, if I were to move on with someone else,thatbecomes my life, and Henry just disappears into the ether.”
