“You too,” I managed.
Diane and I chatted for the next half an hour. It had always been easy between us, and apparently, that hadn’t changed even though I wasn’t her daughter-in-law anymore.
She didn’t bring up Danny or anything related to the divorce. She talked about the two nurses who checked on her in the mornings and evenings and helped manage her pain. She told me about Danny’s sisters and their families, updating me on their lives.
About twenty minutes into my visit, Eldridge came in with three plates of applesauce cake for us. Diane made a fuss over it and even managed to eat half of the giant slice her husband had cut for her.
They’d been married a long time, and while neither were particularly demonstrative in their affection, they’d always been steady. I could see their love clearly right now. In the way Eldridge looked quietly relieved while watching her eat. With each bite she managed, some of the tension loosened in his shoulders. That might not have been a flashy sort of love, but it was the kind that endured. Caring for someone when they needed it, in sickness and in health.
It was hard to take, all this feigned normalcy. I wanted to cry. I wanted to wrap my arms around Diane’s thin shoulders and tell her I was so damn sorry. That none of this was fair.
Instead, I made sure my eyes stayed dry and my tone upbeat. I stayed until Diane’s lids started to droop and her evening nursearrived. I kissed her cheek and told her I loved her, promising to visit again soon.
Then Danny and I got out of the way and back in the car.
He made a few attempts at conversation, but I was too worn out by my own emotions to manage his. My heart hurt for Diane and the rest of the Jensens. Seeing her so weak had hit me hard. There was a difference between knowing someone was dying and then facing it head-on. I wanted to be out of this car and alone.
I thought I might have mumbled “Thanks for the ride,” but truthfully, I couldn’t remember. I got out of the car as soon as it pulled to a stop, eager for escape and solitude.
But Danny parked the car and turned it off, following me up the driveway to the front door.
“Thank you for coming tonight,” he said, footsteps hurrying to catch up. “It meant a lot.”
How many times had I heard his boots outside on this very pathway? It was a slap in the face to hear them now.
I stopped my frantic retreat and closed my eyes briefly before turning to face him. His mother was dying. I shouldn’t be so selfish and callous. “Of course. It was no trouble. I hate that this is happening to her—to all of you.”
Danny nodded, looking down at his shoes.
I reached for the door, hoping that was the end of it. I needed to get away. I couldn’t do this with him. Not right now, when my grief was so fresh, my emotions out of control and vibrating beneath my skin.
“So, how have you been?” he said quickly.
And when I turned back to face him, he was closer, at the bottom of the narrow porch stairs.
I didn’t get a chance to answer or sigh or scream or any of the other things I wanted to do because Danny placed a hand on the railing and said, “Because you look good, Bon. Have you lost weight? That stubborn ten pounds you were always trying to get rid of?”
Then he smiled, blue eyes crinkling at the corners.
And something in me cracked wide open.
“What?” I demanded, tone hard and incredulous.
I’d ignored the liberties he’d taken tonight. The kiss in front of his mother. The hand on my lower back, ushering me to and from the car. How he’d tried to take my hand on the drive home. But I couldn’t just sit back and take it anymore. I couldn’t keep the peace and my mouth shut at the same time. Danny was taking advantage of the situation, weaponizing my grief and his, too.
I could only do this if there were boundaries in place. Everything felt too tenuous, a delicate balance that kept me functioning as one half of a former whole.
He straightened, perhaps sensing imminent danger. “I just wanted to talk. Is that so bad?”
“What do you want me to say, Danny?”
Exasperated, he threw up his hands. “I don’t know. Tell me about your day or your students. Whatever you want.”
I stared at the man I thought I’d spend my life with, suddenly realizing how starved for attention I was by the end. A year ago—hell, six months ago—I would have done almost anything to have Danny show any sort of interest in my life. I would have lapped up any little crumb of affection. Taken what I could get and been grateful for it. Seen it as some sort of sign that things were turning around.
But now? Now, I was only angry.
“You don’t get to ask about my day or my job,” I gritted out bitterly. “That’s something reserved for boring married couples. Isn’t that right?”
