Mitch woke early. So early it was still dark outside. He didn’t mind, because he’d actually slept. In the bed. For once, he felt human. He still wanted coffee. Still needed some. But he didn’t feel like it was going to take an entire pot to bring him to full consciousness.
He got out of bed, stretched, and dressed for a run. He’d have coffee and breakfast when he got back.
The house was dark, except for the soft light under the stove hood. He must have left it on when he’d made the hot milk and honey. He carried that cup to the kitchen sink but left the light on. Joyce would turn it off if she didn’t need it.
Earbuds in, podcast queued up, he left the house and walked down the driveway to the street, where he did a few stretches then broke into a gentle run. It was good to move his body. Good to breathe fresh air. He’d spent too much time on the couch lately. He needed this.
The sun rose as he ran, tinting everything with a soft pink light. Even the seagulls flying by looked pink. Jeanie would have loved such a morning.
As always, his heart ached with thoughts of her. He knew that nothing would ever take away that feeling. He would miss her until the day he died.
He also knew he wasn’t dealing with his grief in a very healthy way. He ought to care about that, but he didn’t.
What was the worst that could happen? He might shorten his own life? Didn’t seem like such a downside.
Maybe if Kyle was back in his life, things would be different, but he wasn’t, and they weren’t. Mitch had given up hope his son would respond to his most recent text. Or any text. He wasn’t a fool. He knew what the continuing silence meant. Kyle didn’t want his father in his life anymore.
He held Mitch responsible for his mother’s death.
Wasn’t true. But that didn’t matter. Kyle saw Mitch as part of what had happened to his mother and just like Mitch couldn’t get over Jeanie’s death, Kyle couldn’t stop blaming his father.
Life was hard and unfair and trying to pretend it was anything else was an idiot’s game.
He shook his head at the very idea. And while he loved Arlington and valued their friendship, the whole idea that someone else could help him was…a fairy tale.
Maybe in the made-up world of Hollywood, but not in real life. Not in Mitch’s life. No one could understand another person’s grief. It was too individual. Too personal. For someone to understand Mitch’s grief, they would have to understand his relationship with Jeanie.
And that defied description. Even for a man like him whose skillset was all about words. It would take years of writing, reams of paper, and vats of ink to scratch the surface of what she’d meant to him.
He rounded the bend and headed for home, resolving to listen to the podcast playing in his ears for the last half of his run.
And he did, until he slowed down to walk the length of his driveway. Lights were on in the house and the sky was bright with sun. The quiet stillness of predawn was gone. Several houses behind him, he could hear the churning of the trash truck coming to empty the bins neighbors had set out the night before.
Joyce had taken care of theirs. He should have done it. Trash was a man’s job. That was always his deal with Jeanie. He did whatever she needed him to do inside the house, but when it came to outside stuff, he handled it.
Trash, power-washing, mowing, minor repairs. In the early days of their marriage, he’d done it all and more. As he’d gotten more successful, he’d hired people to take care of a lot of those chores.
But taking out the trash was always his job.
He went inside. Joyce was in the dining nook right off the kitchen, using the table in there to fold clothes. “Morning.”
She had one of his T-shirts in her hands. She glanced over. “Good morning. Nice run?”
He nodded. “Fine, yes. Listen, about the trash—”
“I put it out last night.”
“I know you did. And thank you.”
Her brows went up as she went back to folding the shirt.
“But I should be doing that. It’s not your job.”
“Someone has to take it out.”
“They do. And that’s going to be me from now on.”
She pursed her lips. “You know what days pickup are?”
