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***
The first thing I do when I wake up the following morning is to check my phone for the latest news on the fires. Then I see a message from Brooke confirming the news that the winds have changed directions and the fire is under control.
Relief surges through me. I jump out of bed and hurry to Declan’s room to share the good news. The door is open, and when I peer in, the bed is made, and there’s a note on it.
Filled with curiosity, I go and pick up the note.
I have to dash to Santa Monica to sort out a few things. I’ll be back in the evening if that’s all right with you. Oh, and the fires are under control. Have a nice day.
Why does the impersonal nature of the note leave a bad taste in my mouth? It’s the kind of relationship that I want. Conflict tugs at me. I want the easy flirtatious relationship that Declan and I have.
I glance at it again and crumple it up. I can do it too. I can be distant and focused on what I want from this relationship. With that in mind, I march back to my room, make the bed, and prepare for the day. Twenty minutes later, I’m in my kitchen seated at the island, sipping deliciously hot coffee. The same routine I’ve followed for years. I should be focused on the day ahead, planning and thinking out my day.
Except I can’t. A longing so intense and powerful comes over me. I miss Declan. It’s so strong that it becomes physical pain. My kitchen feels like it’s lacking something or someone to be precise. A stab of fear sliced through me. I need to get control of my life back.
My life is just fine without a man. The only thing I need is a baby. That’s all. I’ll get all the love I need from my baby. I just need to keep myself busy until this wave of longing for Declan and things I can never have, go away.
Resolutely, I get up, rinse the cup in the sink, and leave for work. I love my job, and at times such as this, it becomes my sanctuary, and I can lose myself in it.
Brooke texts me at eleven to ask if I’m free for lunch, and we make a date to meet at our usual meeting place. A sandwich place on Oak Street.
Brooke is already there when I walk in. She stands when I approach, and we hug and kiss. She looks a little pale.
“You don’t look so hot,” I tell her as she sits back down. “I’ll go get our sandwiches and coffee. What do you want?”
“Just coffee, please,” she says, and when I raise an eyebrow, “okay then, bring me a ham sandwich, mother hen.”
The queue is long but moving fast, and a few minutes later, I’m carrying a tray to our table.
“Okay, dish out. What is it? You said that Jason is home safe, right? And I know the fires have just about died down.”
She nods as she sips her coffee. “I’m just being a baby. I don’t know why this time I felt so frightened. Almost as if I was sure I was going to lose him.” Tears fill her eyes.
I can’t imagine living with that kind of anxiety, and I find myself feeling grateful that Declan’s work is not dangerous. And then I remember that Declan is not my real husband. We are nothing to each other.
“I think that’s a natural worry,” I say, choosing my words carefully. It’s easy to talk and dish out advice when you’re not the one wearing those particular shoes.
“Yes, but this time it was like a premonition.” She sniffs.
“Maybe it’s the time of year.”
She stares at me uncomprehendingly. “What do you mean?”
“We lost Marvin and Ellie in May,” I say gently.
Her eyes widen, and she drops her cup back on the table with more force than necessary. Some coffee spills on the table. “Oh my God, how could I have forgotten? I’m such a bad sister and sister-in-law.”
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t say that, Brooke. You gave up your own life in Minnesota to move here permanently and give Liam a home. I wouldn’t call that selfish.”
Brooke was the kind of sister that I wanted to have. She would have done anything for her big brother, and she did. She gave her nephew home and made his world secure again. Liam was a well-adjusted little boy. Brooke and Jason had done a good job ensuring that he knew that his parents were in heaven.
“Yes, but to forget the anniversary of their death?” she says.
“It’s probably your brain’s way of giving you a break. Besides, it doesn’t matter if you forget. Your heart will let you know.”
