“You weren’t taking her calls or texts, so I had to.” Now, he looks away again. “She told me about your last phone call. I filled her in on things.”
“What things?”
He shrugs. “How you’re doing incredibly well.” Paul takes a few paces before he sits down on the steps and watches his team—my friends—set up the tables and unload and assemble everything. “I know that you told her about all the brunches, and it’s clear that she blew you off. But I set her straight, Callie. She gets how much they mean now. Then, I showed her pictures of the house, ones I knew you didn’t want her to see because you were doing a ton more than she’d asked for. I also told her to finally stop being selfish and to think about you for once.”
“Paul…”
“To let you have something of your own,” he continues. “To let you shine. And I told her to finally grieve for Mike, which she hasn’t done. I cannot stand watching you suffer because of her own bullshit. Her husband died. It happens, and it’s brutal, and it’s awful. But she should have stepped up for her kids.” He walks the perimeter of the house under the guise of checking work. “But you should give her a break. She lost the love of her life.”
He’s right. I feel like a complete asshole because I’ve never acknowledged what Paul must have gone through. Finding me and my dad. He was the first person on the scene, and I’ve avoided thinking about how he is probably as traumatized—if not more so—as I am. Because he found a dead friend and an evidently adored kid, and he was the one who had to get what was left of my family through it because we were all too shocked and ruined to do anything.
Paul’s anger with my mom is something that I can relate to. But his sympathy for her is something I should learn to embrace.
Paul rounds the house and brushes some leaves off the back deck. “Cindy gets it now. She getsyou. So, take her goddamn calls and fix this shit between you two.”
His words this morning floor me, and I nod. “Okay, I will.” And I mean it.
When our group is gathered around the glowing fire later that night and the couples are all snuggled up, I cannot help but notice how alone Paul is.
“He doesn’t have a girlfriend that we don’t know about, does he?” I whisper to Danny.
“No, he doesn’t. He had one a few years ago, but I haven’t heard a thing about anyone else since.”
“It’s too bad. He’s so…solid.”
“I’ve been keeping an eye out for him, but none of us have found the right match. At least, not yet.”
“Something to work on?” I suggest.
“Agreed.”
As I look at the group, I am taken aback. Such an unexpected pivot in my life and one I will never stop being thankful for.
The flames from the firepit dance in front of me, their rich hues vibrant and alive, and I still cannot believe that my mother made this happen. After all of the tension between us, she still wanted me to have something as beautiful as this.
For the first time in my life, I miss her. I miss my mom.
