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“Don’t let her get to you, Kee. Whatever she said, ignore it.”
“She didn’t really say anything, other than dropping a few hints that I don’t spend enough time focusing on her son.”
“Because you’ve got a daughter and a life that needs to move forward,” Ellie growls in my defense. “I’m so sick of her making you feel bad, Kee. That stupid woman needs a slap in the face.”
“I just feel so guilty,” I admit. “You’re right. My life is moving on whether I like it or not, but it’s so hard to see him like that. And I think and do things that make me feel like I’m a horrible person.”
“Like what?” she challenges.
“Like today when I called the mechanic. He flirted with me and I liked it,” I mumble.
“Kee, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s been three years, hon. How long are you expected to put everything on hold?” She hesitates before adding, “Would Aiden want that?”
No. We’d had conversations before about shit like this. I know he’d want me to move on, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
“It’s hard because he’s still here. I see him lying in that bed and I imagine how different our life would’ve been—”
“You can’t do that, Kee,” Elli cuts in, her eyes full of concern. “And you need to stop blaming yourself for him going to work that day. The Aiden you fell in love with is gone. He died the day of that accident. You’re sticking by him out of guilt and what you feel like you owe to him. But he wouldn’t want that. You know he wouldn’t want that.”
“I know,” I say, my voice quiet. “I just don’t know how to move on. I don’t know if I can.”
“You need to. For Tilly’s sake and your own, you need to.”
I pick up Tilly from school. She jumps into the car, looking happier than she has in days. I wait until she’s buckled up and then start the car. She turns to me, a big grin on her face.
“Someone’s in a good mood,” I tease her, and she giggles.
“’Cause it’s Monday and schools over,” she explains. “And ’cause I get to see Gran and Pops.”
“You sure you’ve been good enough?” I say, my mouth tugging into a smile.
“I have, Mommy,” she insists, her eyes wide. “And I made Gran a card in class.” She reaches into her backpack and pulls out a drawing.
I have no idea what it’s supposed to be, but I drop my mouth open and gasp. “Till, she’ll love it. You’re such a talented little girl, aren’t you?”
She giggles and places the card in her lap. I listen to her sing to herself as we drive through the backstreets toward Heather and Jim’s house. I love how excited she is to see Aiden’s parents, and I’d never interfere with that, but I can’t help but ponder over how our perceptions of the afternoons we go to visit her grandparents are so different.
For her, it’s a treat that she looks forward to all week. For me, it’s a punishment worse than hell. Okay, maybe a little dramatic, but the anxiety I feel about seeing Heather usually begins three days before and peaks when I pick Tilly up from school. It’s always the same story: while they adore Tilly, I get inundated with questions and accusations on how I’m raising my daughter. Nothing I do is ever good enough. We haven’t gotten along since the accident.
But, they dote on Tilly and seeing them gives her some sort of connection to her dad that I can’t offer her. I love nothing more than seeing Tilly happy.
At least tonight we weren’t staying for dinner because they have a function to attend.
That’s a small win for me.
We pull up in the driveway of their sprawling property. I turn off the ignition, laughing as Tilly jumps up and down in the seat next to me. The second I open my door, she’s out of the car and halfway up the path to the front door. I rush to catch up with her, wrapping my arms around her on the top step.
“You little monkey,” I say.
She squeals as I tickle her, jumping around in my arms.
Heather opens the door and Tilly’s face lights up.
“Gran!” She throws her arms around Heather, who laughs and hugs her back.
“There’s my little princess. Look how tall you’re getting! You’ll be taller than your pop soon,” she exclaims.
I snort. Unlikely, considering Jim towers to about six-four. My snort reminds her of my presence. She gives me a tight smile.
