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I nod and blink back tears.
“How do you feel?”
“Scared. I mean, I’m not afraid of him – Adam, Adam Sullivan. We went to school together and ran into each other last weekend. He was always a nice kid. Anyway, he asked what I had been up to and wanted to catch up. At first, I almost said no. It felt wrong, like I was cheating on Josh, but then I remembered that Josh was gone. It was like that smack upside the head that leaves you a bit stunned and your head kinda foggy. Before I could talk myself out of it, I said yes.”
“And now you’re freaking out?” she asks with a smile.
“I’m totally and utterly in the freak-out mode.”
“That’s natural. Fear is logical when facing something like this. But you could either let fear run your life or overcome it. It takes a strong person to not let fear win, to stand above it, but when you do, the rewards are so much sweeter.”
Again, I nod my head in understanding, as it seems I’ve done so much since we started talking. She’s completely right, of course, but sometimes, something as powerful as fear, it’s hard not to slink back in the corner and let it control your life. I’ve been doing that for more than two years now, and I’m not sure I’m really strong enough to overcome something that has controlled me.
“Tonight, try not to get lost in your head – or more accurately, your memories. Tonight, is a stepping-stone. Think of it like trying on a pair of shoes. Give them a whirl, walk around in them for a bit, and test the feel. It doesn’t mean you have to buy the shoes.”
Her analogy makes me giggle. “Shoes?”
“It was the first thing that popped into my head,” she replies with a shrug and a smile. “But, Meghan,” she continues, reaching for my hand, “most importantly, have fun. You deserve it. And whether you want to think about it or not, you know, in your heart, Josh would want you to.”
The tears come unchecked, without care or worry that I’m in a public setting. Cindy squeezes my hand, but doesn’t say a word, just lets me shed a few tears. Tears of fear and understanding, because at the end of the day, I know she’s right. He would want me happy. That’s what our nightly visits mean, right? When he arrives in my dreams and his words from that night – that night everything changed – play over and over again. Like a record that keeps repeating, I hear his words, but am too afraid to really listen.
We sit together for the next hour, enjoying lunch and talking. She tells me about her sons, her first grandson, and what keeps her busy. She talks a bit more about dating, though doesn’t go into too many details. I want to ask her who this special man is that she keeps referring to with a smile on her face and light in her eyes, but I don’t feel right. I don’t want to overstep. It seems so personal.
So I sit quietly, and listen.
And enjoy our time together.
When it’s time to say farewell, Cindy gives me a hug and wishes me good luck tonight. We exchange cell phone numbers, and I promise to text her tomorrow with how it went. The thought of having someone – someone who has been in my shoes – actually makes me smile. A real smile, not one of those fake ones that I’ve been wearing for so long.
As we part ways on the sidewalk, I think about the one other person I want to share my news with. He’s the one man who has always been by my side, holding my hand while I cry. The other person who understands what I’m going through, maybe more so than anyone else I know.
My dad.
* * *
When I pull into the driveway, I see his car parked by the garage. He steps out of the garage, wiping something that looks like grease off his hand with a red shop towel. “Hey, baby girl, what brings you out here today?” he asks, a broad smile on his face.
“I wanted to see you,” I answer, walking up to him and placing a kiss on his scruffy face. “What are you doing?”
“Changing the oil in the mower. I didn’t get a chance to do it this spring, and since your grandparents were on their way to have a nap – which I’m pretty sure is code for something I don’t want to think about – I thought now was as good of a time as any.”
“Mind if I join you?” I ask, following him into the two-car detached garage.
“I’m always up for a visit,” he says, walking over to where the push mower is positioned on the workbench.
I watch him work for a few minutes, wondering if he knows that something’s on my mind and that’s why he’s not pushing me to talk. He seems to always be a bit more in-tune with me than with everyone else. Maybe that’s because he understands more than anyone else.
“So, I have something to tell you,” I start slowly, sitting down on one of the stools by his workbench.
“What’s up?” he asks, turning and giving me his undivided attention.
“Well, I have a thing tonight. I guess you might call it a date, even though I’m not one hundred percent sure it’s classified as one. One of my classmates from high school is home and asked me to dinner.” I’m nervous, I can tell. My hands wring together on my lap as I play with the ring that still adorns my left finger.
Dad offers me a warm smile. “That’s good, Meggy. Whether it’s a date or not, it’s good to go out and enjoy the company of friends.”
“I know,” I start, my eyes diverting to the floor. “It just seems weird, you know? Like I’m cheating or something.”
Dad exhales and comes to sit on the stool beside me. “Now that I understand completely. And to be honest, you never really get over the guilty feeling. The longer you live without someone, the more you start to accept that new life that they are no longer a part of. Part of me will always feel guilty that I’m living and your mother isn’t.”
