AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But she promised herself not to be petty.
There was a creak on the staircase. Violet raised her chin and watched as Larry, a more athletic Larry with brighter teeth—descended. He wore a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, and if she wasn’t mistaken, she was pretty sure there was foundation on a cut on his chin. But it was still her husband. It was still the same old Larry she’d always known.
Even the wedding band on his fourth finger looked similar to the one he’d worn for her.
Larry extended his arms. His eyes were filled with questions. Should they hug? Violet crossed her arms in response. There was no reason they needed to parade down old territory. Too much had happened.
“It’s really good to see you,” Larry said finally, letting his arms fall. “You look amazing.”
Violet knew that the sea air of Nantucket had done her some good. She was tanner, too. And the long walks on the beach, the grandmother kisses, and Greta’s food had done wonders. Even thinking of it now, she panged with homesickness for her new life.
“So do you,” Violet said, as her throat filled with sorrow.
Larry spread his fingers through his hair. He looked nervous, like a kid. And then, he gestured toward the dining room and suggested they sit down. Violet followed him in to find a FOR SALE sign on the tabletop. She was grateful her friend had told her about the sale. She could play it cool now.
“I wanted to tell you in person that we’re moving to Florida,” Larry said.
“I see.” Violet sat at the dining room table, remembering it was an antique from her mother’s side of the family. Could she have it shipped to Nantucket? She imagined Adam eating roast beef sandwiches there, listening as Violet told him stories about his father.
“Of course, fifty percent of the sale will go to you,” Larry said.
Violet nodded. She could use that to buy a small house in Nantucket or an apartment in the Historic District. An apartment suited her just fine. She’d never cared for lawn maintenance, anyway.
Larry still seemed flustered, probably because she still hadn’t said much. So he added, “Maybe you heard. We got married.”
Violet was surprised at how little that statement impacted her. She smiled. “I’m happy you’re happy.”
Larry stuttered. “Thank you. Yeah. I don’t know. I feel like the past year, I’ve just been reeling. Wandering through my life. Grieving.” He finally sat across from her and crossed his hands over the table. He looked reflective and old. Violet thought he looked more like his father than he ever had before.
“Violet, I should have been there for you,” Larry blurted. “Neither of us should have had to carry that alone. And instead, I burrowed myself away. I hate myself for that.”
Larry sniffled and went on. “If you’re up for it, I’d love to talk on the phone sometimes,” he said. “I want to talk about Dean with the only other person who really knows him. I want to share memories. I don’t want to think he’s just gone like that.” He snapped his fingers.
“That’s all I want, too.” Violet was surprised at how open Larry was being. He’d had nearly a year to think about this, she supposed.
And they’d both made their way to a similar conclusion.
All they wanted was to continue loving their son. And they had to do that together if only to ensure the love remained strong and not forgotten.
Soon, Violet revealed the newest photos of baby Adam and watched as Larry melted into himself with gladness.
“He’s got that dimple Dean used to have!” he cried.
Violet dried her eyes with her sleeve, remembering Larry cradling Dean in the living room, both of them asleep as a sporting event raged on the television. “You have to come out and see him,” she said. “He’s just as much your grandson as he is mine.”
Larry passed the phone across the table and tilted his head. “Does that mean you’re going back to Nantucket?”
Violet raised her eyebrows. “I think so.”
Violet gave a brief description of the previous few months—of her frazzled nature, of driving Anna crazy, of finding a rhythm, of meeting a new friend named Smith.
“He never had anyone to worry about him,” Violet said softly, thinking again of Smith’s soft, wounded gaze. “Can you imagine what that would be like?”
Larry shook his head. “All my mother ever did was worry about where I was and what I would be.”
“Mine, too. And we did the same for Dean.”
Larry extended his legs beneath the table, and his ankles popped and creaked, just as they’d always done. Violet suppressed a smile. She imagined herself and Larry sitting down for dinner in ten or twenty years, talking about the good old times, their bones creaking. She imagined the pain of losing Dean to be a far-off star, ever-present, shining over them.
