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I tilted my head, assessing her as I brought the beer to my mouth again. I didn’t understand how she could be so perfectly composed when she mentioned him. Me? Every muscle in my body tensed and my gut coiled in pain every time I heard his name. It had been two years since his death, and the visceral reaction I experienced when thinking about or talking about him had barely faded.
The question slipped from my mouth before I could consider my words. “How do you do that?”
Her brow creased. “Do what?”
I shook my head. Why the fuck did I even say that? And how did I explain what I meant?
“You know…” I brushed my hair back from my forehead. “Talk about him so easily without feeling sad or angry. Or both.”
“I do feel those things sometimes.” She shrugged. “But Levi wouldn’t want me to be sad all the time. We used to talk about that stuff. He would make me promise to live and be happy. Find someone else.” She glanced down at her wineglass and swallowed audibly before focusing on me again. “He brought it up again before he left that last time. Part of me can’t help but wonder if he knew he wouldn’t be coming home. If he had some kind of sense that the end was near for him. But then I think that’s ridiculous, right? No one knows when they’re going to die.”
I’d seen some strange things when it came to death. I wouldn’t scare her with the details, but her openness did make me want to confess that I had been there. I wanted to tell her he was eerily calm while we worked to save him. It wasn’t something I noticed at the time. Only later, when I couldn’t stop replaying those moments in my head. He knew he was dying. His demeanor would have given it away had I been paying attention. Guilt stabbed at my gut. He should be here, in his kitchen with his beautiful wife. Not me. And it was my fault he wasn’t.
Across from me, Tina’s eyes were wide as she searched my face.
A war raged inside me as I grappled with how to put into words all the things I needed to say.
“Mom?”
We both startled as Callie entered the kitchen, yawning and rubbing her eyes.
A mixture of relief and disappointment washed over me in that moment. Relief that I didn’t have to divulge my secret, but at the same time, I was hit with disappointment that the opportunity to get it off my chesthad passed.
“It’s late, baby.” She stepped toward her daughter, swiping the hair off her forehead. “You should go back to bed.”
“Can I take a shower first?” She rubbed her cheek and looked at her fingers. “The face paint is itchy.”
“Yeah, of course. Do you want me to spray your pillows with lavender?”
“Yes, please, and can I get a glass of water?”
“Go get in the shower. I’ll put the water in your room and spray your pillows.”
Callie nodded and considered me for a long, quiet moment.
I took one final swig of my beer and stood. There was no point in telling Tina what I experienced that day. It would only hurt her. Why I’d thought it was a good idea was beyond me. Callie’s interruption was a sign that I wasn’t meant to.
“I better get going. It’s late.” I handed Tina the empty can of beer.
A slight gasp pulled my attention to the small person in the room with us.
Callie was zeroed in on the can, her face red. She shot a glare at her mom and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why is he drinking Dad’s beer?”
With a sigh, Tina took the can from me. She gave it a quick rinse and dropped it into the recycling can. “It’s not. It’s mine.”
“No, that’s the kind only Dad drank.”
“Callie, I drink it too.”
“Whatever.” She whipped around and stomped to the other end of the house.
I tracked Tina’s movements as she got a glass out and filled it with water. The relaxed, carefree woman from a few moments ago was gone. If I didn’t know her so well, I’d probably think she was unfazed. Her shoulders were hunched, but other than that, she hid her distress well. Just like that day on the dockwhen she seemed as cool as a cucumber except for the slight shake of her hand as she walked away from me. Pride enveloped me as I continued to observe her movements. This beautifully strong woman who always smiled, saw the glass as half full, and approached everything with a calm I wished I possessed.
I stepped up behind her and squeezed her shoulders. She relaxed under my touch, and I smiled, loving that I could cause that reaction.
“I’ll text you tomorrow.” I dipped low and placed a kiss on her cheek. Then I grabbed my phone from the table and headed for the front door.
Her voice stopped me before I could reach for the handle.
