by Marie Force
Having random sex after being married to a woman you loved and lost to murder is about as horrible as it sounds. But I was glad to get that first time out of the way so I wouldn’t have to wonder just how horrible it would be. I’ve done it one other time, after a blind date with a friend of my sister-in-law’s who I actually liked and wanted to see again. But she said that as much as she liked me, too, she wasn’t up for dating a widower with a kid. It was all too much for her to take on.
Fair enough.
It is a lot. We’re a lot, Maeve and me and the baggage we bring with us. I’m glad I waited for someone like Roni, who fully understands what she’s getting. As do I. And what I’m getting is a beautiful, joyful, funny, sweet, sexy woman who is incredible with my daughter and who has a son I adore.
I’m working late on a Tuesday night in July, the week after we celebrated Roni’s thirtieth birthday with her family. Patrice dropped Maeve off with Roni for dinner and bath time while I work the phones trying to get the votes we need for Nick’s landmark gun-control legislation. Everyone knows we need to do something, but the bill has still been a tough sell, and we’re running out of time before the August recess to get something done. The more time that passes since the shooting last December in Des Moines, the less likely it is that we’ll be able to make it happen. People forget, they move on, but the lives of people touched by violence are forever changed.
This bill is personal to me—and to Nick due to the loss of his father-in-law to gun violence.
Speaking of the man himself, he pops into my office, looking the same as he did fifteen years ago when we met as young, fresh-faced congressional staffers just starting out in the political racket. His shirtsleeves are rolled up, his tie is loosened, and his top button was probably released hours ago.
I stand to greet him. “Mr. President.”
25
Derek
“Sit your ass down, Derek.”
“Yes, sir.” I hold back a laugh, knowing how he hates when his closest friends treat him like he’s the shit, even though he is.
“Where are we?”
“Three short in the house and two in the Senate.”
“Son of a bitch. Any cracks in the armor?”
“Possibly. I’m working it from a parental standpoint. Don’t they want their kids and grandkids to be safer? To be able to go to a meet-Santa event without having to worry about some mentally ill person showing up with an assault weapon?”
“I’ll never understand how everyone doesn’t want that.”
“It’s more about what their donors want, as you know.”
“Which is total bullshit.”
“We could talk all night on that topic.”
“Yeah.”
“I think we’ll get it done in the end. They’re just going to make us work for it.”
“You should go home to Maeve. It’s late.”
“She’s with Roni and Dylan, who are her favorite people in the world. Daddy has been completely replaced.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet, though.”
“It is.”
“You two seem great together. Are you, you know, making plans?”
“We’re talking about moving in together, even though we’re not yet officially an actual couple.”
His brow furrows with confusion. “You’re not?”
I shake my head. “She’s taking the year after losing Patrick, which I totally understand, but we’re committed to each other. It’s just all platonic thus far.”
“Ah, well, that’s interesting.”
“And frustrating.”
We share a laugh that reminds me of old times, before my wife was murdered, and he became the most important man on earth.
“But it’s all good. I certainly get where she’s coming from, and she’s worth waiting for.”
“Sam and I are so happy for both of you. We love the two of you together.”
“Thanks. It’s nice to feel good again after feeling like shit for so long. Maeve is just crazy about her and Dylan, and vice versa.” I fiddle with a pen as I try to push back the one thing that has me afraid of this new life I’m making with Roni.
“If you’re so happy, why are you doing that thing with your eyebrows that you do when something is bugging you?”
“Quit acting like you know me so well. Mr. President.”
His laughter rocks his entire body. “I do know you so well, so what gives?”
“I really love her. And Dylan.”
“I can see that. So what’s wrong?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“I worry about…” I force myself to look up at one of my best friends. “If something ever happened to her—”
“Stop, Derek. Don’t do that to yourself. What happened to Vic was outrageous and horrible, but you can’t go into this with Roni thinking something like that will happen again.”
“We both know all too well that it’s possible. Look at how her husband was killed minding his own business.”
“Still… I get how hard it is not to worry about the worst happening. Every day when I see Sam off to work, I fear I might never see her again.”
“How do you stand that?”
“Sometimes I can’t, but I tell myself the good times—and any time with her is the best I’ve ever spent with anyone—is worth the worry that comes with loving her. Love is worth the risk, Derek. You know that.”
“Yeah, I do, and I’m excited about the future with Roni. I’m trying not to let what happened in the past color the future. It’s just hard sometimes not to fear the worst.”
“I get it, but all we have is right now, and we have to live that to the fullest.”
“You’re right. That’s very true.”
“I hope you know I’m here if you ever need a friend.”
“I do. It helped to air it out. Thanks for listening.”
“Anytime. And now I must get upstairs to see my kids before they go to bed. You should go home and see yours, too. That’s an order,” he adds with a smile. “Tomorrow is another day.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. President.”
“Stuff it,” he says over his shoulder as he walks out of my office.
Since the president himself told me to go home, I’m outta here. On the drive home, I dart in and out of traffic, eager to see my little family after an endless day apart. I’m so lucky that Roni was willing to take Maeve for me after she and Dylan got home so I could work a little later tonight, but I try not to make a habit out of missing dinner with them. I like to think I’ve learned that lesson, but with this bill so close to having the support it needs, I wanted to give it a few more hours since members of Congress are easier to reach later in the day.
As I park a block from Roni’s apartment, I shut off the lingering concerns and stress of the workday to focus exclusively on the people I love the most in this world. We exchanged keys quite some time ago, so I let myself in and take the stairs two at a time. From outside her door, I can hear Dylan crying, Maeve chattering and the low tone of Roni’s voice as she holds court with both of them.
I’m smiling before I even put the key in the door. I do that a lot these days, and I have Roni to thank for giving me a Chapter 2 that far exceeds my wildest dreams—and I haven’t even kissed her yet. Not really.
I love that the physical side of our relationship has had nothing to do with getting us to where we are now. We were friends—best friends—long before we were anything else, and I have faith that foundation will stand strong against whatever may come our way in the future.
Maeve lets out a bloodcurdling scream when she sees me and comes running, launching herself into my arms and hugging me like she hasn’t seen me in weeks. She knows how to make her daddy’s day complete. I hug her and kiss her and swing her around, which makes her laugh hysterically.
“Careful, she had spaghetti for dinner, and that’ll be colorful coming back up.”
“Oh, Roni makes a g
ood point. How was your day, pumpkin?”
“Good.” She places her pudgy hands on my face and squeezes my cheeks before planting a noisy kiss on my lips. Could she be any cuter? In the next second, she’s squirming to get free of me so she can go play. I put her down, and she scampers off, stopping to kiss Dylan on the forehead before moving to the toys Roni got for her to have at her place.
I plop down on the sofa next to Roni. “Hi, honey, I’m home.”
Dylan immediately reaches for me, and I take him from her.
“It’s not fair that he likes you better than me. I gave birth to him.”
I love being Dylan’s favorite and happily snuggle the baby into my right arm before I lean in to kiss Roni chastely even as I yearn for so much more. “He loves you best because you’re running the milk bar. I can’t compete with that.”
“If that’s true, why does he always want you over me?”
“For the same reason Maeve wants you over me.”
“And what is that reason?”
“Our kids have good taste in people.”
Her smile lights up her gorgeous face and makes my life complete. There are times, such as right now, when things between us are so perfect that I wonder how I survived before she stalked her way into my life. I’ll be forever thankful to the passing resemblance she saw to her late husband at first, which she now says was wishful thinking. In reality, she doesn’t think I look anything like him, which was somewhat of a relief to hear.
“Are you hungry?” she asks.
“Starving.”
“I left the dinner you made in the oven for you,” she says with a cheeky grin that makes me laugh.
“You’re very good to me.”
“Likewise.”
“I hope you think so.”
“I really do.”
I have an idea right then… A big idea that takes root over the next few days and weeks, as we count down to October and the weekend away with the Wild Widows. We’re taking Dylan with us because she’s still breastfeeding him, but Maeve will be with my parents, and Roni and I will have an entire weekend to ourselves—and our closest friends. But we’ll have lots of time alone, too, and I plan to make the most of that time.
* * *
Roni
On October 10, I take the day off and stay home with Dylan. Everyone in my life asked me if I wanted to do something special today, but what I want to do is something I’ve put off so many times now, it’s almost comical.
I’m going to watch our wedding video, and I’m going to fully wallow in love and grief and every other emotion that the video is certain to stir up.
I asked Rebecca to send it to me a week ago, promising to call her if I wanted her to come watch it with me.
I don’t call her or anyone. I put Dylan down for his morning nap, make my cup of hot chocolate and cue up the video on my laptop, fully aware that I’m opening a healing wound and that it’s going to hurt like hell.
But a funny thing has happened over the last year… I’ve gotten used to Patrick being gone, and as I watch the video of our beautiful day, I see only the happiness, the joy, the excitement and the fun.
Patrick is beautiful, sweet, sentimental, emotional… The vows he spoke from his heart touch me all over again, reminding me that I was once deeply and perfectly loved. Watching his face, hearing his voice… It’s as overwhelming as I expected it to be, but I’m also able to see this video as yet another gift that will someday mean everything to my son.
I cry as I watch our first dance to “Yellow” by Coldplay, which we danced to the first time we ever went out and had been our song ever since. I haven’t allowed myself to listen to it this year, and hearing it now brings back a million beautiful memories.
I’ll never forget the toasts, the dancing, the sweetness of the day.
For a long time after the video ends, I lie on the sofa, looking up at the ceiling as the movie of the life Patrick and I had together runs through my mind. I hope I never forget the little things that made us who we were together. I want to someday share them with Dylan, which is why I’ve started writing stories in a journal that may turn into a book at some point.
Who knows? I’ve learned anything is possible and that I’m capable of things I never would’ve imagined I could do before this day last year.
I did it.
I survived a year as a widow.
I started a new job.
I made wonderful new friends and mourned the loss of others I thought would be part of my life forever.
I had a baby.
I fell in love again.
I did it all without Patrick, which was inconceivable this time last year.
A full year.
Derek is the only one who knows what I had planned for today, so I’m not surprised when he texts to check on me.
I’m okay. I watched it. I survived it, and I even enjoyed it a little.
Can I do anything for you?
Come see me later?
I’ll be there, sweetheart.
I’ve been told year two can be harder than year one, as unfathomable as that is. From what the others have told me, all the “firsts” are over, and gritty reality sets in. I wish I could avoid the pain I know is still to come, but if I avoid the pain, I’d also have to avoid the love, the joy, the good times sprinkled into the relentless grief.
So I carry on.
Year two, here we go.
26
Derek
The Wild Widows are in high spirits when we arrive at Bethany Beach, which is mostly deserted this time of year. That was kind of the point of doing this retreat in the fall. We wanted a peaceful time together without the crowds, and the price was right, too. Our group overtakes two huge houses with ten bedrooms each, located right next door to each other.
Gage brought enough wood to keep a bonfire going all weekend, and that’s where we find ourselves after dinner on Friday night.
Roni has Dylan bundled up in a cute fleece outfit, and he’s in good spirits as he’s passed around from one set of willing arms to another. He’s an easygoing kid with an affinity for people, which is why the others were fine with us bringing him to a no-kids event.
Roni quietly marked the one-year anniversary of Patrick’s passing last week and attended a Mass his parents had in his memory. We talked about whether I should go with her and decided I shouldn’t. There would be time enough for his family to get used to us together. The anniversary of Patrick’s death wasn’t the time. After a quiet few days immersed in memories and grief, she seemed to rebound this past week and was excited about the trip.
I’ve been thinking about this night and this weekend for weeks. However, now that go time is upon me, I’m frozen to my chair by the fire as Roni carries on an animated conversation with Joy, Kinsley, Lexi and Iris.
They put us in one of the first-floor suites, which I suspect was Iris’s doing. She’s the only one who knows this is the first time Roni and I will share a bed. The others think we’ve been getting busy for a while now, and we’ve never bothered to set that record straight. We’ve kept the inner workings of our relationship mostly to ourselves even as much of it has unfolded amid the Wild Widows.
Because it’s important to me that I have a chance to talk to her before bedtime, I reach over to nudge her arm.
She looks over at me, fresh-faced and gorgeous in the firelight.
As I gaze at the face that’s become so familiar and important to me, the anxiety inside me settles, and all I see is her, the answer to every prayer uttered deep in the pits of despair.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“I’m great. Can we take a walk? I want to talk to you.”
“Oh, sure. Let me just see if Iris will take Dylan.” She leans over Kinsley to speak to Iris. “Can I leave him with you for a minute?”
“Absolutely. He’s keeping me warm.”
“He’s a furnace,” Roni says, laughing as I help her up.
“Don’t get lost in the dune
s, you crazy kids,” Joy says.
“We’ll try not to.” I hold on to Roni’s hand as I lead her away from the group toward the water. The full moon lights up the beach and the water with a bright glow.
“Where’re we going?” she asks.
“Down here.” I lead the way to a place I scoped out earlier—out of the sight of our friends, but not too far from home base.
“What’s down here?”
“You’ll see.”
We walk to the spot where I stashed a blanket and two lanterns earlier. “Close your eyes.”
“What’s going on?”
“Just do what you’re told for once, Veronica.”
“Okay, Derek.”
Have I mentioned that I adore her? I spread the blanket and light the lanterns before I go back for her and lead her to the blanket. “Have a seat.”
“Can I look?”
“Yes.”
“Oh! Is this where you went before?”
“Maybe.”
“This is so nice!”
“I’m glad you like it. I wanted to talk to you when it was just the two of us, before we spend the night together for the first time.”
“Is everything okay?” she asks with a concerned expression.
I can’t have that. I kiss the wrinkle between her brows and the slight frown off her lips. “Everything is perfect since you found me and decided to stalk me.”
As always, she laughs and hides her face. “I’m never going to hear the end of that.”
“Never, ever. In case you haven’t realized it by now, finding you has saved my life—and Maeve’s. We both love you and Dylan so, so much.”
“We love you, too,” she says softly. “I never imagined it would be possible to love Patrick as much as I always will and to love someone else just as much. But I do. I love you like I loved him. If you told me a year and a half ago that I’d be sitting on a beach with a man who isn’t Patrick and professing my love to him, I would’ve thought you were crazy.” She uses the sleeve of her sweater to wipe away a tear. “But then, life happens, and you were there and so perfect and…”