“I need to sit down.” She almost collapses in the chair. Crystal sits in front of her, and I take a seat beside her.
“Are you okay?” I can’t help but ask her. I love my cousin, but if this is going to push Samantha over the edge, we aren’t doing this fucking closure shit.
“No, actually, I’m not okay. I’m the opposite of okay,” she sighs. “I have to pick the girls up in an hour,” she starts and then puts her hands on the table as she wrings her fingers. My hands itch to reach over and squeeze them, to tell her it’s fine, it’s going to be okay, but I don’t know that.
“Did you know?” Crystal asks the one question everyone has been dying to ask; the question that could have changed everything.
Her head shakes from right to left. “Not a fucking clue.” She wipes a tear from her face. “How long were they together?” she asks, and it’s so fucking clear that we aren’t the only ones looking for answers. We aren’t the only ones questioning everything.
“They were married for the past six months and dated for about eighteen.” Crystal tells her the truth. It’s not about lying; it’s about fucking closure—for her and for us.
She nods her head. “I just thought we were going through a rough patch.” She doesn’t try to wipe away the tears this time. “I even felt him get distant, and we spoke about it.” She sniffles as we listen to her. “He said it was all in my head.”
“Do the kids know?” I have to ask. I have to know, but she shakes her head.
“My in-laws will not permit me to tell them anything except that he died in a car crash.” Her voice comes out in a whisper, and I have so many more questions to ask, but I don’t. I sit here the whole time watching her, looking at her, studying her.
“Your in-laws are not your boss!” Crystal shouts, and I see something flicker in Samantha’s eyes. A war is raging, but I’m not sure for what. And then she cuts me off at my knees.
“I’m a foster child. I grew up in the system. They are the only family I have, so they are not the boss of me, but they are my family.” She now sits up. “It is also none of your business how I handle my children.” Bull’s-eye. Don’t fuck with Mamma Bear.
I feel Crystal beside me about to freak out, so I place my hand on her arm as she says, “You’re right; they aren’t my business. You aren’t my business, but my cousin, his other wife, is my business.” I’m afraid it’s too late because her voice continues to rise. “You had your fucking closure; you got to say goodbye to him. She didn’t.” She glares at her, but Crystal is too far gone. “She had to sit in the middle of their fucking living room and read a fucking cease and desist letter, telling her that everything they had meant nothing. That is my fucking business.”
“You done?” Samantha asks, and Crystal nods her head. “You think I had closure because I got to see him in a box? He was dead. You think just because I got his body that I got closure? You think it was easy for me to be the obedient wife and mourn by his casket when all I wanted was to tell everyone what a fucking fake he was. If you think I got the better end of the deal, that is where you’re wrong.” She stands up now. “Your cousin gets to have the time to cry and ask questions while I have to hide my pain and all my tears because I have two girls who I have to live for. I have to cry into my pillow at night so they don’t get up and ask me, “Do you miss Daddy, Mommy?” when the whole time I don’t fucking miss him, I fucking loathe him. He made a mockery out of our wedding vows. He made me look like a fucking fool. Do I have his name, yeah, but I would give it back to him. The only thing I can’t hate him for is giving me my girls.” She swallows. “When I look in their eyes, that are just like their father’s, I can’t hate him. So don’t sit there and think you know anything, when you know nothing.”
“We are very sorry,” I say to her, and she puts her hand up to stop me as she turns and looks at me.
“Please spare me the fake sorrow. I don’t have the privilege to bash him and his ways because my in-laws hold him on a fucking shrine. I can’t look at them and tell them what a piece of trash their son was because then I will be left by myself. I play the wife role, and I take the well wishes of the people who come up to me, but at night, when all the lights are off and the kids are tucked into their bed, I’m left picking apart every single memory I have”—she raises her voice—“and it’s a lot more than eighteen months.”
“This was a mistake.” Crystal looks at me, and I couldn’t agree with her more. Coming here was a mistake; me going to the funeral was a bigger mistake.
“You came here to see who I was, and I get it. I wanted to do the same. I wanted to meet the woman who he felt he loved so much that he lied and married her. But I can’t because at the end of the day those girls need me.” I get up, nodding to her, as Crystal walks out of the house without another fucking word. I walk down the step to the car, buckle my seat belt, and look straight ahead as I drive away from the gray house.
“Well, that was a good idea,” I finally say when we are far enough away. “Great fucking plan that was.”
“She is more broken than Hailey is,” Crystal whispers. “Hailey can forget about him, but she will never be able to move on.”
“You going to tell her about this?” I ask her, and she nods. “When?”
“When she can handle it. Right now, the only thing she can handle is her bottle of wine. It’s got to fucking end.”
I agree with her. “Give her another week.” I don’t turn to look at her.
“Another week.” She throws her hands up. “I don’t give a shit what you say or that you’re older than I am and wiser. Next week, the tough fucking love starts.”
“Deal”—I look over at her—“and I won’t even give you a hard time about how you treated Samantha.” She rolls her eyes. “She isn’t the enemy.”
She doesn’t bother to answer me; instead, she looks out the window, lost in her own thoughts, leaving me to get lost in mine.
Samantha
Samantha
I listen for the front door to close, and then close my eyes until I hear the sound of two truck doors shut. Only when I hear the truck drive off do I open my eyes and look down at my trembling hands. I get up and walk to the sink, turning on the water and filling a glass. I drink a couple of sips and then count to ten. My hands never stop shaking. I look out at the swing set in the backyard and see one of the swings moving slowly with the breeze. The images of Eric looking back at me while he built it. The girls running around him the whole time. The glass in my hand falls to the sink, shattering.
“I hate you.” I look around the kitchen, seeing his picture on the fridge along with the kids’ drawings. I pull it off the fridge and trace his face with my finger. “I fucking hate you,” I whisper to him, hoping that he hears me. Hoping that somewhere, wherever he is, he knows how much I hate him.
The front door opens, and I hear Judy. “Hello!” she shouts, walking into the kitchen. “Oh, good, you’re here.” I look up at her. “I thought we could have dinner here tonight.” I nod my head, putting the picture back on the fridge. It’s been three weeks, and in that time, my in-laws have never left my side. Neither have Ethan or Elliot.
“That sounds like a plan.” I smile at her, the smile forced this time as Crystal’s words linger in my mind. “I have to get the girls soon. Do you need me to help you cook?” I know right away the answer to that is no; my mother-in-law is hands down one of the best cooks and people I know.
“You go sit and rest.” She smiles at me as she sets down the bags. “Relax. I have this covered.” I just nod at her, then walk upstairs to my bedroom. Looking around, I see little touches of Eric. His shirt still hangs on the chair where he left it; the change from his pocket on his bedside table. I walk to the chair and pick up the shirt, smelling it. His scent still lingers a bit. Did he ever wear this shirt with her? Did he ever hug her in this shirt? Did he tell her he loved her while wearing this shirt that the kids and I bought him for his birthday? Did she unbutton it and slip it off his
shoulders?
I take the shirt, wrap it in a ball around my hand, and then throw it in the trash. One down, a million more memories to erase. I turn to walk back downstairs. “Is everyone coming over tonight?” I ask as my mother-in-law looks up from cutting the chicken.
“Yes, I told them to be here at six,” she says as I nod my head.
“Good,” I say to her as I run through the conversation that will happen tonight. “I’ll go get the kids,” I tell her, walking out and making my way to the bus stop. Sitting on the sidewalk, I bring my knees to my chest and rest my head on them. He never picked the kids up at the bus stop, even when he was home. I get up when I see the yellow school bus coming down the road, and I smile when I see Daisy hop down the last step. “Hello, lovebug.” I bend to kiss her, then stand, looking for Lizzie, who comes down the step wearing a sad little smile. “Hey there.” I smile.
“Hey.” She turns, heading to the house.
“Is everything okay?” I ask her, holding Daisy’s hand.
“Yeah, Mom,” she says. I know something is wrong, but I just let it go. We all grieve in different ways, and the only one who really doesn’t understand is Daisy, who just this morning wanted to know when Daddy would be home to put her star decals on her ceiling.
“Grandma is at our house cooking,” I tell them as we walk ever so slowly home. “How about we have a girls’ weekend on Saturday and Sunday?” I ask them, and they both look up at me. “What do you say? Pizza, nail painting, Disney movies, and Chinese food with only us girls?”
They both smile, and I see my Lizzie’s eyes light up. “So Friday, as soon as the bus drops you off, it’s on.” They are all smiles when we walk into the house, and Judy is there to greet us.
“There are my grandbabies.” She holds out her arms so they can give her a hug. Lizzie gives her a side hug, quickly patting her shoulder, while Daisy puts
her small arms around her waist.
“We are having a girls’ night on Friday,” she tells her. “So you and Grandpa can’t come.”
“But I’m a girl,” my mother-in-law jokes with her, “so I can, but Grandpa can’t.”
Daisy shakes her head. “Nope, just the three girls,” she says, walking around her to put her lunch bag on the counter.
“Please start your homework,” I tell her as she grabs her green plastic binder and brings it to me. “Let’s see what you have.” I open it, checking the things that she needs to do while I get her situated. I look over and see that Lizzie has retreated to her room. I make a note to check on her later when it’s just us.
For the next three hours, they do their homework, I prepare lunches for the next day, and my mother-in-law finally finishes dinner. Lizzie and I set the table, each of us helping the other. “Thank you, baby girl.” I kiss her head while she wraps her hands around my waist.
Adrian, Ethan, and Elliot all walk in at the same time. Elliot goes right upstairs to take a shower while the other two grab a beer and sit on the couch in the family room to watch the news. When Elliot comes back down fifteen minutes later, he kisses the girls hello, squeezes my shoulder, and then goes to kiss his mother hello.
We sit down at the table, holding hands all around as we say grace. The conversation is about everyone’s day. I pick at the food on my plate more than I eat. Looking over at Lizzie, I see she is doing the same thing. “Eat,” I tell her, and she just shrugs her shoulder.
“I’m not very hungry,” she says, not looking up. Instead, she’s scooting things around on her plate to make it look like she’s eaten, but I know for a fact she’s only taken two bites.
“Are you sick?” Judy asks, putting a hand to her forehead. “She isn’t warm.”
“I’m just not hungry, Grandma,” she says, then asks to be excused.
“I have homework to do,” she says, taking her plate to the sink. I watch her walk upstairs, then look at Elliot who just nods at me.
“I’m finished too,” Daisy says, slipping out of her chair and carrying her plate to the sink. “Can I go play?” she asks, and I just nod.
“So,” Adrian starts, “the lawyer called me today and let me know the will is ready to be read. Sammie, we need to go see him on Friday,” he says, and I look up at him.
“Why didn’t he call me?” I ask, surprised.
“I didn’t want you bothered with any of this. You have enough to worry about with the kids.” He smiles at me.
“I know that you guys are trying to help,” I say, putting my fork down and pushing the plate away from me, “but we need to go back to our normal.”
I look around the table, seeing Ethan look down and then up. “Ethan, you used to come for dinner once a week max.”
“But, I-” he tries to say, but I put my hand up.
“It’s fine.” I smile at him. “It’s more than fine.”
“And you”—I point at Elliot—“you sleep here tonight, but tomorrow, go back to your apartment.”
“You kicking me out of the house?” Elliot smirks at me.
“Yes,” I say. “Plus, I think your girlfriend is one step away from leaving you.”
“Fuck her,” my father-in-law says, and my head snaps back in shock. “Family comes before everything.”
“Yeah, Dad,” Elliot says as I tilt my head, looking at him as he looks down at his hands.
“No,” I say a little louder. “Everyone needs to start living their own lives, and we need to start living our new one.”
“If Eric was here,” my mother-in-law starts to say, but Adrian puts a hand on hers.
“If he was here, we would have dinner with you guys on Sunday like we did every single week,” I start saying, “but he isn’t here. He’s gone.”
“Sam,” Ethan starts, “we just want to be here for you and the girls.”
“And I love you guys for it, but”—I swallow—“what if he didn’t want you guys here?” The tear rolls down my cheek so fast I can’t stop it. “What if I wasn’t the one he wanted you guys to console?”
Adrian smacks the table, some of the forks clattering on the plates. “You are the one he was married to,” he starts, “and that is all that matters. That other woman is a disgrace to her family by living with a married man.”
I bite my lower lip. “She didn’t know,” I whisper. “From what they told me, she had no idea.”
“And who told you this?” he asks, his eyes going small as he glares at me.
“Well, her cousin did.” I don’t bring up Blake. I don’t bring up that they sat at this exact table this afternoon as we shared stories.
“Bunch of fucking liars,” he says, pushing away from the table. “They better stay where the fuck they are, and if that bitch thinks she is going to get a cent of his life insurance policy, then she is so mistaken. I stopped her once, and I’ll do it again.”
“You stopped her?” I ask, confused by what he just said.
“She tried to claim his life insurance policy a week after he died.”
“What policy?” I ask, looking around the table. None of the three make eye contact with me. “Tell me. You guys obviously know, so ...”
Elliot starts first. “Sam, my father took care of it. What difference does it make?”
I push back from the table, my heart beating a mile a minute. “It makes a huge fucking difference. Tell me.” I cross my arms over my chest.
Ethan looks at Elliot, who looks at his father, who finally says something. “They had a life insurance policy together, and the money-hungry woman tried to cash it in. Luckily, we had the lawyer prepared for it, and they blocked her. They also froze their joint account. The money should be in your account as soon as we have everything squared away.”
“Joint account?” I whisper, but Adrian continues.
“Lucky for that woman, the house was in her name, or else I would have put it into foreclosure, and she could have ended up in the middle of the street.”
“He loved her,” I tell them, and he looks at me. “Why are we blaming
her?”
“If it wasn’t for her, Eric would have never ...” Judy starts.
“Oh, please,” I say, rolling my eyes. “He is the only one to blame for this,” I finally say, and it feels good!
“Don’t say that,” Judy says with a tear rolling down her cheek. “H-he just had a lapse in judgment.”
I laugh now. “Yes, well, marrying another woman, and living with her while he pretended he was an orphan is definitely a lapse in judgment.”
“Sam,” Ethan says quietly.
“Maybe if you were a proper wife, he wouldn’t have gone out looking for more,” Adrian says, and my head snaps back as if he just slapped me in the face. The gasp of shock from everyone around the table stops him from talking.
My heart starts to pound as my neck gets hot. I look down at my hands and then look up, the tears not stopping as they fall onto the table. “I guess you’re right on that; if I was half the woman, maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have wanted anyone else,” I say, turning to walk out of the room. I expect one of them to call out to me. I expect Judy to come and hold me and tell me he’s just being a jerk. I expect Elliot to tell his father to shut up and that was uncalled for. I expect that and so much more from a family who cares and loves me just like their own, but what I get is nothing. I get no one rushing after me. I get no one coming to hold me as I cry in the middle of my bed. I get no one knocking on the door. I. Get. Nothing.
The knock on the door never comes, but what does come is Lizzie. She lies down in front of me on the bed, her eyes taking me in. “It’s okay, Mom,” she tells me as she rubs my face. “We have each other.”
My hand cups Lizzie’s face as I look at my little girl who grew up overnight. “That is all we need,” I whisper to her. I listen for the voices downstairs. I listen to the door open and close. I listen to the plates being washed and put away. I listen to Elliot telling Daisy that it’s bath time. I listen to all that while I look out the window and Lizzie falls asleep in front of me. She cried so silently beside me I didn’t even notice, but her tears wet the pillowcase.
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