One More Thing

by Lilliana Anderson

  “How is my little golden boy?”

  “Good.” He twisted in my arms and looked inside the box I was filling with various items from Tyler’s drawers. “What’s this stuff?”

  “Things from your daddy’s drawers. There’s some key rings from the places he went. These are the gloves he wore when he went dirt biking.”

  “Dirt biking?” Ty asked, picking up the gloves and sliding his little hand inside, wriggling his fingers out of the holes. “What’s that?”

  “Kind of like motorbikes that you can drive through dirt and mud. They go over little hills and jump in the air.”

  “My daddy did that?”

  “Your daddy did a lot of things,” I told him, pressing a kiss to his head.

  “Look, Nanny,” Ty said, showing her his fingers wriggling in the gloves. He giggled and she smiled at him. Then she crouched down in front of me and placed her hands on either side of the box.

  “These need to stay here. Everything there is to know about Tyler is in this room. You can’t just pack him away and deprive your son of the chance to get to know his father.”

  She lifted the box and put it on top of the drawers I’d been emptying.

  My eyes went wide. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

  “Then what were you doing?” she snapped, putting things back where they were, obviously distressed that I’d moved them.

  “I was only going to put them in boxes, then…maybe put them in storage. I don’t know. I just needed to do something. I can’t keep this shrine to him in my house, it’s not healthy.”

  “His house,” she spat at me. “His apartment. This is only yours because it was his first and I allowed it.”

  “Susan,” I gasped, taken aback by her reaction. We’d been through so much together over the years, that her anger…her venom surprised me.

  “Just leave. I need to fix this,” she said, her hands shaking.

  She was out of line. It was my home. It was my name on the title. I wanted to tell her that. I wanted to snap back and set her mind straight. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to fight with her about her son—a son she was so obviously still grieving. Yes, he was my husband. Yes, it was my apartment. But I was finding that better place we’d talked about a couple of months before. For once, my emotions weren’t as torn up and raw. Susan was still caught in the thick of it. Despite being offended, I could understand that.

  After a calming breath, I stood up and put my hands on Ty’s shoulders. “Let’s go and see if there’s something cool on TV,” I told him, guiding him out of the room so he didn’t have to witness the breakdown I could see coming.

  “What’s wrong with Nanny? Is she sad?” he asked when I closed the door.

  “She’s OK, buddy. She just needs a minute. Your daddy was her son and she loved him very much. I probably should have let her know that I wanted to pack Daddy’s things away.”

  “Why were you packing them away?”

  “Because he doesn’t need them anymore.”

  “Oh. OK. Can we watch Power Rangers?”

  “Can I speak with you?” Susan stood at the door of Tyler’s bedroom, her eyes red-rimmed and glassy.

  “Of course,” I said softly, giving Ty a kiss on the head and asking him to be good and keep watching TV. Then I gestured for Susan to follow me into the garden. It provided us with a little privacy but I was still able to keep an eye on Ty.

  “I’ve put everything back where it was,” she said the moment I slid the glass door closed.

  “OK.” I folded my arms across my chest protectively.

  “I don’t understand why you suddenly want to pack everything away.”

  “Because it’s been almost five years since he died. I just thought it was time. And I apologise for not talking to you about it first. That was selfish of me. He was your son. I understand how much of a loss that has been for you.”

  “No. You don’t. You still have your son. You lost a husband, Sarah. That hurts but you can fall in love, you can marry again. Losing a child…” Her voice cracked. “I can’t just replace him.”

  “I don’t want to replace him either.” I tried to keep my voice even. Her words were hurting me but I still didn’t want to fight. This wasn’t a competition about who felt Tyler’s loss the most because there were no winners there.

  “That’s not how Ty tells it. He’s been talking about a man you’ve been seeing. Jude. Isn’t that the man you punched in the nose?”

  “Yes.” I looked down at my feet. I’d never considered that Ty would tell Susan about the time we’d spent with Jude. It wasn’t that Jude was some big secret, I simply hadn’t been telegraphing his involvement. I hadn’t been certain he’d become a part of us until last night.

  “So, you’ve met some new man and all of a sudden you’ve stopped grieving my son? You want to pack him away? Forget he existed?” Her voice pitched. I could see her distress; her emotions were still so raw. It hurt my heart, and because I’d been feeling like that too, I saw the same emotions I’d experienced mirrored in her eyes. But now that the anguished pain had lessened, I didn’t want it back, and that in turn made me feel guilty. The whole situation felt impossible.

  “No, Susan. It’s just been five years. I thought it was time.” My voice grew small, I felt like a child who had overstepped the mark and was getting slapped on the hand as a result.

  “You thought. He was my son, Sarah. Mine. I knew what was going to happen to him long before you turned his head and took the last of everything he had.”

  I sucked in my breath, her words slapping into me. “Is that how you really feel?” My voice was hoarse with emotion, my eyes burning with angry tears.

  “What I feel right now is hurt and disappointed. I never expected this from you.”

  My mouth opened then closed again. I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t expected this from her either.

  “I’ll see myself out,” she said, turning on her heel and heading through the house. She stopped and hugged Ty on her way out. He seemed none the wiser and bounced twice on the couch before looking my way with a cheeky smile on his face. I smiled back, holding in my tears.

  I never thought someone—especially Susan—would be angry at me for wanting to move forward. I understood she was still hurting. I knew she’d never get her son back. But I wasn’t the one who took him from her. He made a choice. He fought bravely and when it got too hard, he made the choice. We made that choice together. It was a decision she was involved in and supported. It stung that she’d twisted the events and made me out to be some kind of leech who stole Tyler’s final months and then got rich off everything he owned. That wasn’t the case at all. I was upset she had that opinion of me, devastated that it came to light the moment it looked like I might find happiness again.

  Perhaps that was another part of the grieving process I wasn’t aware of. Bitterness. It was clear there were people who didn’t want you to stop grieving, people who would never let go of the sadness and would fight against you letting go of yours. It didn’t seem fair, and it felt even worse.

  Where in the world did I go from here?

  13

  Sunday, 11th December 2016

  I MANAGED TO hold it together until Ty went to bed; after that, I went into Tyler’s room and sat on the bed, tears flowing while I looked around at all his things put back in their rightful places. I cried because I missed him. I cried because the depth of my love for him was questioned. I cried because I felt stuck.

  I didn’t want to keep feeling this way. I didn’t want to be so hollow and lonely in my heart anymore.

  At some point during the whole feeling sorry for myself event, I must have cried myself to sleep, because I awoke to a dark room after a lucid dream, a memory of one of the last conversations I had with him.

  *

  “This world is going to be shit without you, Tyler.”

  “Don’t talk like that, sweetheart,” he said slowly. “You have so long ahead of you, and you have to live i
t even better than before. You have to go out and have adventures and fall in love again and have kids so you can live forever.”

  “I don’t want any of that without you, Tyler. I want to stay right here, and I want you to haunt me and live with me forever as a ghost.”

  “Like that movie with Demi Moore?”

  “Yes,” I said. “But you can’t go, you have to stay with me.”

  “Only if you take up pottery and invite Whoopi Goldberg around so we can do it together,” he joked, and somehow, I laughed.

  “How can you make a joke about this? You promised to always come back to me. You have to haunt me.”

  “OK, sweetheart. I promise you that I’ll watch over you when I’m gone. But, you have to promise that you’ll go out in that world and live again. I don’t want you to mourn me forever.”

  “I can’t make that promise,” I whispered.

  “Then at least promise that you’ll try.”

  *

  I had promised. The first year was a total blank. During the first few months when I spent every day in the pits of despair, I found out I was pregnant. Part of me felt wretched, tormented that Tyler would never know his child. The other part was cheerlessly overjoyed that I would have a part of Tyler to cherish forever. And then Ty arrived, and my life was exhausting adapting to being a single mum, still grieving the man I had loved so desperately. Sitting up alone at night with a colicky baby on my shoulder was a powerful reminder of the void Tyler’s absence left. But as Ty grew, I began to have moments of sunshine while learning his expressions, listening to his gabbling, receiving his baby kisses. Life found a new rhythm, one I’d thought would sustain me for the rest of my days. And I’d been doing my best to keep on living like he’d asked. But I’d been living life as a shell of the woman I used to be, and the ache I felt without him was indescribable. I didn’t think there’d ever be a day in my life that I didn’t hurt from his loss. But I’d finally come to a point where I didn’t feel so raw, so sliced open and exposed. Maybe it was selfish of me to feel relieved and hopeful. But I liked it. I liked being able to think about Tyler and smile instead of cry. I liked being able to spend time with Jude, talking and touching. I liked feeling something.

  Jude was nothing like Tyler. I couldn’t manage a connection with someone who reminded me of what I’d lost. But he was what I needed—wanted. And I hated that I’d been made to feel guilty about that. I hated that I was bullied back into this crying mess of a woman.

  I needed to move on. I needed to make a change. I couldn’t keep living with a ghost, because the ghost wasn’t him, it was just my memories mixing with my pain, refusing to let go.

  I needed to make a change.

  Sitting up, I wiped my hands over my face then got back to work. I rebuilt all the boxes Susan had broken down and packed everything back inside, taking my time to say goodbye to every single piece. Then I stacked it all up next to the front door for Susan. She could have it all. But I kept a single box of random items I thought Ty might want as he got older.

  When I was done, the sky was shifting from night to day. I sat in the empty room feeling so much lighter as the shadows shifted and brightened against the walls. When I heard Ty’s voice letting me know he was awake, I left the room, closing the door behind me and leaning up against it, a sense of relief washing over me. Now, it was just a room.

  Susan was going to hate me, but Tyler would have been proud. He never cared about material things anyway, only moments and memories. I have that in his journal. His whole heart is written down in that book. It was something I’d never part with. That journal and my own personal memories were all I needed.

  “You seem exhausted,” Janesa said when we sat in the café section of a kids play centre. I had been too tired to run after being up most of the night and asked her to meet me there instead.

  “I am. I didn’t sleep much last night.”

  “Any reason you need to talk about?”

  The waiter brought over our coffees.

  “I packed up Tyler’s room,” I told her when he left.

  “Wow.” She sat back in her chair, the surprise evident on her face. I cut through the discomfort of the conversation by looking over to Ty who was sitting at the top of a slippery dip and rolling coloured balls down to Rosie who was squealing with delight as she tried to catch them.

  “What made you decide to pack everything away?”

  I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “It’s been five years. Five. Years.”

  “I get it. And I think it’s a good thing.”

  “So do I. Susan, on the other hand…”

  “Didn’t go down so well?”

  “Not at all. She thinks I’m trying to erase him so I can fit Jude into my life.”

  “Is that what you’re doing?”

  “How can you even ask that?” The annoyance I’d felt with Susan once again flared up. Why did I have to defend myself?

  She held up her hands in a protective manner. “I’m just talking through it with you, Sarah. Personally, I’m excited about this. You’ve been a shadow of a woman for years. And lately, ever since you started mentioning Jude, you’ve started to…I don’t know, glow again. I’m seeing glimpses of your old self. And it’s good, really good. But you have to ask yourself, why now? Are things getting serious between you guys?”

  Picking up a packet of raw sugar, I flipped it between my fingers. “Things are just starting. We’ve kissed and we’ve talked. A lot.”

  “Kissed how? Like that peck you told me about, or proper tongue kissing?”

  I laughed, blushing all of a sudden. “The latter.”

  She grinned. “OK. This is good. It’s great, actually. You’re supposed to feel this way when a handsome British guy shows you some attention.”

  “I really like him. I never thought I’d even be able to look at a guy again after Tyler. But Jude came along and…” I sighed, shaking my head a little. “Every day just feels a little easier. I used to wake up to the sound of my heart breaking when I remembered Tyler was gone. But lately, it’s still broken, it’s just that the pain isn’t there. Does that make sense?” She nodded. “And I see how packing up Tyler’s room and starting something with Jude coincide. And yes, they’re related. But I didn’t pack up Tyler’s things because I’m suddenly over him and want to make room for Jude. I did it because I want to stop feeling so damn sad all the time. Turning my apartment from a shrine into a home is part of me healing and learning to live again.”

  Leaning forward, she rested her chin on her palm. “I think Tyler would be really proud of you. I never told you this before, but when we visited with him to say goodbye, you were all he talked about. He was so worried that you’d spend the rest of your life mourning him. He kept saying that he wanted to be the reason you smiled and he hated that he was making you sad. He wanted you to find love and happiness again. Even made us promise we’d make sure—not that anyone ever had a chance of making you do anything.” She laughed.

  A smile spread across my face, hearing his words were both heart-wrenching and life affirming. “God, I miss that man. I’d do anything to get him back.”

  “I know that. And I think you’ll find that Susan knows that too. Give her time, she’ll come around.”

  “I hope so.”

  When we arrived home, Jude was standing against our door.

  “You blew me off last night,” he said once I was near. I had. I was supposed to call him when Ty had gone to bed so he could come down and have a late dinner with me, maybe watch a movie. But after my confrontation with Susan, I put my phone to silent and didn’t look at it again until the morning.

  Ty got excited at the sight of him and squealed before running at him and jumping into his arms.

  “Did you come to pway?” he asked as Jude lifted him off the ground.

  “I came to talk to your mum, actually.”

  Ty folded his arms. “That’s really bor-wing.”

  “Maybe we can play after?”


  “Do ya know how to play spat face?”

  Jude chuckled. “I can’t say that I do.”

  “I’ll show you. It’s fun.”

  Agreeing, Jude put him down when I unlocked the door, then turned his attention to me.

  “Give me a minute to set up a movie for him. Then we can talk.”

  He nodded and waited patiently while I prepared some fruit for Ty to snack on and switched on Finding Nemo.

  “I’m sorry,” I told him as soon as Ty was settled. “I know I should have called and I was going to as soon as I got home today. I just… A lot happened yesterday.”

  He turned and indicated all the boxes by the door. “I can see that. Are you moving?”

  “No. I packed up Tyler’s room.”

  His brow quirked. “It wasn’t for my sake, I hope.”

  “God, everyone keeps asking me that.” I lifted my hands, my head shaking. “No. It wasn’t for you. It was for me. For once in this whole horrible process I decided to do something that was just for me. Is that OK? Is it OK for me not to want to live with a shrine in my house anymore?”

  Seeing how exasperated I was, he caught my hand and held it in his. “I’m sorry. That was really arrogant of me.”

  I relaxed a little. “Yeah, it was.”

  Giving my arm a gentle tug, he drew me toward him until I was close enough to place my hands on his chest. I could feel the rise and fall of his breathing. It comforted me, calmed me. “I was worried you’d changed your mind about us,” he said, his voice softening.

  “Never.” I pressed a brief kiss against his lips—nothing too intense because there was a child around. “I backed out of last night because I was upset. My mother-in-law saw me packing everything away and lost it. She took over and unpacked it all then put it back where it was. She said some pretty nasty things, and questioned my love for Tyler. It really hurt.” I shrugged. “I was going to leave it all to keep the peace because I don’t want to fight with her when she’s been so good to Ty and me. But I realised I needed to pack his things away. I’m living in this apartment and there’s this room dedicated to someone who isn’t here to use it anymore. Tyler wouldn’t want that. He’d want me to turn it into a playroom for Ty with a climbing wall or a ball pit installed—something crazy and fun. So I sat up all night, sorted through his things, and packed them away. Susan is going to lose it. But at the end of the day, Tyler was my husband, we lived here in this apartment, and he left it all to me. I get to choose. Don’t you think?”