by Thomas Kies
Before he died, Kevin had restored the missing cabinet doors, the countertops, the light fixtures, and finished dozens of other repairs that he’d started. But it was all still rough around the edges so Caroline and I spent evenings and weekends spackling, sanding, and painting. I’d say the place is pretty much complete, and for a couple of amateurs, looks pretty damned good.
Yes, I know there are ghosts here.
But they’re benevolent spirits. Sometimes I think I can feel Joanna, mostly in Caroline’s room. And Kevin…I feel him all the time.
Sitting on my bed, reading his note that day, I was overcome with grief. Then the grieving turned to anger. Kevin had cheated me out of what little time we had left together by dying. We’d misspent our lives by not understanding we were supposed to be a couple and then when we’d finally found each other, he lost it.
Aunt Ruth surprised me by not fighting for Caroline’s custody. She huffed and puffed but in her heart Ruth knew where Kevin’s daughter wanted to be. The only concession I had to offer was that Caroline spend time with Dr. Tina Beaufort. I don’t know why I was surprised that Dr. Tina was not only likable, but very competent. Maybe because she was Aunt Ruth’s therapist as well…and hell, up until now, Ruth wasn’t making much progress out of Uptight Heights.
Dr. Tina told me that, as horrible as it was, losing her father so suddenly may have been less traumatic than watching him die slowly…like her mom did. We were all surprised that she seemed to recover faster than we’d anticipated.
Dr. Tina had a theory for that as well. She thought that Caroline could see my pain and she needed to be strong for me. Caroline was taking on the responsibility of getting me through this.
I recall Kevin telling me that was what she did for him when Joanna died.
So Caroline and I worked on the house together and we learned to cook. I’ve never been much of a chef, but most nights now I make dinner. I’ve discovered that not only am I pretty good at it, I enjoy it.
Casper retired back in December and, because it pays more money, Laura took over as nighttime copy editor. She promoted me to her old spot as editor on days. It was a vote of confidence I needed, as well as little more in my paycheck and a schedule where I could be home in the evening for Caroline. I guess Laura’s not such a bitch after all.
Aunt Ruth comes over for dinner once every two or three weeks. Maybe my sobriety has made me more tolerant of her presence…or maybe she’s just not as crazy as I thought. There are some evenings I actually enjoy her company.
I heard through the grapevine that Frank Mancini’s wife kicked him out of their Westport home and filed for divorce after she’d caught him, yet again, with another woman. A few months later, someone told me that she’d called off the divorce proceedings and agreed to let him move back into their house. Probably contingent on his testicles being kept in a locked box for which only she has the key. Shortly after Kevin died, Frank surprised me by calling my cell phone and leaving a message. He said, “Genie, I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I know how much Kevin meant to you. It makes me realize how appallingly awful I was to you that day you both were out on Connor’s Landing. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
I couldn’t make myself call him so I texted him instead. “I forgive you.”
I’ve had dinner a couple of times with Mike Dillon. Our relationship is strictly platonic and we’re both content with that. After everything that happened, including the bad publicity, Mike decided that having his son attend the Hanley Academy wasn’t such a good idea after all. He’s a freshman at the same school that Caroline attends.
The nights are the hardest for me. When I’m alone in the dark in Kevin’s bed, I feel cheated. There’s so much more of Kevin that I wanted.
I’m not angry with him anymore. I know why I feel lost.
Did anything good come out of it? Of course…I’m clean and sober now. Kevin’s death probably saved me from killing myself, either from alcoholism or dying in a drunk driving accident and possibly killing someone else. He gave me Caroline, a beautiful young lady to share my life with.
So is it chance or is there a plan?
Ultimately the plan is we all die, that’s pretty obvious. None of us gets out of here alive. But beyond that, is there a meaning to our being here at all?
I’ve thought about it a lot. I guess while we’re alive, it’s up to us to enjoy and appreciate each and every moment to give our own purpose to our existence. And after we’re gone, I suppose it’s up to the people who know and love us to figure out what we’ve done and who we were that gives meaning to their own lives.
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