by Denise Wells
“I know,” I tell her, looking back up and meeting her gaze. “I want a guarantee I’m not going to be hurt. But it’s too late, I’m already sunk deep in this. I don’t even know how it happened. I know, you can’t predict the future, I get it. I’m just . . . I don’t know. I’m feeling unsettled and I don’t want to be.”
“Tenley, why does this have to be left up to Bradley? Can’t you just decide what you want and act accordingly?”
“Well, it’s kinda hard to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with you.” I laugh, but it’s short.
“You deciding about your life doesn’t mean that it will happen. It just means that you’ve cleared it in your own mind.”
“What do you mean?” I think I know what she means, but I’m being obtuse, and I’d like for her to spell it out for me.
“You want to be with Bradley—”
“I think.”
“Oh, you do.” She laughs.
I don’t laugh with her.
“So, you get to make that decision for yourself. It doesn’t matter what Bradley decides.”
“What if he doesn’t want the same thing?”
“Then you move on.”
“Ha. Isn’t that the whole point of all of this? People not being able to move on.”
“My point is, you wanting to be with Bradley is not dependent upon him wanting to be with you.”
I start to interrupt, but she holds up her hand to stop me.
“The actuality of it is,” she continues, “the conflict you’re feeling is because you don’t want to make a final decision on your feelings. For fear of them not being returned. That way you think you avoid being hurt. But you don’t avoid it because you’re hurting now.”
So, she meant what I thought she meant. Sometimes I hate emotionally smart people who can figure shit out and turn it back on you.
“So, you’re saying that’s it? Just decide and move on?”
“Yes, move forward or move on. It’s always a choice, Tenley. Every day is a choice.”
“Okay.” I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Now, shall we check some items off our list?” Nessa smiles as she asks.
“Yes, we shall.” I smile back, knowing I probably won’t follow her advice, because it’s too pragmatic and mature, but wishing I was a person who would all the same. Then I laugh at myself, because apparently all I have to do is make a choice to be that person.
If only it were that easy.
36
Brad
I stop to buy flowers before I get there. I know, it’s totally cliché to bring a girl flowers, these aren’t even her favorites, but I’m doing it anyway. It’s the gesture that counts. My palm is sweaty, the good one, and just a tad slippery against the steering wheel. I’m nervous, I know that. But this is a necessary step for my future and I’m proud of myself for making it.
The closer I get, the harder my heart pounds. I take some deep breaths and let them out slowly. It’s silly to be this skittish over something so normal. People do this every day, it’s no big deal. But every delay at a stoplight, every slowdown in traffic, has me ready to jump out of my skin.
You got this, man. Calm the fuck down.
I make the final turn, looking up as I arrive.
I guess it’s now or never.
I stop the truck, turn off the ignition, and get out. Then, I slowly make my way up the front walk.
Kat did not want to be cremated; she was very clear about that. But what she wanted wasn’t yet available in the United States—to be a tree. Have her body buried in an organic biodegradable burial pod where it acts as nutrients for the tree, allowing a person to essentially come full circle in the cycle of life. So, we found the next best thing in a nearby county—an environmentally conscious green cemetery, with no coffins and no gravestones. Over two hundred acres of woods and greenery where land conservation and restoration are integrated with cemetery and burial ritual.
Kat chose a spot—difficult to get to—with a view of the valley beneath. A small engraved boulder is all that remains to mark her place on this earth. I take about ten minutes to hike there, and by the time I arrive, my nerves have calmed and I’m ready to do what needs to be done.
“Hey, babe.” I settle myself down on the ground next to her boulder and lay the flowers on the other side of it. No vase, no plastic wrap or bindings, just the flowers themselves in a small, now scattered bunch. I look around at the green rolling hills and huge trees that surround where she now rests. It gives her a daily view of all that she loved about San Soloman and the surrounding areas.
The only other more perfect spot for Kat would be near the water. We thought, briefly, about cremation and scattering her ashes in the ocean, but she wanted to remain close by. Become a part of the land that literally supported those who she loved. I’m convinced she’s in the wildflowers that grow sporadically around this spot. It makes my heart happy to know that wish for her has come true.
“I figured this conversation needed to be face-to-face, not just me talking aloud somewhere.” I take a minute to situate myself so I’m lying beside her, as if she were still here. “As you know, I met someone. Her name is Tenley. Apparently, we met her at Ethan’s wedding—she’s Sadie’s best friend—but I don’t remember that. I’m sure you do though. You were always better at that stuff than I am.”
A slight breeze kicks up, gently rustling the leaves in the trees, the only sound to be heard aside from my voice. “I like her. A lot. She makes me calm and I need that. You would like her. Hell, you probably liked her when you met her. The two of you are a lot alike. Not in that creepy ‘I’m involved with my dead wife’ kind of way. You don’t look alike at all, but your personalities are similar. Take no shit. Enjoy life. Love fully. Embrace you.”
I laugh at the memory of the little notes Kat would leave for herself around the house, saying these exact things, as a daily reminder of who she was in her struggle to remain. Not remain anything specific, mind you, just remain. Live.
“She’s a redhead. I know, you always thought I had a secret thing for redheads. Fuck, maybe I did. Maybe I do. It doesn’t change the thing I’ll always have for you. I don’t know that I can ever feel again the depth of love that I have for you. According to Nessa, I can, it will just be different. Aww, shit, I haven’t even told you about Nessa, have I?”
I spend the next half hour telling her all about Nessa and her views on life after death of a spouse. As I do, I feel Kat agreeing with her emphatically, cheering me on and pushing me to stretch beyond my comfort zone, thus strengthening my resolve to see if I can’t make a go of it with Tenley. That’s the thing with Kat, her love is never conditional, never selfish—it is always about you being the best you.
Shit, do I have to say her love was never conditional? Was never selfish? For me, Kat is still so real, in my memory and in my heart. I have a hard time referring to her in the past tense, because she’s still so prevalent. Relevant. Here.
“So, Nessa says it’s a tribute to you and to the love we share—shared—that I can love again. Because how else would I know to recognize it if not for having experienced it before?” A warm breeze trickles over me and goose bumps rise on my skin. Every time something like this happens, I’m certain it’s Kat reassuring me.
I tell her about Ethan’s baby and the issues with her birth, and about my talk with Remi. “I tried to really see this whole thing from her perspective. But I gotta tell you, babe, it’s difficult sharing the grief over losing you. There’s a part of me that wants to have the monopoly on that. Like I’m the big loser here and no one else can possibly feel that depth of loss. But I realized thinking that way diminishes you. It is such a better representation of you that so many people were so impacted by your loss, and not just me. I don’t want you to feel bad when I say this, but Remi is just as profoundly affected. I don’t think I took the time to acknowledge that before.
“And why would I want it any other way? Why would I want th
e great love of my life not to have impacted others in hers? You know? As morbid as it may be, that is how you need to be remembered, as having left a deep chasm of longing in many. Because your touch reached that far. That is who you are, babe, a woman intensely loved by so many. And who showed me how to share that love.”
I sit up, running my fingers through my hair. It still feels awkward using my left hand for such actions, but it’s all I’ve got. I cross my legs in front of me and rest my elbows on my knees, looking down at Kat’s final resting place. Remembering her face as she smiled, her arms as they embraced me, her words as they washed over me. I stay there for a while enjoying the solitude and the feeling of Kat being close by, only deciding to leave once the sun disappears behind the clouds for longer than a few minutes and the breeze turns cold.
“There will never be another you, Katarina Walker. And the day will come where we will be together again. Until then, I’m honoring the promise I made to you. I will do my damnedest to move on and find happiness. I hope that will be with Tenley. If not, that’s okay too. I’ll keep going. For you. And for me.” I kiss the tips of my fingers and bring them to the boulder that marks her spot.
Katarina Oxana Walker
August 4, 1975 - February 25, 2015
“All you need is love -
but having great tits helps.”
37
Tenley
I stop by the hospital to see Sadie and the baby on my way home from working with Nessa. I head to the gift shop first, to grab some magazines and candy for Sadie and a small stuffed animal for Audrey. At the last second, I also grab a book of crossword puzzles and a new release action thriller for Ethan.
Armed with all my treasures, I make my way up to their floor. As I reach her room, the door opens and out steps Brad. I stop short, not sure what to say or do. I keep forgetting about how awkward this will be with our circle of friends being so small.
“Oh. Hey,” he says as the door shuts behind him. He sticks his hands in his pockets and shuffles his feet. Good, at least he feels as awkward as I do.
“I was just going—” I say, at the same time he says, “I went to—”
“You first,” I say.
“I was just stopping by to check on them. I was going to call you.”
“Oh. That’s fine. You don’t need to.”
His face clouds over, and I can’t tell if it’s relief or something else.
“I’m just going to bring these in.” I brush past him to open the door. He doesn’t move from where he’s standing or say anything to stop me.
“Look, Audrey, we have another visitor,” Sadie trills to the baby who is asleep. “I keep trying to get her to wake up when people are here, but she just keeps sleeping.” She looks down at the baby with a huge smile.
“I keep telling her rest when the baby does, but she doesn’t listen,” Ethan mumbles from the corner, where he’s slouched in a chair with his eyes shut and arms crossed over his massive chest.
“Come, sit.” Sadie pats the bed next to her. “How are you doing? You know?” She nods her head toward the door, I’m assuming to gesture to where Brad just left from.
“I’m good. Great. I just need to decide what I want and move on from there.”
She scoots over and I lie down on the bed next to her, with me on my side to face her and take up less space, the baby between us. “He just had a long talk with Ethan,” Sadie whispers.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” She looks at me, eyebrows raised. “Don’t you want to know what about?”
“Nope.”
She doesn’t look convinced. I can’t say I blame her since I didn’t even sound convinced. We continue to whisper between us.
“I heard your name come up a few times. I pretended to be asleep.”
“It doesn’t matter. I just need to make the best decision for me.”
“You said that already, what does that even mean?”
“It doesn’t matter if he wants to be with me or not. I need to determine if I want to be with him.”
Her brow furrows. “How does that work?”
“If I don’t want Brad, it doesn’t matter what he wants.”
“Okay.” She draws the word out.
“If I do, and he wants the same, then great.”
“Right.”
“If I do and he doesn’t, then I know and move on.”
“But isn’t that kind of how it always goes anyway?”
“Yes.” I sigh. “But this way, I’m in control of what I do and I’m not just waiting around for him to decide or whatever.”
“I think I understand.”
“Of course you understand, it’s about taking back your power.”
“Did you lose your power?”
“Yes. And not only that but all common sense and self-control.” I want to move my hands as I’m talking but it’s too hard in the confined space. “Sadie, I had sex with this guy in a public restroom. And he threw up afterward.”
“Well, yeah, but that had nothing to do with you.”
I keep going, ignoring her. “Then I had sex with him again. In the parking lot, in his truck.”
“Still—”
I hold my hand up to stop her. “And if that’s not bad enough, then he came back, and I had sex with him again. At my house. And he left while I was sleeping. Without a word.”
“Okay, but—”
My voice gets louder. “I keep letting him do whatever the fuck he wants, without saying a word. I’m Brad’s doormat, Sadie. His sex doormat.”
She laughs at that.
“It’s not funny!”
“It is funny.”
Ethan snorts out a snore, shaking himself awake. His eyes fly open and he looks around. Seeing everything is okay, he settles back into the chair and falls back asleep.
“Ugh, his snores are the worst in that chair,” Sadie says, rolling her eyes.
“He doesn’t snore normally?”
“Not like that. He has these soft little snores that let me know he’s asleep.”
I smile. I love that she has this in her life. Someone she knows so well, she can tell the difference in his snores—when he’s sleeping comfortably and when he’s not.
“He hasn’t left the entire time.”
“He loves you, Sadie-Sue.”
“I know.” She blows him a kiss he won’t even see. And I love that too. The gesture of love that won’t even be acknowledged.
“You’re a lucky girl, you know that?” I tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear.
“I am.” She sighs, happily before turning the conversation back on me. “So, what are you going to do? What’s your decision?”
“I don’t know yet. But the most important thing is, I get to make it.”
“Girl power!” she yells softly.
“Damn straight.”
“He watched the baby so Ethan could help me shower earlier.”
“He did?” My heart melts a bit at that.
“Yeah, I mean, she was asleep in her little cart, but still. He would have had to do something if she’d woken up.”
“True.”
“He also brought Ethan real food.”
“What a guy.”
“It was nice. He looks out for E how you look out for me.”
“You’re my best friend. I’m legally required to do so, it’s in the contract.”
She giggles. “I’m just saying, you both are loving and caring people who go out of your way for those that you love.”
“And?”
“And, I think it would be really easy for you to do that with each other.”
“He’s still in love with Kat.”
“What, and that means he can’t also love someone else? He loves Ethan and me, and the baby.”
“It’s not the same.”
“Love is love is love.”
“It’s not, and you know it.”
“Fine, but maybe just be a little flexible when you make your big girl power dec
ision.”
“That defeats the whole purpose.”
“Maybe. But life isn’t about definites and resolutes, it’s about ambiguity and cooperation.”
“Hmm.” I don’t exactly agree with her on that, but she might be on to something. And, of the two of us, she is the one who’s blissfully happy and has everything she ever wanted.
She yawns big, and I take that as a cue.
“I’m going to go, I just wanted to stop in and say hi. Do you know yet when you get to go home?”
“More than likely, tomorrow morning. I can’t wait.”
I slide out of the bed as gently as possible, then lean over and give both Sadie and Audrey kisses on their foreheads. I take a moment to smell Audrey’s baby smell as I do.
Just nothing in the world like it.
“Give E a big hug for me.”
“Will do,” Sadie says, her eyes already shutting before I’m even out the door, which I shut carefully behind me as to not wake anyone. I turn and head toward the elevator bank, thinking about both conversations I had today—the one with Nessa and the one with Sadie. Even though I know the safe thing is to run as far as I can from Brad, I can’t deny that part of me that is drawn to him. And it’s about more than just sex. I’m drawn to him as a person, as a man. I genuinely like him, crabby and contentious though he may be.
I scoff at that thought as I hit the elevator call button.
“There you are.”
I turn and see Brad behind me.
“Can we talk?” he asks as the elevator doors slide open.
38
Brad
I wait for almost an hour outside Sadie’s hospital room for Tenley to come back out. But when she does, I chicken out of talking to her.
It takes all of ten seconds to get my courage back up, but by then she’s at the elevator bays. Luckily, I catch up to her before she gets on.
“Can we talk?” I ask, her back to me.
She turns.