by C. M. Newman
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: FRIENDS WHO KISS
Vince followed Jenna to their regular pew the next morning. “Did you tell Charlie?” Jenna asked in a low voice. The boy was currently saying hello to a friend who sat on the other side of the sanctuary.
“Not yet. Later today, I think. Angela’s all for it,” Vince replied.
“She’s late,” Jenna said, checking her watch.
“There she is.”
“Morning, sorry, I’m running a little behind,” Angela said, a bitter breeze—and an excited Charlie—following her to the pew. “I seriously need to get some new tires. Had a couple close calls on the way here.”
Vince made introductions and the women shook hands. They had talked over the phone and had even met—but not formally—at Kate’s funeral. Neither of them mentioned it. There wasn’t any time for small talk before the service started. Charlie squeezed himself in between his father and Angela.
Angela did her best to pay attention, to find any meaning in the prayers, hymns, and the sermon. But the way she saw it, she was here for Vince and not for herself. If she’d served her own interests this morning, she would have stayed in bed an extra couple of hours.
She’d understood Vince’s feelings of guilt and unease regarding churchgoing perfectly well when he’d described them to her. Her own past left her feeling the same way and thus too distracted to absorb or process much of anything. Vince introduced her to his pastor after the service, but no one made a big show about it.
“Everything all right?” Vince asked while they waited near the Sunday school rooms. Charlie’s class was running late as usual and Jenna had just left to run some errands, with a promise to chat with Angela more later.
“Yeah, it’s just…” Angela struggled to find a way to delay the conversation again.
“Whenever you’re ready, sorry,” Vince said understandingly. “Now’s probably not the best time anyway.”
“Yeah,” Angela said with a suddenly nervous stomach. “Do we have a battle plan for the whole…telling Charlie thing?” she asked.
“I don’t know exactly what to say to him, but…let’s just be honest. The more we try to twist it, the more stressful it’ll be in the long run. Like with the talk you and I had last week. It would’ve been a lot less awkward if I’d just been upfront with you. So let’s be upfront with him.”
“Good call,” Angela said. They loaded up on coffee, split a donut, and Vince dropped a few dollars in an offering basket.
Charlie sneaked up behind them and grabbed his dad’s arm. “Boo!”
“Whoa, hot coffee, hot coffee,” Vince said, almost dumping it all over himself. “Hi, buddy, how was Sunday school?”
“Good. Can we go out to lunch?” Charlie asked.
Vince laughed. “Are you paying?”
“Can we go home and check my piggy bank?”
—
“I like your sweater,” Angela told Charlie once they were all seated around a table at a local family diner and had placed their orders.
“Thanks,” Charlie said with a toothy smile.
“Listen, Charlie,” Vince said, getting started with a squeeze of Angela’s hand under the table. “I’d like to talk to you about something.” A myriad of sensations overtook his body, not one of them good.
“What, Daddy?” Charlie asked when Vince’s pause grew too long.
Vince smiled gently and looked his son in the eye. “Well, Charlie…I really…I really like Angela.”
“I know,” Charlie said. “Me too.”
“I know you like her. But the way I like her is a little bit different. Do you understand…what a boyfriend and girlfriend are?”
“Friends who kiss?” Charlie tried.
Vince met Angela’s eyes for a brief moment and turned to Charlie, his countenance warm and friendly. “Yeah, kind of like that. A boyfriend and girlfriend are friends, yes, and they kiss, but they also like each other in a different way than friends do.” Vince regretted continuing, as he felt he was opening the door for a slew of questions he wouldn’t be able to answer without making himself and Angela extremely uncomfortable.
But Charlie unknowingly showed his dad some mercy, not asking anything about love and marriage just yet. “Are you and Angela boyfriend and girlfriend?” he asked instead, his eyes widening in realization.
“Yes, we are. What do you think of that?” Vince asked.
Charlie nodded in fervent approval, his feet swinging wildly beneath him. “I like it.”
“Good,” Vince said, keeping his relieved sigh on the quiet side. He felt Angela loosen up next to him, too. “Do you have any questions?” he asked.
“Since you’re boyfriend and girlfriend, does that mean you kiss?” Charlie asked.
Angela decided to take part in the conversation. “We do.”
“Do you like Daddy a lot?”
Angela nodded smoothly. “I do. Very much.”
“What else happens?” Charlie wondered.
“Well,” Vince said, exchanging a cautious glance with Angela, “that’s really about it.”
“Are you gonna marry Daddy? Are you gonna live with us? My friend Adam’s mom married her boyfriend when we were in kindergarten and even though he’s not Adam’s real dad he still married Adam’s mom. So you could marry Daddy without being my real mom,” Charlie informed them without a single breath between words.
Both adults lost any triumphant feeling they’d gained over the course of the conversation, which had gone much smoother than expected until just now. Their faces white as sheets, they exchanged a discomfited glance.
“Charlie, given my illness, this is a complicated situation,” Vince began after clearing his throat. “And marriage and moving are big decisions that are especially hard to make when…when you have circumstances like mine.”
“But I want Angela to live with us,” Charlie said, his voice rising to a whine.
Vince grew tense as he tried to find a way out of this ever-deepening hole.
“Sweetie,” Angela cut in before Charlie could say anything that left either her or Vince feeling obligated to take any specific course of action, “your daddy and I haven’t really had a chance to discuss these big things yet. We haven’t been a couple for very long, and those are discussions that usually don’t happen for quite a while. Can you just trust that your daddy and I will make those decisions when we see fit?”
Charlie slumped down in his chair, not even brightening when their waitress set his chocolate milk in front of him. “Does that mean no?” he asked.
“It doesn’t mean no,” Vince said, picking up Charlie’s chin with his fingers. “It just means we need time to think about it on our own and we’re going to talk about it when the time is right. We wanted you to know about us. We thought it would make you happy.”
“It does,” Charlie affirmed, his legs kicking back to life.
“Oh, before we talk about anything else,” Vince said. “Auntie Jen knows too, but you two are the only ones who know.”
“How come?”
“Because sometimes when grown-ups are in this kind of relationship, they don’t want everyone else to know,” Vince explained for Angela.
“How come?”
Angela jumped in again. “Because sometimes other people don’t understand why two people would want to be boyfriend and girlfriend, so a couple might choose to keep it a secret because they don’t want people to bother them about it with lots of questions. Do you think you can do this for us? Keep it a secret?”
Charlie nodded dutifully. “Like when Daddy had ice cream last week after you went home ’cause dinner wasn’t good? He said that was a secret.”
Vince looked guiltily at the diners behind Angela, avoiding her eyes. “Yes, just like that,” Angela said, grinning. “Except what do you not do with secrets?”
“Tell other people…oops…sorry, Daddy,” Charlie covered up his mouth.
Vince smiled. “It’s okay. It’s good practice. All you have to do is not talk a
bout it to other people. Think you can do that for us?”
“Yup.”
“But,” Angela interjected, not a big fan of asking Vince to teach his son to lie for her sake, “if someone asks you directly if your daddy and I are seeing each other, or if they ask you why I’m here a lot, you can tell the truth. We don’t want to ask you to lie like that, because lying’s not a good thing. Okay? So just don’t bring it up, but if someone asks you, it’s okay to tell.”
Charlie took a moment to process this. “So I don’t talk about it unless someone asks me?”
“Close enough,” Vince said.
“Okay. What’re we gonna do today?” Charlie asked.
“How about we bake some cookies?” Angela suggested. “Heart-shaped ones.”
“We only have Christmas cookie cutters,” Charlie said.
“I guess that means we’re going to the store after lunch, then,” Vince said with good cheer.
—
A while later, the three of them strolled through the nearest grocery store. Vince led them up and down the aisles, picking up some things they needed anyway, before looking in the baking aisle.
“Daddy, is she pregnant?” Charlie asked without lowering his voice, pointing to a woman who rested a hand on a very pronounced baby bump while she tried to decide between two bags of sugar.
“Charlie, you can’t say things like that,” Vince muttered.
The woman turned, smiling. “It’s okay,” She picked out what she needed and walked away, leaving an eye-rolling Vince in her wake.
“Adam’s mom is pregnant,” Charlie explained, oblivious to how embarrassed his father was.
“Oh yeah?” Angela said eagerly. “Does she know if she’s gong to have a boy or a girl?”
“A boy. Adam said he heard his mom say that her and Adam’s stepdad are gonna keep trying until they have a girl. How do you get pregnant, anyway?”
“That is a secret that I’ll talk to you about soon,” Vince said, dropping an armful of necessities into the cart.
“Are you gonna get pregnant someday?” Charlie asked Angela, reaching for her hand.
“I don’t know, honey. It’s hard to say,” Angela said uneasily.
“You and my daddy could have a baby.”
Charlie’s innocent statement left Vince and Angela with nothing to do except stare silently ahead of them. The possibility of Angela carrying Vince’s child had never been brought up. Unbeknownst to the other, both of them had let the thought cross their minds before, just not for long. To each, the idea sounded preposterous.
“It’s not really that simple, Charlie,” Vince said. “Even if two people want to have a baby together, it doesn’t mean they can.”
“You mean you want to?” Charlie asked.
Vince sighed quietly. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just one of those grown-up issues that you might understand when you’re older, okay? And it’s one of those things that Angela and I would have to talk about in private if the time comes. It’s another issue that requires us to have a serious conversation after we’ve been in a relationship for a lot longer than we have. Plus it’s a grown-up issue.”
“When do I get to be a grown-up?” Charlie asked woefully.
—
Later that evening, once Charlie had gone to bed, Angela sank into the couch, cozying up into Vince’s open and waiting arm. “Here,” she said, handing him a few of their sugary creations.
“I’m allowed more than one?” Vince asked.
Angela nudged him gently in the side with her elbow. “I don’t try to be a diet freak, you know. I just want you to take it easy on your body. It’s already going through enough trauma.”
Angela sounded rather defensive, and Vince hadn’t meant to pick a fight. “Hey,” he said, pressing his lips to her hair. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m grateful that you care. I really am. And I only had ice cream that night because I was extra hungry and I wanted to take advantage of that feeling.”
Angela warmed up a little. “I know that casserole was disgusting. I had a frozen dinner when I got home. I’m not looking for credit, though, you know. I just want to help.”
“I know.”
“Hey, can we trade? I want the one with more sprinkles,” Angela said, holding out a pink frosted heart.
“Sure. Not much of a sprinkles guy, anyway.” Vince swapped cookies with Angela and propped his feet up on the coffee table.
“So, do we want to talk about how your son says the darnedest things?” she ribbed him.
“I’m okay with skipping over that part of the day if you are.”
Angela wasn’t sure whether that was the answer she needed to hear from Vince. Now that the day had wound down and she and Vince found themselves looking back on it, she couldn’t help but let her imagination wander to the places where it already spent too much time. She began to envision what it would really be like to marry Vince, to spend the last few months he had left as a married couple, only for her to be a widow soon, maybe a pregnant one. Was that something she wanted? Would she rather come out the other side of this as a widow or a woman grieving her dead boyfriend? Would a child of theirs serve as a painful reminder of their time together, or a beautiful one? Or were marriage and parenthood simply out of the question at this point in time?
“Did you want to talk about it?” Vince asked, feeling as if he’d made a fumble when Angela didn’t respond.
“Not really,” Angela said right away. “I mean, what’s there to talk about?” She settled back into Vince’s side, shoving the last of her cookie into her mouth and sliding her arm behind his back.
“Right,” Vince said in a breath. He lolled his head back and let his eyes slowly shut, allowing the image of Angela to cross behind his eyelids. Over her very pregnant belly lay a hand, again decorated with a sparkling band that symbolized a promise he would be perfectly happy to make to her right now, if only he knew that it was what she wanted. He couldn’t help but wonder who on earth would choose to be a widow. And surely, he felt, no woman would want to carry a dead man’s baby.
Angela unconsciously rested her hand on her stomach as her cheeks heated, threatening her with the prospect of breaking down yet again. Her nose plugged up instantly, forcing her to breathe through her mouth unsteadily.
“I said something.” Vince was sure of it, purposely not asking, but saying. “What is it?” he asked, pleading with his eyes for her to be honest with him.
Angela’s head shrank between her shoulders. “One of us has to lose it every day, right? And you’ve seemed a lot healthier this week. It’s just going to be worse when you start back up on your chemo. But I just wish I could forget for one day. Just a day. I hate that we have to spend our time alone talking or thinking about where Charlie and I will be when this is all over, because that means I have to put myself in that time and that place, and I just—I can’t. I’m sorry…” Her body trembled as she folded forward, her nose to her knees. She couldn’t keep the tears at bay any longer. “I’m sorry. I’m making this about me again.”
“If I do get to go to a better place eventually, then this time that I have left is about you, Angela. You and Charlie. Yeah, I still spend time feeling sorry for myself, but I spend much more time hoping that you two can move on as if…I never existed.”
Angela was nearly swallowing her lips when she looked up to see how serious Vince was. “Please, don’t say things like that. I mean it.”
“It would be easier, wouldn’t it?” Vince persisted. “Wouldn’t it be nice if the second I took my last breath, you could flip a switch and this would all be one of those dreams where the details disappear the more you try to remember them?”
“Of course it would be easier, but that doesn’t mean I want it that way. Forgetting you would make this entire relationship a waste.”
“But do you see why it’s what I would want?” Vince asked, pulling Angela up into his arms. “Of course I want to be remembered, but I want so much more for you two—f
or everyone—to walk away from this unscathed. It eats me up every day to know that won’t happen. I guess all I’m trying to say is that I know how you feel right now. I know you’re scared. Just know that it’s not selfish to feel that way or even to bring it up around me, because I’m scared for the same reasons. I don’t want you to hurt.”
“I know you don’t. I’m sorry. I’ll try to be braver,” Angela said with a dry sniffle, attempting to remove herself from his grasp.
Vince tightened his grip, though. “That’s not what I meant. There’s no avoiding the pain right now, so if you’re feeling it, I do want to know. Save the bravery for later. You’ll need more of it then. Okay?”
Angela nodded and placed her palms on Vince’s chest, pushing herself away from him. He let go this time and she rose. “I just need some water,” she explained.
Vince followed Angela to the kitchen, where she stood in front of the sink for a while, waiting for the water to get to its coldest. As she gulped the glass down too fast, she knew Vince was watching her, waiting.
In need of a tissue and a mirror, Angela excused herself to the bathroom. But Vince just trailed behind her as she padded down the hall. She flipped on a light in the hallway bathroom and surveyed the mess she’d already made under her eyes. When she turned on the water to splash some on her face, Vince got her a clean hand towel. “Thanks,” she said stuffily.
“Of course.” He stood behind her, taking her knotted-up shoulders between his fingers and thumbs, kneading her muscles. “Just try and relax,” he whispered.
“Can I be there with you when it happens?” Angela asked, licking her lips and tasting her tears.
Vince’s felt his pulse deep within his head. “When I die?”
Angela nodded.
“You want that?”
“Of course I do. I need that. What, were you planning on being alone?” When Angela opened her eyes, she realized just how long they had been closed. The light seared them, but once they adjusted, she saw her soggy, smeared face in the mirror, with Vince’s helpless visage right next to it. He still hadn’t answered her question. “I don’t know how many times I have to say this to you, or show you, but I’ll keep at it until you understand,” she said, maintaining a steady gaze with him in the mirror. “You’re not alone in anything. You’re not alone right now, and you don’t ever have to be again.” She twisted in his arms and framed his face with her hands. He said nothing in return, simply looking baffled, absorbed. “I want to be there. For all of it. I almost watched it happen once. I can handle it again. I need to be with you. Will you just let me? Please?”
Vince gulped, but finally nodded. “I want you there, too, for completely selfish reasons. But I wouldn’t blame you if you changed your mind at any point along the way. We’re only a week in and it’s already hard. It’ll only get harder.”
“I know. But we don’t have to let this defeat us. It’ll be ugly, but we’ll be okay. And I don’t plan on going anywhere,” Angela said staunchly.
Vince closed in for a kiss just as Charlie stirred in his room. Angela went to the kitchen, not wanting Charlie to see her in such a state.
“What is it, buddy?” Vince asked when Charlie emerged from his room, looking ghostlike.
“I don’t feel good,” Charlie moaned.
“In what way?” Vince asked, crouching down and brushing his son’s hair away from his forehead. “Upset tummy?”
Charlie nodded. “I think I have to puke…”
“Okay, then, let’s go do that. Come on,” Vince said, ushering Charlie into the bathroom. Within a couple of minutes, they were sitting on the rug, against the edge of the bathtub, Vince holding Charlie in his lap. “Do you feel a little better?”
“A little but not all the way,” Charlie mumbled, wiping his mouth.
“Okay. I’ll wait here with you until you feel all the way better,” Vince promised. Charlie threw up once more before proclaiming that his stomach was no longer upset, then brushed his teeth. Vince’s strength had been waning so quickly that he wasn’t sure what he could and couldn’t handle anymore, however he couldn’t say no to Charlie when he opened his arms to be picked up.
“Can I sleep in your room?” Charlie asked as his dad carried him down the hall.
“Sure. I’ll lay you down and then I’ll go get you some crackers. They’ll help keep your tummy settled.” He tucked Charlie in, then went out to the kitchen, where Angela waited with an already understanding look on her face. “Sorry—”
“Don’t apologize,” Angela said. Vince noticed she already had her shoes on. “He needs you, I understand. It’s getting late anyway. I should get home.”
Vince closed in for a goodnight kiss. “See you tomorrow, or do you need a day off?”
Angela gave Vince a look. “Of course I’ll see you tomorrow. I hope Charlie feels better.”
Charlie didn’t even see or hear Angela when he came down the hall, silently crying. “I don’t think I was feeling better,” he moaned, sniffling and running one hand under his nose and the other under his chin, which was covered in sick.
“Uh-oh.” Vince squatted down yet again and felt Charlie’s clammy cheek. “Did you get sick in bed?”
Charlie nodded, his cries growing louder. “Sorry, Daddy…”
“Shh, It’s okay, you couldn’t help it. Let’s go get you in the tub and get you a fresh set of PJs.”
“Can I stay home from school tomorrow?”
Vince and Angela exchanged an amused look that Charlie didn’t see, as his face was currently buried in his dad’s chest. He was still unaware that Angela was even there. “We’ll see how you feel in the morning. C’mon. Just how many cookies did you have, anyway?” he asked as they disappeared from Angela’s sight, Vince giving her a wave behind his back.
“Only ten…”