A Summer to Remember

by Victoria Cooke

  For a second, I watch the condensation roll down the outside of my wineglass. ‘They’re in the Cotswolds still. I don’t see that much of them anymore.’

  ‘Oh.’ He looks like he wants to ask why, but he doesn’t. I like that he seems to be able to sense these things, but I find myself wanting to offer him an explanation.

  ‘We had a bit of a disagreement a few months before Kev died. It was silly really, I’d overheard them saying they didn’t think he took life seriously enough and I blew my top. We’d all been really close before that. For almost ten years Kev and I had gone and had Sunday lunch at my mum and dad’s house and it felt like a huge betrayal to hear them say those things. After he’d gone, I couldn’t really bring myself to forgive them and I couldn’t live in that village anymore. I couldn’t be around the people who went from knowing us as a couple to giving me pitiful glances when I saw them in the offy.’

  ‘The offy?’

  ‘Off-licence, or liquor store.’ I put on my best American accent for ‘liquor store’ to lift the mood, and it comes out pretty good. ‘Anyway, I had to get away so I moved to London. There was a small part of me that did it for Kev too – he loved to be spontaneous and a part of me wanted to keep that little spark of him going. It was a bit of a two fingered salute to my parents too at the time I suppose.’ Ethan furrows his brow sympathetically.

  ‘They adored Kev,’ I explain. ‘He was the son they’d never had, the person who’d brightened up their miserable daughter’s life. He’d help my dad with DIY and my mum with the gardening. He’d make them laugh and call them nicknames that nobody else would get away with. That’s why I was so hurt when I heard them talking so negatively about him. It was such a stab in the back. I realise now that they didn’t mean it, they’d had a few glasses of wine and were having a bit of a bitch because we lived differently to them. It’s taken me a while to see that and at the time, I just wanted to keep my memories of Kev pure.’ I take a sip of my wine, and it hurts to swallow it.

  Ethan stares down at his hands which rest upon the table. ‘I totally get it, you know I do. Do you think maybe you’ve been a little hard on them?’

  His words send heat through my body and I have to steady my voice before I speak. I know I’m only angry because he’s right. ‘If Kev hadn’t died just a few weeks later, I probably would have listened to their explanations and forgiven them eventually. Maybe. But when he died, their careless words manifested in my mind and I couldn’t bring myself to be around them. They were devastated by his death and filled with regret, of course they were. They even said they’d lost a son but I didn’t want to hear about it. Your brain doesn’t work properly when it’s filled with grief, does it?’

  ‘No,’ he says softly. ‘So haven’t you seen them at all in eight years?’

  I pause, trying to think of a way to word my answer that won’t make me look like a total bitch.

  ‘Not exactly.’ He raises his eyebrow and I continue. ‘Not face to face and not for a while but a few years ago I started sending Christmas cards and things. A year or so ago, I found a pair of my gran’s old earrings and I texted my mum to say I’d send them over to her. Since then we’ve sent the odd text.’

  ‘Don’t you miss them.’

  I don’t need to think about it. ‘Yes, of course I do. They tried so hard to be there for me after Kev died but I found it suffocating. It was so confusing after what they’d said, and too much in a short space of time. Out of anger, I told them I’d never forgive them and if they didn’t stop trying to make amends, I’d disappear for good. So much time has passed that I don’t see a way of changing things. The damage I’ve done is irreversible.’

  ‘It may feel that way, but it’s been eight years, and to them, they haven’t just lost Kev. They’ve lost you too.’

  His words hit me like a staple-gun to the chest, propelling painful tears up to my eyes.

  ‘I know,’ I say, my voice cracking. ‘It’s just been so long. I don’t know what I’d say to them if I picked up the phone or turned up on the doorstep.’

  He raises his eyebrow. ‘As a parent, I wouldn’t care. If it were Lexi who’d cut me out of her life and she turned up one day to apologise, I’d just be glad to have her back. I say if you want to patch things up, just explain how you felt.’

  I blow my nose on my napkin. Not the most attractive manoeuvre, but fortunately for me, I’m not trying to be alluring. ‘I’ll maybe call them when I get back to the UK.’

  ‘We have phones here too,’ he says with a hopeful look.

  ‘Don’t push me,’ I warn, jokingly.

  ‘For me, family is the most important thing. Without them, I wouldn’t have gotten through – even my dumbass brother was there for me,’ he says fondly and laughs.

  I don’t even know myself why I had to get away. It was a feeling so strong, like a vice around my lungs squeezing me tighter after every encounter. I’m not sure there was a word for it but I knew it would only ease off if I left the village. It’s so long ago now it’s hard to remember. ‘I don’t know why, I just couldn’t let anyone help me. Whenever anyone tried it was like the Thames Barrier came up and kept them out. I didn’t want anyone in my life who wasn’t Kev.’

  ‘I needed help for Lexi more than anything. She was teething at the time, and I remember looking at her little pink face as she screamed and screamed and saying to her, “Your mother is dead, why are you screaming about nothing?” My mom overheard that particular breakdown, and she took over until I could think more clearly. My dad was great giving me a job, so I could be near her all the time. Giving up my career was a huge decision, overnight I’d lost my wife and my dream job.’

  Life didn’t feel fair after losing Kev. My universe was upended, and we didn’t deserve it but taking a mother from a baby is something else. ‘I don’t know how people expect us to come back from tragedies like these,’ I say.

  He twists his mouth grimly. ‘When Nicole died, the celebrant at her funeral said something that helped. She said grief is our unspent love.’ He pauses and his eyes start to glisten. ‘She said, when you lose someone you love, the love you feel for them has nowhere left to go, so it comes out in tears and emotion. The more you loved them, the more that comes out.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought of it like that.’ Since my discarded tissues could have been packaged up and used to start an international wet wipe company large enough to rival Huggies, the evidence was there – I had a lot of unspent love for Kev. ‘Does that mean I didn’t show it enough when he was alive?’

  ‘On the contrary, it had somewhere to go then, you gave it all to Kev.’

  I dab my eyes with my napkin before my make-up is ruined.

  ‘Going back to your question about how do we come back from losing someone we love? I don’t think we do. But, in some ways, we get to have another chance at life. We can’t replace those we’ve lost, but we can meet people who light up our lives in a different way.’

  ‘One door closes …’ I’m over-simplifying a broad range of emotions but it’s true.

  ‘Exactly. The courses of our lives may change, but we can still enjoy them. I get to see much more of Lexi now that I’m based in Provincetown and not Boston, and I get more of a balanced life. I meet great people, present company included …’ He smiles warmly, and it’s infectious enough to make me too, even if I know it was a playful dig at the comment I made to him when we met at the cocktail bar.

  He’s right. My career path has taken me in directions I’d never have dreamed of, and whilst being so career driven wasn’t in my original plan, I’m good at what I do and I’m enjoying it. There’s so much I have to live for and whilst my dream job is no way a replacement for Kev, it’s not exactly a booby-prize either.

  The sun has sunk below the horizon and the restaurant’s fairy lights have come on, illuminating the decked patio area like enchanted hope.

  ‘We should order some food,’ I say, glancing at the menu, which seems dull in comparison to the views all a
round me.

  ‘So, has there really been nobody else since Kev?’ Ethan’s question shocks me, and I put down the menu. I know we’ve been sharing, but my knee-jerk reaction to bristle kicks in, and I must get a grip of myself.

  ‘Nope, nobody. No dates, no calls, no online flirting. Nothing.’

  He raises both eyebrows before looking back at the menu. ‘That’s impressive.’

  ‘It helps that all the men I work with are complete knobs.’ I laugh. ‘In all seriousness, I’m not out to impress anyone; I’ve just made a promise to myself which I’m sticking to.’

  ‘Don’t you ever wonder “what if”?’

  ‘No.’ Not until recently. ‘What about you? Have you dated anyone?’

  He shuffles in his seat uncomfortably, but if he doesn’t like the question, he shouldn’t have asked me.

  ‘There have been a few dates. They were early on, and I just kept comparing the poor women to Nicole. They didn’t stand a chance. Barney and Harry tried telling me to wait and heal, but off I went anyway. I think in some ways I was just trying to fill the hole that Nicole had left in mine and Lexi’s lives, when in reality, we needed to let that wound heal first and then build on what Lexi and I had together as a duo. Now I feel like we’re ready for someone to come along. I know Lexi would love it if I met someone.’

  ‘But Harry and Barney said you’re off limits.’

  ‘Ahh, so you’ve talked about me?’ He wiggles his eyebrows and smiles mischievously.

  ‘Don’t go getting all big-headed. It just came up.’

  ‘It just came up, did it?’ He’s still grinning. I swing my napkin at him.

  ‘Harry and Barney are a little protective of me and Lexi. They want to make sure I’m ready for a relationship and don’t want me to jump into anything. They’ve seen the disasters of the past and want to make sure if and when something happens, it’s right for us both.’

  I smile at how sweet those two can be. ‘I must admit, I thought they were trying to set you and me up at first. Everywhere they sent me I saw you.’

  ‘No, they’ve been known to help singles out but they’re not really the matchmaking type. They’re actually quite reserved about things like that.’

  ‘Oh.’ Maybe I was stereotyping a little bit and I shouldn’t have.

  ‘They are good at sending business my way, though.’

  ‘Hmm, so they were just using me to boost your profits?’

  ‘Well, believe me, I did not thank them for sending me the uptight British lady with a chip on her shoulder.’ His eyes dance playfully.

  ‘Well, I didn’t thank them for sending me to the arrogant bike guy who bit my head off.’

  ‘I’m glad we’ve gotten to know one another now,’ he says in a more serious tone, and any banter between us dissolves.

  ‘I am too.’

  The waiter comes over and hovers by our table for a few moments.

  ‘Oh, we need to order.’ I look at Ethan and pull a ‘whoops’ face.

  ‘Actually, ma’am, the kitchen is closed now, but we can serve you another drink.’

  ‘Oops.’ I look at Ethan.

  He shrugs. ‘Pizza again?’

  We leave the pretty restaurant (that I would like to return to one day) and grab a takeaway pizza.

  ‘Where are going to eat this?’ Ethan says. ‘We could go to my place, but Lexi will be asleep, and my mom is there.’

  ‘How about the beach?’

  ‘Perfect.’

  The lights from the restaurant we were at illuminate the sand just enough that we can see where we’re going, and we find a spot near the shore to sit. The sand is cool and damp, and goose pimples pop on my arms.

  ‘Here, take my sweater,’ Ethan says, pulling a thin navy jumper from around his waist. I take it gratefully, and he hands me a slice of pizza. The moon is full and high above the dark water, casting its warm white glow across the calm waves.

  ‘Well, you’re a cheap date,’ I say, nudging him playfully.

  ‘I know, you got away lightly with the pizza. I was intent on the lobster back there.’ He passes me one of the beers we bought.

  I hold mine out towards him. ‘Thank you again for helping to save my career last week. You really didn’t owe me anything.’

  He clinks his bottle against mine. ‘I enjoyed it.’

  I glance sideways at him, and he’s looking at me intently.

  ‘Me too.’ Despite the jumper, a shiver runs up my spine, and I can’t tear my eyes away. I know I need to. I know I should. But I can’t.

  He brushes the hair off my face and tucks it behind my ear, then he gently takes my hand, the one holding the pizza, and moves it away from my mouth. For what seems like an age, we sit like that, looking into one another’s eyes, our faces partly lit by the moon, listening to the crash of the waves and inhaling the salty air. His hand is still clutching my pizza hand, and I want to joke about him trying to steal it, but something about this moment is so captivating that I don’t want to spoil it. Instead, I swallow and realise my mouth is dry.

  He leans in and I freeze. I know what’s coming, and I want to bolt. But simultaneously I want to feel the lips of this beautiful man on mine, just for a moment. I brace for impact, but instead of our lips colliding, it’s our foreheads. His is warm against mine. I can feel his breath on my face, slightly tinged with the smell of beer. He holds the side of my face, clasping mine to his, and I let my muscles relax. Then his nose presses against mine, nudging me into position so our mouths can meet. His hot, pillowy lips are on mine. I let it happen. When his start moving, I find mine are moving in sync. We’re kissing and it feels amazing as my senses go into overdrive, his smell, his taste and his touch. It feels like it’s supposed to. Nice. So nice I want to cry.

  So much emotion wells up inside of me that if I don’t get a grip soon, he’ll feel the tremor in my lips or hear the hitching in my breath. It feels so right, so perfect, that if I were twenty-two again I would carry on for the rest of the night – or month, depending on my uni work requirements. But I’m not twenty-two. I’m scarily (just) old enough to be a twenty-two-year-old’s mother, but that’s by-the-by. Kissing Ethan is wrong on so many levels. I must make it stop.

  Eventually, as his hand slides down my back, I pull away.

  ‘Wow,’ Ethan says.

  Panic rises up inside me. ‘This was a mistake. I’m sorry.’ I get up and run across the sand to the road. The town is eerily quiet, and when I don’t hear Ethan behind me, I relax. When I reach my hotel room I throw myself on the bed.

  The pizza is still in my hand.

  2010

  ‘What do you want?’ I try to close the door but my mum puts her hand out to stop me.

  ‘Sam, let us in,’ she pleads.

  I’d seen them at the funeral but I left before they could come over and speak to me. What the hell do they want anyway? To say ‘I told you so’?

  ‘Love, we know you’re angry with us, but let us explain.’

  I swing the door open and gesture for them to come in. They both hover for a moment, looking at each other, then my mum leads the way.

  ‘So, I guess Kev crashing his bike proved your point nicely?’ I fold my arms, unable to tell if I’m protecting myself from them or my own cutting words.

  My mum’s eyes are red and moist. ‘Sam, we didn’t mean any of those things we said. We loved Kev so much, you know we did. We were just exasperated with all the spur of the moment decisions and things. They were just words. Meaningless words.’

  She looks me in the eye and I look away. These could be meaningless words too, or words born from guilt. Guilt of getting caught and guilt of Kev’s death.

  ‘Do you know what?’ My voice trembles. ‘Kev wasn’t even bothered by what you’d said. He laughed and said you wouldn’t have meant it seriously. He thought I was silly to keep cutting you off.’

  I catch my mum smile. ‘That was Kev.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I say bitterly. ‘Too good for any of us.’

/>   There’s a moment of silent agreement from the three of us.

  ‘Sam, we should come together,’ my dad says. It hurts to look at them because deep down I love them and I know they’re hurting but I can’t forgive the things they said. Not now.

  ‘What hurts the most, is that I know you loved Kev, I know you thought of him as a son and yet you still said those things.’ I slump onto the sofa.

  ‘We all say things we don’t mean. I called your father a lazy lummox to my friend once but it doesn’t mean I don’t love him,’ my mum pleads.

  ‘Calling Dad lazy, isn’t exactly the same as saying you hoped Kev and I would be divorced by now.’

  ‘We didn’t say that.’

  ‘Semantics,’ I bark.

  ‘Let us help you come to terms with this,’ my dad says.

  ‘You could move in with us.’ My mum puts her chubby hand on my shoulder, but I continue to stare at the same piece of peeling wallpaper that I’ve been looking at since she arrived. I’m empty. ‘Look, love, I don’t mean forever. Just let me and your dad look after you for a while, make you some proper meals, fend off the condolences for a bit, keep the well-meaning neighbours away.’ She moves her hand down my arm and gives it a rub. It incenses me. I shuffle further up the sofa. Out of reach.

  ‘You have to let us help you.’ It’s my dad’s turn to speak. His tone is pleading.

  If I have to listen to them any longer, I’m going to explode. As if a few home-cooked dinners are enough to fill the enormous hole Kev has left in my life. I can’t stand their pity any longer. It’s like my insides have been scooped out. All the warmth and love I ever had has gone. I’m a hollow shell, slowly filling with rage and hatred for everyone and everything that has the audacity to carry on living in a world where Kev does not.

  ‘Are you kidding?’ My mum and dad look taken aback, like they actually thought I was considering their offer.

  ‘The two people who didn’t think Kev was good enough for me want to help me get over his death?’ I let out a small, dry laugh, ‘You’re always trying to control everything! Where Kev and I went on holiday, what we spent our money on, and now my grief! Just leave me alone!’