by Teresa Roman
I took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Maybe divorce is worse. Especially when it’s long and drawn out and the person you’re getting divorced from hurt you and betrayed you,” I said. In some ways, divorce seemed a lot like death, except instead of losing the person you cared about suddenly, you lost them slowly, bit by bit over days, weeks, and months. Sure, their physical body was still around, but who they once were was gone. “Don’t get me wrong, getting that call from the emergency room about Ryan’s car crash was hard. But the truth is, we didn’t have that great a marriage, so I still don’t really know what to feel about him being gone.” I couldn’t believe I’d just confessed that, but I felt like I had to. I didn’t want him getting the wrong idea that I was some grieving widow who’d lost her one true love, because it wasn’t like that at all. Maybe he’d think I was a bad person, but I believed in honesty.
“You mean he wasn’t the love of your life?” Alex sounded genuinely surprised.
“No.” I shook my head. If someone had asked me that question ten years ago, I would’ve answered differently. Back then, I had all sorts of silly romantic notions, but now I didn’t think I even believed in that kind of love anymore. “Why? Was Kristi yours?”
“No,” he said decisively. “She wasn’t.”
I had a sudden overwhelming desire to make things right for Alex. Not that I knew how, and even if I did, it was a bad idea. That was what I’d hoped to do with Ryan, but I’d failed miserably. I seemed to attract broken people and then set myself to the task of fixing them.
When Ryan and I had first met, I remembered thinking I’d never known anyone who seemed as lonely as he did. I wanted to save him from that sadness. When he talked about his family, I could relate because my situation wasn’t all that different from his.
He hadn’t grown up in Sacramento. Instead, he’d come here for college, but he wasn’t really sure what he’d wanted to study, which was why it took him until he was twenty-five to graduate. In the seven years he’d been in Sacramento before we’d met, he’d only made a handful of friends, and they weren’t close ones. That should’ve been a huge red flag for me, but instead, I decided it was everyone else’s fault. He would’ve had more friends if people had given him a chance. Back then, I was so smitten with Ryan that I hadn’t realized the truth. His temper drove people away. It was always the same scenario. Ryan would become friends with someone. He’d invite them over to dinner. They’d hang out for a while, and then something would get Ryan upset, and he’d speak his mind and say things that made me gasp even though I’d seen the same situation play out time and time again. Ryan seemed to have no idea that words mattered. That you couldn’t just say whatever you felt like without consequences.
I wound up being the one that filled the empty space in Ryan’s life. Because of me, he wasn’t alone anymore. I’d saved him, and I liked that. It made me feel important, like I was his own personal hero. Over time, I realized the notion of saving someone was completely foolish.
“Not to change the conversation too drastically,” Alex said, pulling me out of my thoughts, “but, um, when do you think we’ll be able to start this workout partner thing?”
“Give me another week. I need to arrange a few things with my work schedule.”
“Okay, that sounds good.” Alex reached around the back of his chair for his jacket. “I better get going, but I’ll see you next week. Right? Eight thirty. At the gym. I’m holding you to it.”
I smiled. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”
I watched as Alex walked out the door and over to his car, a gunmetal-gray Honda SUV.
Workout buddies? What had I just agreed to? I didn’t like the way my body responded to him every time I was in his presence. That didn’t bode well for me.
Marla came over for dinner later that evening. I hadn’t planned on telling her about agreeing to be Alex’s workout buddy, but since we did go to the gym together occasionally, I figured that eventually she’d find out, so I shared the news over spaghetti and salad.
“Workout buddies?” She gave me a quizzical look. “Doesn’t that mean you two will be seeing each other quite a bit.”
I knew what she was hinting at.
“As friends,” I reminded her. “Nothing more.”
“Who’s Alex?” Lydia asked.
“Just an old friend from high school that I ran into a few weeks ago.”
“Is Alex a girl or boy?” Jacob asked.
“Alex is a he,” I replied.
“Oooh, Mommy’s got a boyfriend,” Lydia said in a singsongy voice.
“He is not my boyfriend,” I said, making sure to keep my voice soft so Marla wouldn’t accuse me of protesting too much.
“He’s a boy, and he’s your friend,” Jacob said. “So, technically, he is your boyfriend.”
I glanced at Marla. “A little help here.”
“You’re on your own,” she said before lifting a forkful of pasta into her mouth.
“Let’s talk about something else,” I said.
“Great idea,” Marla agreed, finally coming to my aid. “Guess where Caleb is having his birthday party?” Caleb was one of Marla’s three kids. The middle child. His older sister was Abby, and his little brother was Caden.
“Bounce High?” Lydia asked, eagerly. She couldn’t get enough of bounce houses. Bounce High was where she’d had her last two birthday parties.
“Nope, he’s going to have a bowling party.”
Lydia frowned. “I don’t know how to bowl.”
“It’s super easy. I can teach you.” Marla reached into her purse and pulled out an invitation.
Thankfully, talking about Caleb’s upcoming birthday party was enough to stop all discussion of Mommy having a boyfriend.
As Marla chatted with Jacob and Lydia about the special shoes you got for bowling, I sat there, imagining what my kids would think if I really did start dating. Neither Jacob nor Lydia seemed upset about the idea, but that’s because they’d just been joking around about it. It would probably be a different story if I really did meet someone. Not that I wanted to or ever planned on it.
Still, I couldn’t help but wonder.
11
It had been almost three months since Ryan died, and I kept waiting for Jacob or Lydia to show me or tell me something that would clue me in about how they felt about their dad being gone. I’d begun to think that maybe they were just exceptionally good at adjusting to their new reality. Then one night, I woke up to the sound of a bloodcurdling scream coming from Lydia’s room. I jumped out of bed and ran down to her room. I flicked on the light switch to find her sitting up in bed, tears streaming down her face.
“What happened? Did you have a bad dream?” I asked, wrapping my arms around her.
She was crying so hard she couldn’t even speak. Instead, she just nodded her little head.
“Can you tell me what it was about?”
It took her a few minutes to calm down enough to get words out. “It was about Daddy and the car crash,” she managed to say. “I was in the car with him, and there were bad guys chasing us, and that’s why Daddy crashed the car.”
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.” I let go of her and wiped her tearstained cheeks with my fingertips. “I know you miss your daddy and that you’re scared because he isn’t here anymore, but I promise you there are no bad guys. What happened to your father, it was an accident.”
“I … I know,” she said as another round of tears streamed down her cheeks. “But it was so real.”
“Listen to me.” I waited for her to look into my eyes. “Mommy would never let anything bad happen to you. You believe me, right?”
Lydia nodded. I kissed the top of her head and hugged her again, maybe just a little bit too tightly, but I couldn’t help it. She was my little girl, my baby, despite being almost seven. For a few minutes, we just sat there. I stroked her hair until I felt the fear leaving her little body.
“You think you’re ready to try and go back to sleep?” I asked, m
y voice soft.
She looked up and stared at me with sad eyes still red from crying. “Can I sleep next to you?”
How could I say no? “Okay.” I smiled at her then scooped her into my arms and carried her down the hallway and into my bedroom. Once she was under the covers, I turned the light off.
“Mommy,” she said a few minutes after settling in beside me.
“What is it, honey?”
“I miss Daddy.”
I hugged her tighter. “I know you do. I’m so sorry that he’s not with us anymore, sweetness.”
“I’ll always have you, though, right?”
“Of course you will,” I said, kissing her soft little cheek.
Lydia let out a deep sigh. My room never got completely dark because of the light that streamed in from the streetlamps outside. I waited for my little girl to close her eyes. Then I watched her chest rise and fall with each breath she took. God, I loved my kids so much. I often wondered if other parents felt the same way I did. Ryan resented how much I doted on Jacob and Lydia because it took attention away from him. He’d get mad over stupid stuff like whenever I made the kids’ favorite dinner instead of his.
“You’re a grown-up,” I used to tell him. “If you don’t like what I made, you can always cook something else for yourself. The kids can’t.”
Sometimes he felt like a third child instead of a husband. He exhausted me with his endless demands. When we were newlyweds and before we had kids, I did my best to meet every single one of them, but eventually I realized I’d never succeed. No matter how hard I tried, Ryan would complain that I didn’t truly love him, that I probably didn’t want to be married to him, that I was interested in someone else. He had an endless list of complaints. One day it hit me. Ryan was perennially dissatisfied. Nothing would ever be enough for him.
I hoped Lydia’s nightmare would be a one-time thing, but a few nights later, she had another one and then again a few days after that. It took twice as long to calm her down.
“Honey, you’ve got school in the morning. You’ve got to go back to sleep.”
“But I can’t sleep without you.”
So I brought her into bed with me again.
I woke up the next morning feeling like a zombie and prayed that this didn’t become a regular thing. I didn’t do well with less than six hours of sleep. I still vividly remembered when the kids were younger and would sometimes get high fevers or throw up when they got sick. I’d be up all night worrying and stuffing load after load of vomit-covered sheets into the washing machine. It was dreadful. Now that they were older, it was nice getting to sleep through the night. I did not want to go back to those days.
Despite being wickedly tired, I dropped the kids off at school and headed to the gym. After leaving my purse in the locker room, I searched for Alex and found him in the cardio room.
“You’re going to have to take it easy on me today,” I told him. “I’ve had less than six hours of sleep.”
His eyes filled with concern. “Why, what happened?”
I explained about Lydia’s nightmares.
“Has she been having them ever since your husband died?”
I shook my head and then hopped onto a stationary bike, the only machine I could manage given my combination of sleep deprivation and poor fitness after skipping the gym for so many months. “No, for some strange reason, they just started. But this is the third one she’s had over the past week. I’m not really sure what to do.”
Alex took the bike beside me. “Maybe what she needs is some one-on-one time with you,” he suggested.
In theory, it was a great idea. I wondered why I hadn’t thought of it on my own. The one problem with Alex’s suggestion was who would watch Jacob? I supposed I could ask Marla or Lynette, but then Jacob would wonder what I was up to with Lydia. If I spent one-on-one time with Lydia, I’d have to do the same for Jacob. That was only fair. I didn’t explain that to Alex, though. He didn’t have children of his own, so I doubted he’d understand. Instead, I gave him a weak smile. “I’m sure it’s just a temporary thing,” I said, hoping I was right. If I wasn’t, then I really would have to give Alex’s suggestion some serious consideration.
“You think you’re up for some weight training?” Alex asked after we pedaled in silence for a few minutes.
“Yeah,” I replied, breathless from pedaling.
“Five more minutes of warm-up, and then let’s go do some arms.”
I followed Alex’s lead. He seemed to know a lot more about fitness than I did. I took turns with him on the bicep machine, trying not to notice how amazingly well sculpted his arms were. I couldn’t help but imagine what the rest of him looked like under his T-shirt and shorts.
We moved on to a machine I’d never used before. The sticker pasted to it read: Lat Pulldown. Whatever that was. Despite Alex’s demonstration, I could tell I was not doing it right. He placed his hand on the small of my back, helping me with my posture. The weird thumping thing my heart sometimes did around him returned. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, wondering if he felt what I was feeling and if I could find the answer in his expression.
The only thing I saw was his intent focus on making sure I had the right form. “I don’t want you to get injured,” he said.
Right. I didn’t want that either. I reminded myself again that we were just friends. I hadn’t had a platonic relationship with a man in so long that I forgot how things were supposed to work. I wasn’t supposed to be lusting after him. I wondered what Alex would say if I asked him for some benefits to go along with our friendship. Not that I ever would. I’d never been a one-night-stand or sex-without-commitment type of woman. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d take me up on the offer.
I managed to make it through the rest of our workout session without letting my mind travel to places it had no business going. When we were finished, I grabbed my purse from the locker I’d stashed it in and met Alex in the small lounge area near the entrance to the gym.
“You all right?” he asked. “I didn’t work you out too hard, did I?”
“No. I’m good.”
“C’mon,” he said, holding the door open for me. “Let me walk you to your car.”
I followed him outside. In the hour since I’d arrived at the gym, it had warmed up nicely. Sacramento was one of those places where you used the heater in the morning and the air conditioning at night. Well into the summer, mornings could be downright chilly even on days when temperatures soared into the eighties later.
“Are we still on for tomorrow?” he asked as I pulled my car keys out of my purse.
“I think so.” I opened the door. “Depends on how sore I am.”
“We’ll work on legs tomorrow so your arms can rest.”
“Well, in that case, I wouldn’t want to miss it,” I said sarcastically.
“Just consider it a favor for an old friend,” Alex said with a heart-melting grin. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d have walked out of the gym halfway through today’s workout.”
“Yeah, I’m a regular Jillian Michaels,” I said, referring to the hard-core trainer on some reality show I used to watch every now and then. Alex just smiled again. I got into my car and pulled out of the parking lot, noticing that he stood there watching.
The next morning, I woke up sore just like I knew I would, but I powered through another workout session with Alex anyway. Not because I particularly felt like it, but because I wanted to see Alex again. By the end of the week, I’d decided there was nothing wrong with admiring him from afar. My imagination was about the only place I’d be getting it on with him, but it was safe there. Eventually, Alex would heal from his divorce, and then he’d find himself ready to date again. He would leave the safe harbor my friendship offered and venture into more adventurous waters, but I was mature enough to deal with that when it happened. For now, I appreciated the way things were, and I decided to not think about the inevitable change that was bound to come.
T
his was the smoothest my life had been in a long time, and I planned on enjoying the ride for as long as I could.
12
Another week went by. On Friday, after picking the kids up from school, I emptied out their backpacks just like I always did, sorting through their homework assignments, tests, and art projects from the week. Mixed up in all that stuff was a flyer that read: “Annual Father-Son Event.”
I laid it down on the table, wondering if Jacob had seen it. He’d gone with his father every year since kindergarten. The event consisted of dodgeball in the school’s gymnasium, accompanied by top-forty hits, junk food, and socializing. Tickets to the event sold out every year. By Monday, there’d be posters all over the school grounds, promoting it, if they weren’t already up. Even if I threw the flyer in the trash, there was no way Jacob wouldn’t realize that it was that time of year. How would he feel when his buddies talked about it at recess and he had nothing to add to the conversation?
I decided to find out. I headed down the hallway and knocked on his bedroom door. “Can I come in?”
He was lying on his bed, watching YouTube videos on his tablet. “Yeah,” he said, sitting up.
I took a seat beside him and handed him the flyer. “How do you feel about this?”
Jacob just shrugged and laid the flyer on the bed beside him. “I don’t feel anything about it.”
“You went with your father every year—”
“Because he made me. I never even wanted to go.”
That came as a surprise to me. I frowned. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“Because you know how Daddy was. I didn’t want him to get mad at me, so I just went. And besides, they had Doritos, so it was okay.”
“You’re saying you only went so Daddy wouldn’t get mad?”
He nodded. “And for the Doritos.”
I knew Jacob was trying to be funny by mentioning the Doritos, but I couldn’t bring myself to laugh. I hated that he’d felt forced into doing something he didn’t want to just to keep his father from getting upset.
