Unfinished Business

by Roxanne Hensley

  Karen passed Gina a box of tissues, and Gina thanked her as she pulled out a white square and balled it in her fist. “I’ve replayed the accident over in my mind countless times, and every time, I can only blame myself.”

  “But you know it’s not your fault,” Adrian said. “Sometimes a car, or a semi, comes out of nowhere.” She crossed her arms over her chest, shrinking under the intense gaze from the group.

  “You’re right, but my problem is I’d been sending a text to one of the other gymnastics moms, saying we were running late. I should have let Steve drive. He knew I was distracted and hated feeling rushed. I looked down one moment to send that stupid text and the next, we were crashing into a car, my whole life gone in a flash.”

  “You’re still here, aren’t you?” Susan said. “You can’t say your life is gone.”

  “What happened to your husband?” Adrian asked.

  “Well, he survived. Barely. But we didn’t.” Gina dabbed her face with the tissue. “We drifted apart about six months after Trudy died. I guess we reminded each other too much of what we’d lost. That and I didn’t always look this way.” She gestured to her round figure. “I’m not sure how I can ever forgive myself for—” Her voice cracked, and she seemed unable to say more.

  Karen reached over and rubbed Gina’s back. “It’s okay. Let it out.”

  “I wish I could go back and tell myself to let Steve drive or not send that text, or—”

  “Put down the cake?” Frank said. Susan giggled.

  Gina’s eyes bulged. “Yes, that too, Frank.” She laughed nervously, breaking the tension in the group.

  “Honey, you know I love you.” Frank blew her a kiss. “But you gotta stop blaming yourself for this. Look at what it’s done to you.”

  “I know.” Gina sniffled.

  “It’s not healthy,” Frank added.

  “Frank’s right,” Karen said.

  “I mean, at least you had a daughter.” Adrian said. “Some people never get that chance.”

  Christian shifted in his chair next to Adrian.

  “Tell me more about Trudy,” Adrian said.

  “Trudy was my mini-me,” Gina said. “But she was full of beans, very charismatic, and didn’t know a stranger. She got that from Steve. She would go up to people and just sing to them. One time, I found her surrounded by neighbors as she sang them Christmas carols. In August, no less.” She giggled. “Everyone was in total awe of her everywhere she went. She had a pure heart, a big toothy smile, and it was hard to stay mad at her. I was so proud to be her momma. Still am, I guess.”

  “Just because your child is gone doesn’t mean you’re not a mom anymore,” Karen said.

  “Or a woman,” Frank added.

  “Frank’s right, honey,” Henry said. Adrian would have thought Henry was in his 40s had it not been for his white hair. His smooth cocoa skin barely had any signs of age. “Trudy wouldn’t want this for her momma.”

  “I’ve been going to yoga three times a week. Do you want to join me?” Karen asked.

  “I think that would be nice. Thank you.” Gina smiled at Karen.

  As the group expressed words of encouragement to Gina, Adrian imagined Trudy in her mind from Gina’s description. She could see her vividly, crossing over into Heaven and being greeted by the little girl as they chased each other through the daffodils, laughing until their sides hurt. She felt compelled to bring the vision into their reality, perhaps even share it with Gina. Maybe she would at the next meeting.

  Was she already committing to next time?

  “Anyone else have something they’d like to share? Adrian?” Karen said.

  Adrian shook her head.

  “Okay, well, let’s talk a moment about the word forgiveness. For some, this can trigger anger or resentment toward the person we lost or ourselves. Does that resonate with anyone?”

  “Yeah, I’m angry,” Adrian said. “In fact, I’m angry at my husband and myself.” Her eyebrows raised. She’d surprised herself with the honesty in front of strangers. “How could I be so stupid to ignore the signs that he was cheating? Then he goes and dies, almost taking me with him, and everyone is like, ‘Oh, Brad was such a great husband,’ and ‘Oh, what a huge loss. You must be devastated.’ What a bunch of crap. What about me? I wish someone would tell me how stupid I am. How I was so baby-crazed I missed my marriage falling apart. And now he’s some kind of martyr, and I’m left to pick up the pieces.”

  “Okay, you’re stupid,” Frank said. “But I was stupid too. Grant cheated on me, contracted HIV, and I was left with the impossible choice of taking care of him while he died or deserting him when he needed someone the most. That last year was hard.”

  “Are you…?” Adrian asked.

  “Positive? No, we hadn’t slept together in months,” Frank said. “It’s hard to take off the rose-colored glasses when it comes to those we love or once loved. I was blind to the issues we had too.”

  “You’re a better person than me, I guess,” Adrian said.

  “No, I’m not.” Frank leaned forward in his chair. “I realized that Grant would die, and I’d have to live with the consequences of what I did or didn’t do. I decided to be the bigger person. I wanted to leave and run so many times, but I couldn’t. My momma raised me better than that.”

  Adrian paused. “How did you make peace with it all?”

  “I’ll tell you when I do,” Frank said.

  “That’s why we’re all here, hon,” Henry said.

  “You’re not alone,” Karen said. Others nodded in agreement.

  Adrian looked around at the group of people who were vastly different but shared a common thread that held them together. She felt a weight lift off her chest. “Thank you.” She held her breath, willing herself not to cry from the relief of being honest. Being real. She felt one step closer to healing, although she still had a long way to go.

  After the meeting broke, Adrian stopped by the carafe to refill her small cup of coffee. Christian approached her, grabbing a cup for himself.

  “Adrian Russo,” he said.

  “Foley now.” She turned to look at him, his hazel eyes piercing her heart. Her breath caught in her throat.

  “It’s been a long time.” He dusted his coffee with powdered creamer.

  “Yeah, I guess it has…” She trailed off. She felt rude not being able to place him, as he was definitely someone she shouldn’t forget.

  “You don’t remember me, do you?” He smiled and his teeth were perfectly straight.

  She grimaced. “Honestly, no. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Not many people do. I’ve changed a lot in the last few years. I’m Christian…Stephens.”

  The Christian Stephens Adrian remembered was skinny as a rail with coke bottle glasses. Nothing like the man standing in front of her. His broad shoulders perfectly filled out his blazer, and she could see his defined pecs peeking through a white collared shirt. “Wow, you look…different.” Could she be any less eloquent?

  “And you are just as I remember.” He smiled.

  They locked eyes, and Adrian’s skin prickled with electricity.

  “Hey, Adrian,” Karen said. “Thanks for being brave today.” She squeezed Adrian’s shoulder. “We’ll see you next week?”

  “Yes, I’ll be here.” She didn’t take her eyes from Christian’s.

  Christian’s phone rang, and Karen left to talk to Henry. “I gotta take this, but it was great seeing you again,” he said. “Sounds like I’ll see you next week?”

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t miss you. I mean, miss it.” Oh Lord. Her face flushed.

  He smiled and answered the phone. She heard a high-pitched female voice on the other end, babbling. She watched Christian walk away, and he turned to look at her one more time before rounding the corner toward his car.

  She’d known the odds of running into an old classmate were high when she moved back. She never would have guessed she’d have a reunion at group therapy and never suspected Christian would
have turned out the way he did. She wondered about his story, seeing the same thread of pain in his eyes when they looked at one another.

  Which, in all honesty, she wanted to keep doing. That caught her by surprise. The dirt on Brad’s grave had barely settled. Could she even entertain the idea of moving on? But it wasn’t like she would have predicted her life to make the twists and turns it had recently, and at some point, she needed to move on.

  And to her relief, she didn’t need to figure it all out right then.

  If the last few months had taught her anything, it was to expect the unexpected, and she silently thanked the Universe for making her first reunion with a former classmate surprisingly good.

  “Oh shoot. I just realized what day it was and you’re probably at group,” Bev said when Christian answered.

  “No, your timing is fine. We just finished. What’s up?”

  “I was calling to let you know I can’t do dinner tonight. Margie is having us girls over to her place.”

  Christian had a standing appointment with his aunt Bev every Thursday after group therapy for dinner. He’d started the tradition after his uncle Jim died two years before. He did his best to stave off Bev’s loneliness as much as possible.

  “Oh, that’s okay. I’ll just pick up a pizza or something.” Christian hadn’t realized how much he’d looked forward to their weekly dinners too. Sometimes the emptiness of his apartment hit him hard, especially after group.

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” He cleared his throat as he unlocked the car and slid into the driver’s seat. “What’s the occasion?

  “Her daughter just moved back. You remember Adrian, don’t you?”

  Oh, he definitely did. Seeing Adrian had caught him completely off-guard. She looked exactly like he remembered her, a beautiful blast from his past.

  “Christian?”

  “Sorry, cutting over to Bluetooth.” He scrambled to turn on the car. “Yeah, I just ran into her actually.”

  “Where? At group?”

  “Yeah, she was sitting in the circle when I arrived.” And sitting next to her did nothing to help his concentration, but he decided to keep that to himself.

  “Well?”

  “Well, what?” he replied.

  “Did you talk to her?”

  “Yeah, I told her it was nice to see her again.” Which was true but also a severe understatement.

  “I like the sound of this.”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  Christian sighed. “Anything else?”

  “Yeah, don’t go back to work tonight because we’re not having dinner. Life’s too short to work as hard as you do.”

  She knew him far too well. He had already planned on heading back to catch up on his paperwork and prepare for court on Friday. After all, that’s what Uncle Jim would have done if he were still there. “Okay, Auntie. Have a good time tonight with the girls.”

  “I will, and I’ll put in a good word for you with you-know-who.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Bye!” She hung up.

  He couldn’t help but chuckle at his aunt’s behavior. Who needed a dating website or matchmaker when there was Aunt Bev? Seeing Adrian had been a defibrillator for his dormant heart, and he felt sick with nerves when she smiled at him. Maybe he actually stood a chance? He certainly wasn’t an awkward teenager anymore.

  Not that he was ready to date after what had happened.

  He pulled into a parking spot to pick up dinner from Sal’s, his favorite pizza place. Adrian’s image flashed in his mind. He considered the possibility of being shirtless in front of a woman again in the relative near future and thought he’d better skip the pizza. Even if the opportunity presented itself, was he ready for it? There hadn’t been anyone since Sarah. After what she did to him, he’d put his heart in a box on a shelf for safe keeping, vowing to never let a woman hurt him that way again.

  But Adrian wasn’t just anyone. She was the it-girl, the one he’d pined after for years in high school but never mustered up enough courage to do anything about it. It seemed like the Universe was conspiring in his favor, giving him an opportunity to do things differently the next time around. He’d grown and changed quite a bit since then, and he wanted to discover how Adrian had changed too.

  After ordering a salad and baked ziti to go, he headed toward home, considering how he would handle the second chance with his dream girl.

  10

  “Do you need help with that?” Adrian asked.

  “No, I’ve got it,” Margaret said. She took a pan of brownies out of the oven. Their rich, intoxicating smell wafted through the kitchen. “They should be here any minute.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind me staying?”

  “No, it’s fine.” Margaret pushed a loose strand of hair away from her face. “As long as you don’t mind hanging out with three old broads.”

  “I’d love to meet your friends.”

  Adrian set the table for four, each place setting flanked by water and wine glasses, while Margaret turned the television to a jazz standards music station. Adrian felt relieved to hear Old Blue-Eyes croon about the moon instead of the angry chatter from the news.

  “So, what do you typically do when they come over?”

  “We play cards and gossip.” Margaret smiled. “We usually try out new recipes. They know how much I like to bake, so they leave me in charge of dessert.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Adrian’s stomach growled, and she eyed the brownies while she considered skipping straight to dessert.

  The doorbell rang, and Margaret greeted her girlfriends warmly. As they crossed the threshold, Adrian knew immediately who was who. Gilda, a tall, lanky redhead with a short bob reminiscent of a flapper, held a bowl of chicken pesto pasta in her arms with a navy towel wrapped around it to keep it warm. Bev, a short, stocky brunette wearing a blue knitted cap and a heavy charcoal cardigan that was overkill for temperatures in the 70s, held a salad bowl with a loaf of French bread on top. Just like her mother, Margaret’s friends were obviously still concerned with their appearances. They both still dyed their hair—what was left of it anyway—and they both wore makeup, although Gilda had on significantly more than Bev.

  “This must be Adrian,” Gilda said. She reminded Adrian of a phoenix with her beak-like nose and dark beady eyes. “She’s more beautiful than you lead on, Margie.”

  Adrian blushed. “Thank you.” She took the salad from Bev and set it on the counter, and Gilda followed close behind with her pasta. “Does the pasta need to be heated up at all?”

  “No, it should be fine as long as we’re ready to eat.”

  Adrian nodded and started dishing out portions on her mother’s white Corelle plates.

  “Did you remember the…?” Margaret asked her friends, raising an eyebrow.

  “Of course! It wouldn’t be a dinner party without it.” Gilda winked. “How are you holding up, Margie?” She placed a hand on Margaret’s shoulder. “What did your doctor say about forgoing treatment? Has the cancer spread?”

  “Spread?” Adrian dropped the tongs in the salad bowl. “No treatment? What is she talking about, Ma?”

  The room grew eerily quiet except for Satchmo’s trumpet in the background. “You haven’t told her?” Bev asked, her mouth hanging open like a sea bass.

  Margaret shook her head, looking down at the ground.

  Gilda grimaced, apparently feeling like she’d done something she shouldn’t have.

  The proverbial pin dropped while Adrian waited for Margaret to say something. Anything. Maybe Gilda had her confused with someone else. Why would her mother choose to do nothing about her diagnosis? She’d always been a fighter. Why stop now? Worry, disappointment and anger swirled in her stomach. “Ma?”

  “I guess you’re going to find out eventually.” Margaret gave Gilda a pointed look. “My cancer is aggressive, and I’ve decided not to do chemo or
any other kind of treatment.”

  Bev reached out and touched Margaret’s arm in a comforting way.

  “Were you ever going to tell me?” Adrian felt nauseous with betrayal from hearing her mother’s decision to give up. So many questions swirled around in her mind: How long did they have left? Why had Margaret kept Adrian in the dark? Was there any way she’d change her mind?

  “Let’s discuss this later. We have guests,” Margaret said through a thin smile.

  Adrian stared in disbelief. She really expected her to sweep it under the rug— pretend like it didn’t exist? She might be able to do that but not Adrian.

  Gilda mumbled an apology, and Margaret brushed it off, saying there was no need. “Adrian, do you mind plating our meals?” Her intense gaze said Adrian better drop the subject.

  Adrian hesitated and then nodded. Her mother had instilled in her to never make a scene in public, and while they were at home, she didn’t want to embarrass her mother in front of her friends. She knew how much Margaret’s reputation meant to her, so Adrian decided to set it all aside until they were alone. But not before giving her a look meant to convey that it definitely wasn’t the end of the conversation.

  Adrian stayed quiet through the majority of the meal, pushing food from one side of her plate to another. She couldn’t stop thinking about her mother’s lack of fight, and the severity of the diagnosis. Margaret gave her a look out of the corner of her eye, one Adrian hadn’t seen since she was a little girl. Adrian reluctantly took a bite, forcing herself to compartmentalize her thoughts and feelings while they had company.

  She listened to the women gossip about people in the neighborhood, trying to keep up with their fast chatter and cast of characters. Adrian learned both Bev and Gilda were cancer survivors, with their respective breast and skin cancers thankfully in remission. Bev grew accustomed to knitting herself stylish hats while her hair regrew and couldn’t shake the habit after she kicked the cancer. Gilda decided to keep her hair short, and said long hair just got in the way of everything. Adrian combed her fingers through her hair, thinking about Gilda’s words. Her hair felt soft, and she really appreciated its length. She could put it up, leave it down, braid it…her thoughts trailed off as she realized conversation had come to a halt, with all eyes on her.