A Widow Redefined (11 page)

I looked down at him and smiled. He was right. It was time for my son to experience the unconditional love of an animal. I’d have to look into it soon.

We walked inside and took off our shoes and jackets.

“I asked Dad to send happiness your way,” Tyler said. “And look—it worked. You’ve already got a new friend.”

I nodded and smiled at Tyler. A new friend. Yes, but that was the outer facade. Inside, I was free-falling through the Twilight Zone, spinning and disoriented.

Something about what he’d just said, and the way he said it rang true, but I wasn’t ready to accept it.

I pushed the concept from my mind, trying to regain mental balance as I did the dishes. Somehow I managed to wash the whole stack without breaking any. It was miraculous.

After Tyler went to bed, I decided to switch my focus. I went online to research dogs. How to pick the right one for us, how much did food and vet bills run. I quickly learned that millions of dogs and cats were euthanized each year because they weren’t adopted. That settled it. We’d get a shelter dog as soon as the gym membership ended.

The next day at work, I told Barb my plan. “I’m planning to adopt a dog soon. You have any idea how much vet bills might be?”

She looked perplexed. “That depends, sweetie. It varies so much, depending on what health issues the animal has. With Shadow, for instance, and the cancer… “

Barb stopped mid-sentence, and began fidgeting with her hands. “Well, what you need to do is buy pet insurance. They have policies with three levels: basic, regular, and deluxe.”

“Okay,” I said, truly appreciating her advice. “I’ll do that.”

As Barb walked away I felt terrible. She couldn’t even talk about her
dog
having cancer in front of me. I was growing tired of making people uncomfortable. Although I was still struggling with depression, I didn’t want to appear pitiful. I made a mental note to try and be more of my old self again, which I might be able to do, if only I could remember who she was.

That night, I curled up in bed, wearing my comfiest pajamas. As I lay in the dark, I wondered: Do I pity myself?

I considered the way I interacted with others. I didn’t think so. I was unhappy to be a widow, to be in this position, but I wasn’t aware of anything I was doing to appear pitiful.

I turned over and fluffed my pillow. I guess if I really wanted to be honest with myself, I’d have to admit I was doing one thing that invited pity. I was grieving too long, or at least longer than what my friends and co-workers thought was appropriate. Part of me felt angry at them. I mean, I didn’t know there was a time limit on these things. Was I supposed to just pretend I’m okay when I’m not?

They didn’t have a clue.

Sadly, my friends were the first to go after Justin’s death. After the cheering up campaign was unsuccessful, they began calling less and less. Sometimes I went along with them, because I felt I should. But there’s nothing lamer than hanging out with a single mom who’s also a widow. Add broke to the mix and you’ve got yourself a genuine friend deflector—I couldn’t blame them.

My co-workers were a bit more patient with me. Or maybe they had to be, since they had to sit next to me each day to receive their paychecks. It wasn’t like we hung out in our free time. They’d invited me, though. And in time, tried to ease me back into life with casual mentions of single men they knew.

My family, on the other hand, was always there for me. I never felt judged for going to the cemetery. They never tried fixing me up with someone else. They just let me be. I guess since Tyler didn’t know I still visited Justin, what it really meant was that my mom was there for me. She was amazing.

I felt terrible not confiding in her about Sabrina.

As the evening went on, I lay awake, thinking about Tyler talking to his dad, how he’d wished happiness for me. My sad life must be obvious if even a child could notice.

Of course, there was Sabrina, my new “friend” bringing me happiness. I looked over at the alarm clock. Even at one in the morning I could be a smartass. She wasn’t a real friend. When you’re friends with someone it’s supposed to be fun, not filled with a general sense of foreboding.

Maybe I was pitiful.

I pulled the comforter over my head, trying to make it all go away.

It didn’t. And I couldn’t sleep. I went to the kitchen, poured myself a glass of orange juice, and sat down at the computer to research pet insurance.

I settled on ASPCA pet insurance. I knew the prices, and had all the info on pet food. Soon we would be dog owners.

The next morning I decided to spill the good news to Tyler, as he got ready for school.

“So I’ve thought about your request to get a dog.”

My son’s eyes popped open and he stopped brushing his teeth.

“And I think it’s a good idea,” I told him.

Tyler began jumping up and down, then attempted to speak, but choked on a mouthful of paste. He quickly spit it out and rinsed.

“We’re really gonna get one?”

The look on his face could have made any problem in the world melt away.

“Yes,” I replied. “But there’s a minor glitch.”

He stared at me, without blinking.

“We have to wait a little bit to be able to afford it. Then we can go to the shelter and adopt any dog you choose.”

Tyler threw his arms around me and hugged me tighter than he ever had. After letting go, I felt the urge to jump up and down, too. We both started hooting and hurray-ing.

Mom walked past. “What’s going on here?”

“Grandma. We’re getting a dog!”

A smile broke out and stretched the length of my mom’s face. Not only would she like a dog, she’d prefer a whole pack of them, maybe even a cat or bird, too. We’d always had a pet in the home while I was growing up.

“This is good news, honey,” she said, rubbing Tyler’s head.

It felt wonderful to start the day off that way. I knew Tyler would be anxious to tell Josephine. Luckily, he would only have to wait until tonight.

I ate breakfast and hopped into the shower. Then I rummaged through the closet, looking for something to wear. My eyes caught sight of the hanging bag Sabrina had given me.

I still had one new outfit left, so I took it out and tried it on, admiring my reflection in the mirror.

I looked nice. Even my figure looked better. Must be the cut and quality of the fabric, I thought.

Then my mind drifted off, wondering what the true cost was. I ran my fingers through my hair, and promised myself no matter what it took, I’d find out.

•••••

Driving to work I felt confident and happy. I didn’t know if it was the new wardrobe, or if it was the anticipation of getting a family pet, but I felt good.

I clocked in and noticed Dave was having a meeting with one of our top clients. I quickly sat down, then Fatima passed by with a cup of coffee.

“Amy, you look hot,” she said.

I blushed. Okay, I’ll admit it, sometimes young people were kind of fun, too.

“Thanks,” I whispered, trying to keep it down.

Fatima leaned forward to talk. “You know, I went to Target and I couldn’t find any of the pieces you bought.”

I got nervous, remembering the white lie. “No? Well, I’ll bet they sold out. You know how those things are.”

“It’s cool,” she said. “But hey, since you’re so lucky lately, maybe I should start shopping with you?”

I beamed at her, realizing what a large compliment she had just paid me. Then I remembered my plan to be more outgoing.

“I’d be happy to help you shop,” I told her. “Just let me know when.”

Dave opened his office door and was saying his goodbyes. Fatima didn’t want to get in trouble, so she gave me a thumbs up while back-tracking to her desk.

Would we ever go to the mall together? I doubted it. But it felt good to be asked.

Once I got home, we rushed through dinner. Then I packed Tyler in the car and we went to Josephine’s. It was pouring rain, so I held out an umbrella to try and cover both Tyler and I. He clutched his homework, neatly stowed in his carrying case. After we rang the doorbell, Soleil began barking.

“Hey you two,” Josephine said. “Come on in.”

Mom or I usually dropped Tyler off, then left to run an errand or hit the grocery store, but with the inclement weather, I decided to stick around.

“Hope you don’t mind,” I said.

“Not at all Mrs. W. Let me get your coat.”

“Thanks. I’ll just sit over here, out of the way.”

“Whoa, whoa… wait,” she said. “Let me check you out.”

I struck a pose.

“Looking good. Looking good. You want a cup of tea and a magazine?”

I felt silly. I was never very good with receiving praise. “Tea would be fine, any kind,” I said. After a brief hesitation, I added, “And thanks for the compliment.”

I sat down on the sofa and watched her walk away. Then I noticed Tyler in the other room, checking out his hair in a mirror. Oh my God! This was going to be cute.

While waiting for my tea, I continued studying my son. As he unpacked his bag, Josephine passed him, and I was amazed by the sudden transformation. Instead of giggling or being bashful, as most children who have a crush are, he stood tall and confident. He wore a cool, James Dean-esque expression.

“Here’s your tea. It’s chamomile,” Josephine said, interrupting my reverie.

“Thank you,” I said, then grabbed a nearby magazine so I’d appear busy. Soleil wandered over and lay down near my feet.

Josephine returned to the room with Tyler. Then they began talking and reviewing the lesson. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I sat, transfixed, gazing over the top of my magazine like I was watching a movie in slow motion. There they were, moving about, conversing back and forth, my son acting like a completely different person.

Check this out Justin. Our baby is growing up.

•••••

The sound of someone clearing their throat woke me.

“Mom. You fell asleep.”

I sat up, embarrassed.

“Don’t worry,” Josephine said, trying to make light of the situation. “It was probably the chamomile tea. It makes people sleepy.”

I had no idea how I could’ve dozed off. The nap had felt good though. Then I got up and smoothed my clothes, and reached in my purse to give Josephine her check.

“Thanks,” she said. “I’ll get your jacket.”

We said goodbye and piled into the car to head home. The rain had slowed and visibility was much better. Mom greeted us at the door.

“Hey guys. Guess what? I checked out a few library books on dogs.”

“Cool!” Tyler said, his demeanor suddenly child-like again.

They both took off and plopped down on the couch together.

I followed them into the family room. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” I admitted, yawning, “but I’m beat.”

“Yeah, she fell asleep at Josephine’s.”

My mom gave me a look.

“Kind of embarrassing, I know. But at least I didn’t snore,” I said. “If you two don’t mind, I think I’m going to lie down, but I definitely want to look through those books later.”

“Sure hon,” Mom said. “Goodnight.”

“Night T.” I said, then kissed the top of his head.

I managed to wash my face and brush my teeth before passing out. Within a few minutes, I drifted into the most peculiar dream.

Everywhere I looked I saw the color yellow. I walked alone, in an expansive, never-ending field of daffodils. There was a light wind blowing the flower tops, causing the landscape to ripple like a gentle wave. Someone walked toward me. It was Justin. Instead of running to him, like they do in the movies, I kept the same pace, taking him in slowly.

He was perfect.

As he drew closer, he began to change. His face went from suntanned to grayish-white. His eyes grew dim.

“Justin. Are you okay?” I asked.

He kept walking toward me, growing skinnier, paler.

“No!” I screamed. Then I began to run to him.

Out of nowhere, an angel appeared and caught him as he was falling. I tried to get to them both, but my legs were moving too slowly.

Then the winged creature gazed up at me. It was Sabrina.

I came to a stop, and then, to my horror, Justin began disintegrating in her arms. She tried to grasp some of the particles as they fell, but couldn’t. The warm breeze blew them away in an instant.

The angel lowered her head into her hands. Then she morphed into a giant raven, glanced up at me, and flew away.

I woke up, terrified. Reeling with fear in my dark room, I managed to jump up and flip on the light. Then I wiped the sweat from my forehead and climbed back into bed.

I hated dreaming of Justin dying. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, each time it was painful in its own, unique way.

T
he next morning, on my way to work, I thought about calling Sabrina. But remembering how I’d left in an excited state last time, after crying hysterically in her guest bathroom, gave me pause. I felt like such a fool. Maybe I’d call on the way home.

At work I began spacing out. I was exhausted from the terrible night’s sleep, and I began playing with my calculator, hitting random numbers, watching the tape grow. What I needed, I decided, was a better way to interact with Sabrina. I’d hoped our visits would help me uncover what I wanted to find out about her and Justin. Turns out it wasn’t so easy.

On the drive home at the end of the day, I had a flash of insight and dialed her number.

“You’ve reached the Bergman residence,” the recorded voice said. Henry’s voice.

Damn it. I should hang up. But I didn’t.

“Hi Sabrina. It’s Amy. I’m calling to see if you want to get together this weekend? I feel terrible about last time, and was thinking maybe we could do something else. Maybe go to my health club?”

After I hung up, I felt like a moron. Whenever I called her I sounded like a green telemarketer reading from a script. I shook my head in disgust and stashed the phone in my purse.

I turned on the radio and flipped through the channels. I couldn’t find a single song to listen to, so I switched it to NPR. I could always count on them to make the drive home bearable.