A Widow Redefined (15 page)

I was thankful Tyler found another hobby he enjoyed, and that he was becoming more involved with his friends. He’d been withdrawn for too long. Now, between school, his art lessons, this new sport and the workouts with us, Tyler’s life was becoming full again. The void left by Justin didn’t seem as large.

Mom called to us from inside the house. “You guys interested in leftovers?”

“Sure,” we said in unison, then walked back in.

We nuked some meatloaf and mashed potatoes and put together a quick salad. Then we sat down to eat.

“Have you seen this one, with the back flips?” she asked me.

“I sure did.”

Tyler sat at the dinner table eating, but he appeared larger somehow, like a peacock with its feathers spread out.

“T. claims it’s a sport from France.”

“Cool,” I replied.

We munched for a while, not talking.

Then Mom turned her attention to me. “So how was the Botanic Garden?”

“Very nice,” I said. “We had a good time.”

The less said the better, I thought. I still didn’t feel ready to share.

“What’s your friend’s name again?” she asked.

All I’d said was that she was one of Justin’s old customers. But I decided there was no harm in answering.

“Her name is Sabrina.”

Tyler seemed to take an interest, too. After shoving a large serving of mashed potatoes in his mouth, he asked, “Isn’t that the lady with the pool in her house?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Cool,” he said back.

We continued eating, and after a few minutes of not talking about it, I assumed we were done.

“This Sabrina,” Mom continued. “What does she do for a living?”

“She owns a clothing design company,” I said.

Tyler and Mom stared at me. Both of them had stopped eating and were holding their forks, looking at me as if I spoke in tongues.

“She’s a designer?” Mom asked.

“I don’t think so. She said her parents were, but they died, and now she runs the business. She said she goes to Paris to oversee things, to approve the new collections. I think it’s more like she is the CEO.”

They both continued to stare at me like I was talking about a Martian from outer space. That had been my initial reaction, too. It was funny, I thought, how over time she became less and less alien and more of an ordinary human being. Okay, maybe not ordinary, that was pushing it.

“So did you like the gardens?” Tyler asked, changing the subject.

“They were gorgeous. We walked all day long.”

Mom winked at me. “Sounds like we’ve all had quite a workout today.” (She never missed an opportunity to wiggle out of the evening exercise routine.)

Tyler caught on quickly. “I guess we’ll start back tomorrow night then,” he said, sounding a little sad.

After dinner and dishes, Tyler still found strength to go into the backyard and practice his jumps. “I wish I had half of his energy,” I said aloud.

Mom replied, “I wish I had one fourth.”

That night, after climbing into bed, I thought about the day’s events. So much had happened; it felt like a week had passed. I was so happy I’d found out I was wrong about Sabrina. That she wasn’t lying to me, that she posed no threat. The nagging voice in my head, although usually helpful, had been mistaken.

I curled into a fetal position and hugged my pillows. Once again, I was beat. I would’ve fallen asleep in an instant, but I ended up thinking about Justin. I wondered,
What are you up to?

Sabrina believed Justin had sent me to her. I believed it too. But before I could figure out the reason why, I fell asleep.

•••••

The next morning I arrived at work ten minutes late. Dave was irritated because Fatima had called in sick. I remembered her acting gig and realized that’s where she was. She had told me to keep tight-lipped about it, so I busied myself with paperwork.

When Dave left for lunch, Barb spoke up, “Hey Amy.”

“Yeah.”

“Just so you know, Fatima isn’t sick. She’s downtown working as an extra in a movie.”

I laughed. I guess I wasn’t the only one who knew the secret. Just as long as Dave didn’t find out, everything would be okay.

Fatima punched in the following morning looking positively radiant. She tried to control her bubbling enthusiasm but wasn’t successful.

Dave walked past. “You’re looking well,” he said, then dropped a heavy stack of files onto her desk. Of course, he wasn’t fooled, and he was going to get back at her by doubling her workload.

When he stepped out a few hours later, Fatima turned to Barb and me. “Oh my God! You have no idea,” she said.

We both looked at her with anticipation.

“I was there, in the crowd scene with Johnny Depp!”

“Isn’t he a little old for you?” Barb asked.

Fatima shot her a “how dare you speak such nonsense” look and continued. “So I was in the crowd, and then he pushed his way through and delivered his lines to the other actor. It was so awesome. We repeated it a bunch of times. They even filmed it from different angles.”

Just as she was spilling the details, Dave opened the office door, and I cut her off mid-sentence. “I think I can find those files you’re looking for. Let me take a look in this cabinet.”

Fatima looked confused, then heard the door shut behind her.

“Okay,” she said, playing along. “I appreciate it. I can’t find them anywhere.”

I got up and looked around to make it seem legit, then I sat back down, empty-handed. Fatima turned and slapped a yellow sticky note on my desk. “Thanks,” it said. “I made $75.00 for the day, too.”

I grinned at her, then I crumpled the note and threw it in the garbage can. We were acting like children. Like sisters, even. It was fun.

•••••

When I got home from work Mom told me, “You have mail from your friend. It’s on the counter.” As I walked over to look at it, she added, “Oh, and I’m going out after dinner, to my new book club.”

Half-listening to her I mumbled, “Sounds good.”

I flipped through the stack of mail looking for the letter. But it wasn’t a letter; it was a card. An invitation. I ripped it open and read it over.

I had been invited to a cocktail party at the Bergman residence—formal attire required. Please RSVP by phone or email if you can attend, it said.

I laughed out loud.
Me.
At a cocktail party. I don’t think so. I put the invitation back in the envelope and set it aside.

Tyler came barreling in from the back yard. “Hi Mom,” he said, passing me by. Then he disappeared to his room.

Later on my mom’s curiosity got the best of her. “Your friend have anything interesting to say?”

“No,” I said. “It’s just an invitation to a party.”

I turned and headed to the refrigerator to get a glass of water. I thought if I kept busy enough, conversations I didn’t want to have would go away.

“What day is it?” she asked. “You need me to watch Tyler?”

“Nah. I don’t think I’m going go, but I appreciate your offer to babysit.”

The room grew quiet. This was the sound of my mom’s mind trying to figure out what to say next without seeming nosy.

“But I thought you liked this lady?” she finally said.

“I do. But I don’t think I’d feel comfortable around her other friends. Plus, it’s a cocktail party, the kind where you have to dress up.”

“Oh,” she said, looking alarmed. This was as foreign a concept to her as it was to me. “Well, if you change your mind, and need me to watch Tyler, let me know.”

“What about me?” Tyler asked as he came into the kitchen.

“Nothing honey,” I replied. “Grandma was just saying she could babysit if I went to the party I got invited to.”

My son gave me a look. I didn’t need him to utter a word to know what he was thinking. He wanted happiness for me, and he liked that I had a new friend to hang out with, but a party? This may be going too far.

Tyler was unusually quiet the rest of the evening. While my mom was gone at her book club, he wandered off to his room to finish his homework. Then, when he didn’t come get me at the usual time for our workout, like he always does, I went to find him.

Opening his bedroom door, I said, “Hey T. I’m all set to exercise.”

He was sitting on his bed, reading a book. He held it in front of his face so I couldn’t see him.

“Do you want to exercise inside or outside?” he asked.

“Whatever you prefer.”

Without responding, he set the book down and began putting on his gym shoes. Then he went toward the foyer, so I followed.

I guessed we were going outside.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Yep,” was all he said.

The weather was pretty warm, and after doing a few stretches and walking a block or two, sweat beads formed on my forehead.

“Hey. How’s Sally’s mom doing?” I asked.

Tyler, disguised behind his kid sunglasses replied, “She’s doing good. Much better.”

I wasn’t in the mood to dig stuff out of him this time, so I switched the subject to something I knew he’d like.

“Grandma tells me that parkour is a French sport.”

“Yep.”

Even his new, favorite topic didn’t provoke conversation.

We continued walking.

“It’s hot,” Tyler finally commented.

“I know. Must be 100% humidity. We should’ve gone to the pool. I think it’s open now.”

“Your friend, Sabrina, is her pool indoor or outdoor?”

“Indoor.”

I was glad he wanted to talk about her. I figured he must be curious and I wanted to answer whatever questions he had, to make him feel comfortable. The last thing I wanted was for Tyler to feel threatened. For the longest time, it was just the three of us, our little family. I hadn’t spent much time with friends.

Tyler wiped his forehead and took off his sunglasses. Then, squinting he asked, “Was Dad the one who set up her pool? When he worked there?”

“No,” I said. “I think the pool came with the house. He may have put in some new tiles, though.”

Tyler smiled. “Yeah. I’ll bet they look good.” Then he asked, “Could you tell Dad had been there?”

My heart sank. No. I couldn’t tell Justin had been there, apart from the evidence in all the invoices I’d found. But when I looked into my son’s eyes, his whole face awaiting a positive response, I said, “You know, I think I could. Everything did look pretty cool. I’ll bet Dad picked out a lot of that stuff.”

Tyler’s face lit up. I had spoken another white lie. But perhaps it was true. Justin wasn’t just a good carpenter, he had a good eye for design. Surely Sabrina would’ve listened to his suggestions.

We turned around and began walking back home. It was way too hot now.

“Are you going to your friend’s birthday party?” he asked.

I looked down at him, realizing why he’d assume that. When you’re a kid, those are the only parties you’re invited to.

“No. It’s not her birthday. It’s a grown-up thing. A cocktail party.”

“What’s that?” he asked, making a face like he’d just bitten into a lemon.

I laughed. My reaction was similar after I’d opened the invite. Going out to do something like that went against the very grain of my being. I prefer to keep to myself.

“Basically, it’s a party for people to dress fancy and eat tiny snacks,” I replied.

“Sounds boring.”

I nodded, “My thoughts exactly.”

“But you have to go, right? Otherwise your friend will get mad?”

Surely, I couldn’t be expected to go. Sabrina would understand if I declined. Heck, I didn’t even own formal attire.

“I’m sure she won’t mind,” I said.

Tyler shot me a look like I was a bad friend. I ignored it, even though a small part of me knew he was right.

After enduring the heat and humidity, then being greeted by ice cold air-conditioning, I decided to take a shower. Afterward I changed into fresh clothes, then I sat down in the kitchen, exhausted. I wished some of these workouts would start to show on my actual figure. But so far, nothing. I looked the same.

I reached out and grabbed the mail, then pulled the party invitation out of its envelope. Sabrina had included an email address to respond. Good. I wouldn’t have to call to say I wasn’t going to come.

I took the invite to the family room and fired up the computer. After logging into my email, I got a case of writer’s block. I couldn’t figure out what to say that wouldn’t sound rude.

After mulling it over, I decided honesty was the best policy.

“Sabrina,” I wrote, “Thanks for inviting me to your cocktail party. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. I’m not a formal attire type of girl. Thanks for understanding, Amy.”

I proofread it and hit send. Then I deleted all my junk messages and logged off.

Tyler walked in wearing pajamas and holding his parkour DVD. “You wanna watch this?” he asked.

I nodded yes and we got comfortable on the sofa. Then I proceeded to watch a group of the healthiest people I’d ever seen do things I didn’t know humans were capable of. I thought stunts like that were special effects in kung fu movies. I didn’t know people could really do such things.

I glanced over at Tyler. He was completely engrossed. His eyes followed their every movement.

It put a smile on my face.

•••••

Wednesday night Mom offered to take Tyler to his art lesson. While alone, I decided to check my email. I hoped Sabrina wouldn’t be angry at me for blowing off her party.

She had responded.

“Amy,” the email said, “You simply must come to my party. I have it every year and it’s mostly business associates. I could really use a friend there this time. Oh, and don’t worry about the clothes. I’ll send some dresses over in your size. You can borrow one for the night.”

I sighed. I was out of excuses, short of a real emergency coming up. I had a wardrobe for the night. I had free time. And Sabrina had mentioned she could really use a friend there. There was no way I could get out of this now, so I succumbed.

I hit reply and typed: “Sabrina, I guess I’ll see you then. And thanks for the wardrobe help.” Then I logged off.

I was so dreading this thing, it’s hard to put into words. It ranked about as high on my list of fun things to do as getting a root canal.