Someone Like You: Wild Widows Series, Book 1 Page 21

  I’m suffering in silence on the way home when Iris gasps in the back seat. “What?” I ask her.

  “Oh my God. Adrian’s mother-in-law died of a massive heart attack today.”

  “Oh no.” Derek sounds as distressed as I feel. “He relies on her for everything with Xavier.”

  Iris gets busy on her phone, and a few minutes later, she says, “The Wild Widows are going there to see what they can do. I contacted my sitter, and she’s willing to stay with the kids tonight if you guys want to leave Maeve at my place for a bit.”

  Derek looks over at me. “Do you feel up to that?”

  He knows how tired I am as I move into the third trimester. I don’t feel up to it, but I wouldn’t miss the chance to support Adrian. “I’m fine.”

  “All right, then. I’ll put Maeve down at your house and pick her up after we see Adrian.”

  That’s going to get us home wicked late on a work night, but that’s what we do for each other in our group. We show up. Adrian would do it for me. I have no doubt in my mind about that.

  We swing through the District to pick up Derek’s SUV so we’ll have a way to get home. I stay in Iris’s car in case Maeve wakes up.

  “This sucks so bad for poor Adrian,” Iris says as we head toward Fairfax. Thankfully, the traffic is light at this time on a Sunday night. “It’s too much on top of too much. Sadie and her mom were really close. I bet she died of a broken heart, the poor thing.”

  “It’s awful. What’ll he do?”

  “I guess he’ll have to hire someone. He’d just settled into a bit of a routine after a rough few months, and now this. He really loved Alyssa, his mother-in-law.”

  “I’ve heard him say how lost he’d be without her.”

  When we arrive at Iris’s house, we get the kids settled and tuck Maeve in with Laney. Both girls are sound asleep, and the older two are so tired, they go down without a fight. We leave them with Iris’s sitter and head to Adrian’s in Arlington in Derek’s SUV.

  The three of us are quiet as we contemplate yet another terrible loss for one of our sweet friends, who’s already been to hell and back after losing his wife from complications of childbirth. I can’t even think about what happened to Sadie without breaking out in a cold sweat of fear. It’s chilling to know perfectly healthy women still die in childbirth.

  I force my thoughts away from that distressing topic to focus on the equally distressing topic of Adrian’s beloved mother-in-law’s sudden death. My heart aches for him and for Xavier and the rest of a family that’s already had enough tragic loss to last a lifetime.

  When we arrive at Adrian’s townhouse in Arlington, the street outside is lined with cars.

  Derek parks a couple of blocks away, and as we’re walking toward Adrian’s house, he says, “We should’ve brought food or something.”

  “I’m sure they’ve got more than they can eat in a month by now,” Iris says.

  “True,” he says.

  My emotions are all over the place as we climb the stairs to Adrian’s home.

  Gage is working the door and hugs each of us as we go by him.

  “How is he?” Derek asks.

  “Not good at all,” Gage says, his expression somber. “Adrian’s sister came to get Xavier a while ago and is keeping him at her house for the next few days.”

  “I guess that’s for the best,” Derek says.

  “He’s in no condition to care for a baby,” Gage says bluntly.

  I want to turn around and run from the sadness that permeates this place, but Adrian is my friend, and it’s important to me to be there for him.

  Derek’s hand on my back helps to calm and center me. I’m not sure why he has that effect on me, but he does, and I appreciate that he knows I need the support.

  Another facet of grief is how other people’s tragedies can resurrect the memories of our own, taking us back to that first awful day when our lives changed forever. That’s exactly what happens to me as I walk into Adrian’s latest disaster.

  He’s on the sofa, surrounded by people trying to comfort him. When he sees us, he stands to hug each of us. His eyes are red and swollen, his face haggard with grief. “Thanks for coming.”

  “I wish there was something we could say,” Derek says for all of us.

  “I know,” Adrian says. “It’s unbelievable. Not sure who I pissed off.”

  “We’re here for you, friend,” Iris says. “Whatever you need.”

  “Thank you.”

  Others have come in behind us, so we yield to them so they can say something that won’t matter to Adrian. I feel like I’m going to be sick as we go into a kitchen that’s laden with food, as Iris predicted it would be.

  Wynter is ferociously stirring something in a metal bowl. She’s so consumed by what she’s doing that she doesn’t notice us at first.

  “What’re you making, Wynter?” Iris asks her.

  She looks up and seems startled to see us. “Pancakes. It’s the only thing I know how to make, and I wanted to do something.”

  “That’s very sweet of you,” Iris says.

  Wynter shrugs, her expression full of devastation. “What the eff is wrong with this world?”

  “So many things,” Iris tells her, “but the one thing that’s right is friends who show up for each other at the best and worst of times. It’s good of you to be here.”

  “I’m so sad for him,” she says softly. “How could this have happened after what he’s already going through?”

  “I don’t know, honey,” Iris says. “It’s terribly unfair.”

  “What’s he going to do? She helped him with everything.”

  “He’ll figure it out,” Derek assures her. “And we’ll be there to help him.”

  Wynter wipes the tears off her face and goes back to stirring her pancake batter, albeit with less intensity than before.

  Because it gives me something to do, I find a skillet and get the stove ready for Wynter.

  She and I make two dozen pancakes over the next half hour without exchanging a single word. What is there to say?

  We’re almost finished when she looks over at me. “Are you banging Derek?”

  “What? No!”

  “Huh, that’s surprising. I would’ve bet my life that you were.”

  “Well, I’m not, so don’t go gambling with your life.”

  “You ought to. He’s into you.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m quite pregnant with my late husband’s child.”

  “I hear pregnancy makes you horny as fuck. Is that true?”

  “Honestly, Wynter. You need to get a filter.”

  “My mom says that, too, but it’s probably not going to happen. Does it make you horny?”

  Yes, I want to say. Hornier than hell. But I’m not telling her that. “Not so much. I’m not really thinking about that at the moment.”

  “You’re a terrible liar.”

  “And you’re a terrible snoop.”

  She laughs, which is so rare for her that it has the other Wild Widows coming to see it for themselves. Wynter is laughing. The joyful sound is just what we all needed.

  “Is Wynter laughing?” Adrian asks as he joins us in the kitchen.

  “I’m sorry,” Wynter says. “This isn’t the time for laughter.”

  “Sure it is,” Adrian responds. “What would we do if we couldn’t laugh at the sheer madness that is our lives?”

  “That’s true,” Brielle says as Kinsley nods in agreement.

  “What did Roni say that was so funny?” Joy asks.

  “Never mind,” I say with a pointed look for Wynter.

  “We were talking about how pregnancy makes her horny, and she has no outlet for that.”

  “Oh my God! That is not what I said!”

  “Your face, though,” Wynter says, losing it all over again as the others join in.

  Even Adrian manages a chuckle.

  I shake my head at her. “You’re outrageous.”

  �
�I’d rather be outrageous than horny.”

  “Stop!” I’m mortified, but willing to take one for the team if it provides some relief from the latest disaster to befall our group.

  Wynter passes around the plate of warm pancakes like they’re an appetizer.

  I take one and roll it up before taking a bite. “Hey, that’s really good, Wynter.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What’s that I taste?” Joy asks.

  “Almond extract. That’s how my grandma made them.”

  “They’re really good,” Adrian says. “Thanks, Wynter.”

  “You’re welcome. I wish there was more I could do.”

  “We all do,” Kinsley says as she takes a sip of wine.

  “It means a lot to me that you guys are here,” Adrian says.

  “We’re here, and we’re gonna be here for the long haul,” Joy assures him.

  Adrian, who is overcome with emotion, just nods and leans his head on top of Iris’s when she puts her arm around him.

  I hate that this has happened to Adrian, but I’m so thankful for this group of people and how we have one another’s backs.

  * * *

  After we drop Iris at her house and pick up a sleeping Maeve, Derek drives us back to the District. It’s almost midnight by the time we cross the 14th Street Bridge. I’m going to be an absolute wreck at work in the morning.

  “Do you want to stay with us tonight so you don’t have to be alone?” Derek asks.

  I’m so stunned by his offer that I’m temporarily speechless. Is he thinking about what Wynter said?

  “I know you were upset at Adrian’s,” he adds.

  “I was, but I’m okay.”

  “I’ve got a lovely guest room that’s all yours whenever you don’t want to be alone.”

  “Thank you for that and so many other things too numerous for me to ever be able to list.”

  He pulls up outside my building. “Every minute we spend together is my pleasure.” He leans over to kiss my cheek. “See you in the morning?”

  “Ugh, bright and early.”

  “Get some rest.”

  “You, too.” I glance back at Maeve, sleeping soundly in her car seat, her sweet cheeks pink from being in the sun all day even though we reapplied sunscreen numerous times. “Tell her I said I’ll see her soon.”

  “I will.”

  “Night.” I get out of the SUV and go up the stairs, waving to him when I’m inside the main door to my building. He always waits until he sees the lights go on in my apartment before he leaves. That’s the sort of thing that has endeared him to me since we became friends. He takes care of me, even though I’m certainly not his responsibility.

  I can barely stand to admit that Wynter’s teasing struck a chord for me. Pregnancy has made me “horny,” as she so inelegantly put it, and when I’m alone in my bed at night, it’s not my sweet husband I think about.

  No, it’s Derek Kavanaugh I want, and the guilt threatens to consume me. Intellectually, I know there’s nothing wrong with wanting him, but emotionally… It still feels wrong to want anyone other than Patrick. I wonder if a bell will suddenly ring one day, giving me permission to act on the feelings I have for Derek.

  I’m not sure how I’ll know if or when the time is right. All I know for sure is I’m not ready for that. Not yet, anyway.

  * * *

  One month later…

  Roni

  It’s Memorial Day weekend, and we’re going to a cookout at Iris’s home with the Wild Widows, who’ve become a wonderful part of my life. I’m round with pregnancy and starting to count down to my end-of-June delivery date. The fog of early widowhood has begun to lift as I’ve carved out a new life for myself.

  And much of that new life revolves around Derek and Maeve.

  We see each other every day. I’ve even relieved Patrice a few times when Derek had to work late, making dinner for Maeve, bathing her and tucking her into bed for him. I love her so much. She’s the most adorable little girl, and she’s completely obsessed with the baby in my belly. I’ve decided not to find out the gender of the baby ahead of time, but I think Maeve wants to know more than anyone else.

  We take her to movies, to the playground, to McDonald’s for the chicken nuggets Derek says she’d eat every day if he let her, and I’ve even been with them to dinner at his parents’ home a few times.

  He and Maeve came with me to a get-together my parents hosted when my brother and his family came home for spring break. My parents love Derek, and they adore Maeve, and it’s all so…effortless.

  I suppose that’s the way it should be, two people who were lucky enough to find each other in this crazy world, fitting into each other’s lives and families with ease and comfort. We still have the occasional uncomfortable moment when we’re out with Maeve, and people assume we’re married with our second child on the way.

  We’ve never come right out and discussed our plan of attack for when that happens. Rather, we both nod and smile at the person and move on with our day as if the comment hasn’t lacerated two recovering broken hearts.

  Other than an occasional peck on the cheek or one-armed hug, our relationship is completely platonic, even if the sparks that were there at the beginning are still very present, simmering on slow burn until some undeclared date in the future when things will presumably change between us.

  I’ve begun to wonder lately when or if that’s going to happen. Although, it’s sort of difficult to tell the guy you’ve been crushing on for quite some time now that you might be ready for a little more than a peck on the cheek when you’re super pregnant with your late husband’s child.

  So yeah, that’s where we are.

  Derek and Maeve are picking me up in thirty minutes to drive to Iris’s house. I’m putting the finishing touches on the coleslaw I made, along with chocolate chip cookies that will be Derek’s contribution. He does things to make life easier for me, such as drive me to and from work most days, so I do what I can for him, the way I did for Patrick.

  I experience a pang when I recall that fateful last night and how my failure to go to the grocery store led him to being out on the street where he was hit by a stray bullet. A while ago, I brought that up again with the Wild Widows and talked about how it continued to haunt me. Turns out many of them had similar woulda-coulda-shoulda stories that have stuck with them long after losing their spouse or significant other. It continues to help to know I’m not alone with the thoughts and feelings that come with profound grief.

  As promised, Dr. Gordon sent me a list of possible therapists, but I’ve found that I get the therapy I need from the Wild Widows’ weekly meetings and frequent get-togethers like the one today, where I’ll be surrounded by people who understand me like no one else ever could—even the best of therapists.

  The one area of my life that’s not what I’d like it to be is my relationship with my in-laws. They were elated when I called to tell them about the baby, but when I tried to explain my friendship with Derek and Maeve to them, they got upset, even when I assured them it isn’t romantic in nature. “We’re just friends,” I said, but even that, apparently, is too much for them to handle.

  Iris tried to explain to me that I can have my Chapter 2 with someone new, but they can’t find a new son.

  “That’s not what I’m doing, though,” I protested. “I’m not replacing Patrick.”

  “You and I know that, and we understand the complicated dynamics of this situation, but it’s harder for them. They want everything to be the way it was before they lost Patrick, and you moving forward with someone new is a reminder to them that nothing will ever be the same.”

  “I can’t bear to be at odds with them,” I said.

  “Then don’t be. Make them part of everything with the baby and your life, and eventually they’ll come around. Or they won’t. That won’t be up to you.”

  Gah, it’s the worst to wonder if they’re angry with me for getting on with my life. What choice do I have? I keep
coming back to that question. If Patrick hadn’t been killed, I would’ve spent the rest of my life with him. I know that, and so do they.

  I’ve made a point to include them in every development with the baby, texting when I felt it move for the first time, first kicks, my thoughts about names, etc. Last Sunday, they threw a lovely shower for me with their family and friends, and for a while there, it felt like old times, but with one very important person missing.

  After everyone left, my mother-in-law, Susan, asked me if Derek was my boyfriend.

  “No,” I said. “He’s not. We’re just very good friends who have been through a similar ordeal.”

  “And that’s all it’s ever going to be?”

  I was flabbergasted by the question. “I… I don’t know.”

  “I see.”

  No! I wanted to say. You don’t see anything! You still have your husband of forty years by your side. I lost mine. You don’t get to judge me!

  Patrick’s sister-in-law, Clara, was the one to tip me off that they’d heard about me and Derek. A random friend of theirs saw us at the grocery store with Maeve, looking “like a happy little family,” which immediately got back to them. I guess they were especially perturbed that I didn’t tell them myself that I’m seeing someone new.

  Except I’m not seeing someone new. I have a friend who is a man. It’s all so terribly uncomfortable, and it’s caused me a few sleepless nights that I can ill afford, as the third trimester has wiped me out.

  However… The reason I couldn’t answer Susan’s question is that I do want more with Derek, and I know he wants more with me, but we’re stuck firmly in the friend zone for now. I suspect he might be waiting until after the baby arrives to bring up what exactly we’re doing here.

  In the meantime, we’re together every chance we get, and our friendship is a tremendous source of comfort to me. I refuse to give that up, even if it makes Patrick’s parents uncomfortable.

  I haven’t told anyone about what’s going on with them—not my family or Derek. I’ve kept it to myself in the hope that it’ll work itself out eventually. The last thing I need is everyone who loves me resenting them for making things harder for me. If I’ve learned anything in the last almost eight months, it’s how brutal grief is. I’m the last person who’d ever judge anyone, even my in-laws, for how they choose to handle a loss as egregious as what happened to their only son.