“You can go to work, Gage,” Iris says over coffee. “I won’t fall apart.”
“I can work from here, unless you’d rather be alone.”
“I like having you here, but I don’t want you to miss work.”
“I never missed a day of work when Nat and the girls were alive. I barely took vacations, and when I did, I was so distracted, I could hardly enjoy them. I regret that I wasn’t more present with them, and I’d like to think I’ve learned a few things about what’s important in life. Work doesn’t come first on my list anymore.”
“That’s a tough lesson to learn.”
“It took losing everything that mattered to wake me up to it. I’m not proud of that, even if I’m proud of the company I built from nothing. If it can’t function without me occasionally, then it’s all for naught.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“I used to believe it would fall apart if I wasn’t hands-on all day every day. After the accident, I found out how truly nonessential I really am when I didn’t work for six months.”
“You also found out that the amazing team you’d assembled could keep things running.”
“Why didn’t I realize that before? Why did it take losing Nat and the girls to wake me up?”
“I don’t know, and I’m sorry you feel guilty about that.”
“I’ve learned that time with the people we care about is the only thing we have on any given day. Sure, we must work and make a living to support ourselves but letting that become the most important thing in our lives isn’t worth it.”
“Have you posted about that?”
“Not yet. I haven’t wanted to confess to that level of guilt.”
“It’s a very powerful message that someone out there might need to hear.”
“Yeah, I suppose so. I’ll think about that. Today, I posted about how you never know what’s coming around the next curve in the road and how it’s a good idea to appreciate any peace or serenity you can find while you have it.”
“Another good message.”
“Inspired by what happened to you yesterday.”
“I was thinking in the shower, about when Mike was living part-time in Denver, and how many times I planned to visit him there only to have it canceled at the last minute because a ‘flight came up.’ I’m wondering now if he was lying whenever he told me that or when he couldn’t get home from there because of a weather advisory that I never bothered to check, because why would I? If my husband told me he couldn’t fly, I believed him.”
“You had no reason not to believe him, and I’m sure he wasn’t lying every time he told you something like that.”
“I’m not a ‘blind faith’ kind of person. I don’t just sign up with a guy and turn things over to him, confident that he’ll always do the right thing. I kept a hand in our finances, so I’d know what was going on if I ever needed to. I insisted on all big decisions being made together. I made sure I talked to him every day, even when he was away, so we’d stay connected to each other. I never ended a call without telling him I loved him. I took comfort in that. After. That he knew how much I loved him.”
“I have no doubt you were a wonderful wife.”
“Then how could this have happened?”
10
IRIS
In the bright light of day, I can’t avoid it even though I wish I could. I want to know what happened and why.
The phone rings with a call from my mother. “I have to take this.”
“Go ahead. I’m going to check my email.”
“Hey, Mom. How’d everything go?”
“Totally fine, as always. They’re very good for us. How’re you doing?”