“Really, Iris… I probably should just go.”
“Don’t go unless you really want or need to.”
“I don’t want to, but…”
I lay my finger over his lips. “Let’s spend some time with the kids and talk about the rest of it later.”
His entire body goes slack with relief at being given a reprieve.
I love having him around, especially during this latest upheaval, but I’m not sure what I’m dealing with when it comes to his relationship issues. I hope he’ll eventually share his thoughts on the matter, because I feel ready for the R-word, and he’s my leading—and only—candidate.
And it’s not just because we had sex. For the last year or so, any time I pictured myself with someone new, it was his face I saw, and I’ve only realized that in the last few days.
He gets into the passenger side of my silver Toyota Sienna minivan and puts on his seat belt. “This is fancy.”
“No one grows up saying they can’t wait to drive a minivan, but I love this one. Although by the time I finish paying for it, it won’t be worth a dime with the way my kids treat it.”
“Like Nat’s rolling Superfund site, and she couldn’t even blame the kids. It was like that before them.”
“I may borrow that description.”
“Feel free. I used to joke that I needed to don a hazmat suit to clean it.” After a long pause, he says, “She’d like you.”
At a stoplight, I glance over at him, floored by the comment. “You think so?”
“Definitely. She had the same snarky sense of humor you have, and she was funny like you are with the commentary on everything. She had a very small circle of girlfriends because she said women were catty beasts most of the time, and she had no patience for that or mom drama or any of that crap.”
“I feel the same way. From everything you’ve told me about her, I bet we would’ve been best friends.”
“Definitely.”
“I try to surround myself with supportive, loving, thoughtful women who raise each other up rather than tear each other down.”
“Like I said… She would’ve liked you.”
“That’s an amazing compliment, Gage. Thank you.”
He shrugs. “It’s true.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“What’s your objection to the R-word?”
He doesn’t answer for almost a full minute, as if he needs that long to decide what to say. “I promised myself after I lost Nat and the girls that I’d go forward on my own. It’s just easier that way.”
“How did you get into the Wild Widows with that philosophy?”
“When Christy said the only rule was being open to a second chance at love, I said, fine, I’m open to it, because I was desperate to meet some people who got it, you know? Even though I agreed to the group’s rule, I’ve planned to stay single.”
“I can understand why it’s easier that way, but isn’t it lonelier, too?”
“It can be, but it’s better.”
“How so?”
“It just is. It’s what works for me.”