On Second Thought(68)

As I rode home through the park one soft evening, the sun turning the  western sky purple and the most amazing shade of nectarine, I saw  someone sitting in the cemetery.

It was Kate.

If she visited Nathan's grave regularly, she never mentioned it. Since  I'd taken to riding my bike, I stopped by, making sure the plantings  were watered. Sometimes, there'd be a drawing from one of his nephews,  which I tried not to look at, because they weren't for me. Nonetheless,  they made me cry-the sweet, childlike printing, the swirls of Crayola.

"Hey," I called, getting off my bike and leaning it against a tree. "Want company?"

"Sure," she said.         

     



 

Nathan Vance Coburn III, loving husband, son and brother, a wonderful  man, always smiling. There was a bouquet of fresh white roses there,  from Kate, I assumed.

I sat next to my sister and put my arm around her, and she leaned her head against my shoulder, her hair tickling my cheek.

A year ago, this kind of interaction would've been out of the question. It just wouldn't have been us.

It was us now.

"Today's the one-year anniversary of the day we met," she said.

"Oh, honey." I squeezed her a little closer.

"It was this awful wedding, and he asked me out, and I thought he must be a serial killer or something."

"But he wasn't. Or he was really secretive about it."

She gave a little snort.

"How's Daniel?" I asked.

"We're not... I haven't seen him recently. That night was a mistake."

I smoothed her hair out of my eye. "You sure?"

"Yeah. I can't have a fling, Ainsley. I'm a widow."

"So no sex forevermore?"

"Probably."

"Well, I think you should cut yourself some slack. Let's face it. Maybe  it was the grief that drove you into his magnificent arms-" Another  snort. "Or maybe it's just that he likes you and you needed a little  fun."

"I feel like I cheated on Nathan."

"You didn't." I paused. "Kate, you knew Nathan less than a year. You're allowed to get over him, you know."

Her head snapped up. "I loved him."

"I know, honey. I do. But don't do things because you feel like there's a  handbook you should follow. If Daniel makes you happy, let him. You  don't have to marry him next week."

She sighed. "It all sounds very wise until you walk into the kitchen,  all postcoital, and your dead husband's sister is there with her hair  falling out."

"Yeah, that was bad. But you're allowed to be alive, Kate. If you find  something that makes you smile, don't worry about it. Have fun. Nathan  would want that. He was crazy about you."

"Yeah. Me and his ex-wife."

I had no answer for that. "Well, we hate her, so who cares? He loved you, Kate. You have to know that."

She swallowed hard. "I do."

I smoothed her hair back and gave her another squeeze. A red-winged  blackbird sang from the top of a pine tree, and a train whistle sounded  in the distance.

"Oh, there you girls are!"

We both jumped and turned. Candy, in the flesh, strode up through the  graves, dressed in a red suit and black Manolos that made me start to  drool with envy.

"How did you find us?" I asked.

"I have a GPS app on your phone, Ainsley."

My mouth fell open. "You do?"

"Of course I do."

"Why?"

"So I know where you are." She gave me a puzzled look and sat down on Kate's other side. "Is today a significant day?"

Kate sighed. "Nathan and I met a year ago today."

"It's important to acknowledge these milestones in your healing  journey." As always when talking about anything emotional, she sounded  smug.

"Roger that." Kate was a master at not being offended by our mother. Her mother. Whatever.

"So! I left your father, girls," she said, lying back and folding her  hands under her unnatural hair. "Don't worry, I'm not moving in. You  made it clear I'm not wanted."

"You're wanted," Kate said. "Just not as a roomie."

"I signed the papers on a little place of my own today. You know those  condos right on the Hudson in Tarrytown? I bought one. I also signed  another book contract. The Toxic Marriage: Why We Stay."

"Wow," I said, lying back, as well. The grass pricked the back of my  neck, but the view of the sky was amazing. Also, this was big news, and  lying down seemed appropriate. "Wow."

Kate lay back, as well. "Why now, Mom?"

Candy sighed. "Oh, I had a client come in, and she reminded me of  myself. Stuck in a stupid marriage, perpetually unhappy, and I heard  myself telling her she had choices, and inaction was a choice, too, and I  thought, Hello? Candace? You've been doing the same damn thing for  thirty years."

"I thought you loved Dad," I said.

She didn't answer for a minute. "I do," she finally said, and her voice  was smaller. "But let's face it. He never got over your mother. Don't be  like that, Kate. Get over Nathan and live again."

"Thanks for the advice."

"I'm tired of being bitter," Candy said. "I'd like to try something else."         

     



 

"Does Dad know?" I asked.

"I just called him. Left a voice mail. He's working a Cardinals game."

We were all quiet for a minute. A crow flew over us, cawing, the last of the sunlight turning its feathers iridescent.

"Why did you take him back, Mom?" Kate asked. "You were so angry when he divorced you. Sean and I thought you hated him."

"I did."

"So?" Kate continued. "It must've been clear he was just using you. And  if you had said no, he would've married someone else within the month.  Dad couldn't make himself a sandwich with a gun pointed at his heart,  let alone raise Ainsley alone."

"I know," Candy said. "But I couldn't leave that poor innocent child out in the cold, could I?"

"So all these decades of unhappiness are on me?" I said. "Sorry for being born."

"No, Ainsley." Her voice was overly patient, that I'm sorry you're so  dense voice I knew so well. "Part of me hoped he'd...well, you know,  girls. I hoped he'd fall in love with me again. But he didn't. There  were times when I thought he was close, but I was always wrong." She  glanced at me. "You were the best part. The sweetest little girl in the  world."

My eyes widened, and I had to sit up a little to make sure Candy had just said what I thought I heard.

Kate was smiling. "You win, Ainsley. Mom loves you best."

Candy smiled and looked back at the sky. "Every child is a mother's favorite."

"I thought I was the recalcitrant stepchild," I said.

"That book isn't based on you, Ainsley. Please."

"Sean is your true favorite," Kate said.

"Sean," Candy snorted. "He's useless, that boy. But he did give me  grandchildren. Who wants dinner? I'm starving. Or are you too busy for  your poor soon-to-be single mother?"

I was pretty sure she was talking to both of us, and the word step had not been used.

"I'm not too busy for my poor single mother," I said, jumping up. "Kate, are you too busy for your poor single mother?"

"I don't seem to be," she said. I offered her my hand and pulled her up,  then did the same to Candy. For a second, I thought we might hug, but  then the moment was gone.

We were still us, after all.

Us, but a little better.

* * *

On Sunday, I decided to look at some classes at the local colleges. I  took my laptop out onto the patio-the heat had relented, and it was  about as perfect a summer day as could be. Plus, who knew how much  longer I'd be living here? I had to enjoy the koi pond while I had one.

I scanned the class selection. I'd fallen into my job at NBC. I didn't  mind working at Hudson Lifestyle, now that I was actually making an  effort (and shagging the boss). But I didn't love it (the work, that  was). It was a job, not a career.

For Jonathan, it was different. In the past month, I'd learned that his  grandmother had started the magazine in 1931 at a time when no one  thought a woman had the business savvy to run a business. Hudson  Lifestyle had never laid off a single employee. When a freelancer's kid  had gotten leukemia, the magazine (i.e. Jonathan) had paid all her  bills, and the girl was now at Columbia, getting her law degree.

So it was all very noble and lovely. It just wasn't me.

I wasn't a hundred percent sure what was. Unlike Kate and Sean, I never  had a calling. I liked people. I liked being useful. That was about all I  knew.

Maybe it was time for me to travel. Or live alone. Or get a degree that might serve me better than philosophy.

My phone rang from somewhere in the depths of the sofa where Ollie had hidden it. I dug around, pulled it out.

Judy.

"Hello?" I said.

"Sweetheart? It's me."

My eyes welled unexpectedly at the sound of her voice. "Hi," I said. "How are you?"

"We're fine. We miss you."

A longing for their kitchen, for Judy's pancakes, for Aaron's bear hugs,  for family game night, swamped me. "I miss you guys, too."