On Second Thought(77)

When he spoke, his voice was thick with tears. "I never thought I'd last  this long without her. I'm an old man being taken care of by his  spinster daughter, but Michelle will always be young."

"I'm not a spinster," I said. "And she did give you me."

"Yes," he said, hugging me. "Yes, she did." There was a pause. "What do  you mean, you're not a spinster? You and Eric back together?"

"No, Dad. But I'm dating my boss. My former boss, I mean. Jonathan Kent, from the magazine."

"What magazine?"

"You should pay more attention."

He nodded, his chin scraping against my hair. "It's always been easier not to."

"I love you anyway."

Another squeeze. "Right back at you, sweetie."

* * *

The next afternoon, I got a call from Kate. "Hey, I'm...I'm moving out. Sorry it's so sudden."

"What happened?" I asked.

"They know. The Coburns."

"Oh, shit."

"Yeah."

"Want help?"

"No, but you'll have to move out, too. Not immediately. But soon." Her voice was tight.

"Sure, sure. I was planning to anyway. Um, Dad broke his leg, did you get that message?"

"Yeah, sorry. Is he okay?"

"He's fine. I'm gonna stay with him a few days, I think." I paused. "You sure you don't want help?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

I went over anyway, leaving Dad on the couch with a tube of Oreos and  the remote control. His broken leg was all over ESPN, and he wanted to  enjoy it. Gram-Gram was on her way over to babysit him.

Kate had three suitcases on her bed when I found her, and was tossing things in a little wildly. "Oh, hey."         

     



 

"Sit down," I said, taking a pair of boots from her. "Have you had  anything to eat or drink today?" Really, I was going to make an  excellent nurse.

"I did. See?" She picked up a glass of water and took a long drink, then told me what happened.

I sighed. "Well, it was gonna happen sooner or later. Sort of ripped the  Band-Aid off. You won't have to skulk around for the next few months,  afraid that they'll find out."

"They're really upset."

"Of course they are." I sat on the edge of her bed and looked at her.  "But, Kate, you loved Nathan. This baby doesn't change that fact. You  took a little comfort with Daniel and now you're going to have a baby,  and you always wanted that."

"True," she said. She was quiet for a minute. "I'll miss you. I loved living with you."

My heart swelled. "I loved it, too. And I'll come to Brooklyn and stay  with you, I promise. And you can come up here when I get a place of my  own."

"I will," she said. "I don't want us to stop being close." Then she  stood up and hugged me, long and hard, petting my hair the way she used  to when I was little.

"I don't know how I could've gotten through this without you. And don't think you're off the hook now."

I squeezed her tight. Nothing she could've said would have made me any happier.





Chapter Thirty-Six

Kate

It was funny how quickly my presence was erased from Nathan's house.  Ainsley had taken Ollie with her when she left, and I was alone.

My suitcases were by the door. My toiletries were cleaned up from the  bathroom. Max was coming to pick me up after rush hour. Daniel had  offered, but I put him off. It carried too much weight, him coming to  take me away from Nathan's.

Brooke had sent me an email, telling me not to touch any of Nathan's  things. She would take care of that. It's very hard for us to believe  you loved Nathan if you found it so easy to fall in with another man. I  think it would be better if we didn't hear from you for a while, the  email said.

But I did take one thing. A navy blue cashmere sweater, tucked at the  bottom of my suitcase. He had so many, and I wanted something that had  touched him.

I went into the cellar and brought up the Apple boxes. Into the den (or  study) to pack up my equipment, the Apple, the cords and accessories,  tucked back into their nesting foam.

Otherwise, there were a few books on photography-Ansel Adams and  Margaret Bourke-White. The photo of Nathan and me. And Hector, of  course.

Otherwise, there still wasn't much of me in this room. There never had been.

Nothing of mine had ever made it from storage.

Did some part of me know I wouldn't be married for long? Did I believe  Nathan and I would last? Was the feeling of strangeness that permeated  our marriage trying to tell me something?

There was my Nikon.

I guessed it was now or never.

Slowly, I reached for the camera. The last time I'd held this was the  last day of my husband's life, and yet it fit into my hands the same as  always, comfortable, a solid, reliable workhorse of a camera.

If I was going to do this, I'd do it right. I dug through my bag of  cords and found the one that would download the photos onto Nathan's  computer. Tapped the space bar of his computer. It took a minute to wake  up, since it hadn't been used since I looked at his emails from  Madeleine.

And there they were, his neat folders.

I plugged the cord in and waited. Looked at Hector as the photos loaded, my heart thumping.

Then I looked at the screen. Import seven pictures? the computer asked me. I clicked Yes.

Oh, God. There he was, that last morning, his face so dear, so plain and  rugged and...and...loved that my knees crumpled, and I slid into his  chair.

Nathan. Oh, Nathan. How can you be gone forever?

I drank in the details; the shape of his mouth, the freckle under his  eye, the blond eyelashes, the sweetness in his almost shy expression.

Thank God I'd gotten up early to see him that day. Thank God I had this picture.

The next one was from Eric's party-my sister, lit up with happiness. Eric, that smug bastard.

Jonathan Kent, looking intently at Ainsley as she talked to someone else. Another little revelation caught by the camera.

The next one was of the back of Nathan's head. He'd turned at the last  second, and there was his head, hiding that vascular malformation. His  soft ginger hair.

Ainsley with Eric's mother, both of them teary-eyed.

It would be just a few minutes later that Nathan died.

One picture left.

I clicked, then sucked in a breath.

It was us. Nathan and me. That's right, some girl from Ainsley's work had asked to see my camera and clicked a shot.         

     



 

It was a little off-center. But it didn't matter, because there it was, the answer.

We were in love. I looked strangely sweet, my cheeks flushed, my arm around Nathan's waist, my eyes shining. And Nathan...

I heard a noise just then. It was me. I was crying. Finally, I was  crying. Gushing, really, and sobbing, the sound so strange and so  wonderful, too.

Tears made the picture go out of focus, but I dashed them out of my eyes.

Nathan looked so happy. So...content. And God, there was nothing wrong  with that. He had the look of marrow-deep satisfaction, and a little  hint of pride, and love, yes, absolutely, love. The moment in time,  stopped and caught forever.

We had been so happy.

I bent my head and cried. Cried and cried with happiness and loss and  gratitude and grief. I had loved my husband, and he died far, far too  young, and if he had lived, we'd still be together, pregnant or not,  taking care of each other, the way people do when they love each other.

"I love you," I whispered. "Nathan, I loved you so much."

And there it was again. The wave of warmth, the smell of my husband, and  such a sweet, strong pressure in my chest that I knew he was here.

Here to say goodbye.





Epilogue

Kate

On May 7, one year, one month and one day after I was widowed, I became a mother.

The time had passed slowly, and also with breathtaking speed. My body  flew ahead with pregnancy, but it seemed like the longest fall on  record.

I moved back to Brooklyn, staying with Daniel for two months until my  apartment was once again mine. I slept in his spare bedroom and acted  like a guest, keeping my room tidy, paying for half of the utilities,  working as much as I could to save up for when I had the baby. Daniel  didn't push things, but he jumped at the chance to do anything for me,  whether it was pick up some food or rub my feet.

We kept things platonic.

During those eight weeks, I'd often go to Cambry-on-Hudson to stay with  my dad and sister. In December, Ainsley put a down payment on a sweet  little bungalow with three bedrooms, and I stayed there most weekends.  She and Jonathan were in no hurry to take things a step further, she  said; if she was going to be his children's stepmother, she wanted to do  it right. Slow and steady seemed to be the plan.

On one weekend in COH, I saw Brooke leaving the cemetery. She didn't see me.

Yes, I still visited Nathan's grave. Those pictures had shown me that  despite being unsure and unsettled, I had also been happy in a way I'd  never been until then.

And I was happy now. Still in mourning, but moving forward. The two feelings didn't cancel each other out.

Moving back into my apartment was odd; once, it had been so important to  me. Now it was just a place. A lovely place, but I had learned that  home had a lot more to do with the people than the floorboards and  closets. Nathan's house had never been home. He, on the other hand, had  been.