Or maybe that’s not true at all. Maybe we would have fizzled as quickly as we began. A bright burst of fire at the beginning and another, dimmer burst at the end, like a firework that never quite made it off the ground. We could have hurt each other a thousand ways, both of us eventually needing more and offering less than we had to give. I would have always wondered if he stayed with me out of a sense of duty, because of Jenny, while he’d worry that I’d only stayed with him to defy Robert and my parents.
I could dream all day long, but at its core, the truth of my life is that I am a lucky woman. I’ve known real love and true beauty, two things not given to every person. Without Robert, I never would have found my way to The Hideaway or William, and without William, I wouldn’t have known the delight of both Jenny and Sara.
While I’m thankful for both of these men in my life, I’m more thankful for the woman they showed me I could be on my own. Not to mention the people they brought into my life. The Hideaway was always full of friends and lovers, mothers and daughters, secret keepers and secret spillers, straight talkers and soft shoulders. We had hurt and we had joy, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Things could have turned out better or worse, but I don’t dwell on any of that. I have a tarnished old house to live in, a garden to keep my hands dirty, and sunsets to watch. Sitting here on my old cedar bench, my toes dug deep in the earth, herons swooping low over the water, and the sun an orange ball of fire slipping below the horizon, I figure I’ve had it just about as good as it gets.