“Sherry isn’t here yet, but the kids are around somewhere.”
Angela and Eva hardly ever had occasion to be all alone. The only things they really had in common were that they’d been married to brothers, that they’d lost those brothers in the same awful way, and that they both cared for their mother-in-law. Between the two of them, they always made sure Sherry had somewhere to spend every holiday—thus a Labor Day BBQ at Angela’s today.
As they passed by the den, Lilly’s squeals deafened Angela.
“Aunt Eva!” Her youngest raced from the room and threw her arms around Eva’s legs.
“Lil!” Eva bent in half to hug her niece, long hair falling forward in luscious waves.
Lilly untangled herself. “Are you still gonna teach me how to draw fairy princesses today?”
“Uh, yeah. Obviously. Fairy princesses are my favorite.”
“Mine too. And I told Alicia Bluth that I’d come back from summer break knowing how to draw them better than she does, so we might have to practice all day.”
“I’m here until your mom kicks me out. Alicia Bluth will wish she’d never messed with you.”
Lilly grinned. “Oh, I’m gonna tell Kylee you’re here!” She skipped down the hallway.
Eva peered into the den. “Zach Attack! How’s it going, dude?”
Angela watched from the doorway as Eva approached her son, who sat engrossed in the TV show. But as soon as Eva got close, he flipped off the television and grinned at his aunt. “Want to hear about centipedes, Aunt Eva?”
Eva’s laugh trickled through the air like a graceful melody. She plopped down on the couch. “Who wouldn’t, Zacharoo?”
“I’ll get my new library book.” He leapt up and raced from the room.
“Bud, make sure your room is clean before Grandma gets here. Tell Lilly the same, please.”
Groans followed Angela’s request.
Angela sank onto the opposite end of the couch, allowing an audible sigh of relief to escape. It felt good to sit.
“Is there anything I can do to help with lunch?” Eva turned her knees toward Angela and crossed her legs, accentuating her gorgeous beaded sandals and manicured toes.
Tugging at her mustard-stained T-shirt that always seemed to show off her I’ve-had-babies pooch when she sat, Angela clasped a throw pillow to her abdomen. “It’s all ready, actually.”
“Great.”
Angela played with the golden tassel on the pillow, which had already been old when she and Wes purchased it fourteen years ago for their first real home. Even though her in-laws had been wonderful—allowing Wes and Angela to live with them for nearly two years while Wes finished school and Angela cared for Kylee—they’d been so excited to finally have a space of their own.
“So.” Eva played with her oversized hoop earring. “I got this call on Friday. Did you know that Brent and Wes signed up to run an ultra-marathon in New Zealand this spring?”
“No.” Of course Wes hadn’t mentioned the race. He probably knew how upset she’d be that he was running off to explore and play, leaving her to run the household by herself for the thousandth time.
Angela stuffed the thoughts down deep. She couldn’t let herself have any more emotional outbursts, which meant she needed to be better about disguising her feelings. As far as her children were concerned, things between their parents had been wonderful. They didn’t have to know about the fights, the tears, the fact they couldn’t seem to get on the same page.
It didn’t matter anymore. Wes was gone, and they’d never reach a resolution to their issues now. The best thing Angela could do was forget about them, put on a happy face, and move on.
“Aunt Eva, you’re here!” Kylee’s joyous exclamation filled the room as she rushed in and dropped into the chair where Zach had been sitting.
Her children’s reactions to their aunt made sense. Eva was cool, fun, spunky, free-spirited—basically everything Angela was not. Angela was the one who had to say no to their whims. The responsible one.
Eva only had to look after herself. Plus, she could literally afford to do whatever she wanted with her time.
“Good to see you, girl.” Eva reached across the divide and squeezed Kylee’s hand.
“What were you saying to Mom about an ultra-marathon?”
“Oh, I was just telling her that your dad and Uncle Brent signed up to run one in New Zealand.”
“Really?”
Angela shifted in her seat.
“Yeah, I got a call from some woman. She had no idea that Brent . . .” She swallowed, her eyes pooling with tears.
Kylee leaned toward her aunt, gripping her hand in both of her own. “You should do it.”
“Do what?” Eva squinted at her niece.
Yes, what was her daughter talking about?
“Run the race in his place. You know, like in memory of him or something. I dunno. Lots of people have done stuff like that. Like, there was this mom who ran the London Marathon in memory of her daughter who died of cancer. The daughter was sick for twenty-six weeks, so the mom ran a mile for every week her daughter lived after her diagnosis.”
Angela stared at Kylee, who had just said more in the last minute than she had in the last month. Revealed more, anyway. “Why did you happen to read about that?”
Avoiding Angela’s gaze, Kylee shrank back in her seat a bit. “I thought about doing something like that in memory of Dad.”
Oh, sweet girl. Angela’s heart twisted, and she longed to cross the room, gather her daughter in her arms, and cry with her.
But the thought of Kylee, stiff and unresponsive at her offer of comfort, kept her still. She didn’t want to make her daughter uncomfortable, especially in front of Eva.
“That is the best idea in the world, Kylee. Get over here.”
Without hesitation, Kylee moved to the couch, allowing Eva to embrace and snuggle her close. The sound of quiet crying rose to meet the silence in the den.
And Angela, sitting not five feet away, stood and snuck into the kitchen to pour the drinks for lunch.
5
Her niece was a genius.
“You should do it.” Eva couldn’t get Kylee’s words from last night out of her head as she emerged from the subway stop nearest the heart center and crossed the street with hundreds of other New Yorkers on their way to another day of work.
Something about the day felt new, the air laden with possibility. A hint of saffron and cinnamon tingled Eva’s nose as she strode past a local Indian eatery, a bakery, and a trendy independent bookstore all packed together on one street corner.
Kylee might not have meant for Eva to take her suggestion seriously, but something about it resonated deep.
Because it was a chance to feel closer to Brent in an even bigger way than volunteering at his favorite charity. To honor his legacy. And maybe to rediscover the color of life that had vanished with his absence.
As Marc said, Brent had been the king of big moves. He’d have completely supported this one.
Heading toward her destination, Eva found the number she needed in her phone.
“Ultimate Race Adventures, Tina speaking.”
“Hi, Tina, this is Eva Jamison. Brent Jamison’s wife.”