He’d glared at me. “How would you do that?”
I’d grinned. “Can you get Bess to come to the lake?”
“Dude, I can’t even get Bess to look in my direction,” he’d admitted. “You saw how she shut down when I got here.”
“Just get her to come to the lake. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Eli had nodded. “I’ll see if I can get her there, but you’ll have to keep her there.”
I had nodded and knocked back another whiskey. Then I heard Miles crying upstairs. “He wants a bottle,” I’d said. I started to get up, but I was already wobbly on my feet.
Eli got to his feet. “Sit down. I’ll get it.”
Eli went to the kitchen and made a bottle for Miles, and then he disappeared up the stairs. He’d held Miles all through the funeral today and had carried him around the whole evening, so I wasn’t worried about Miles being fearful of a new face. Miles rarely ever met a stranger, anyway. I heard Eli moving around with Miles and then I heard his voice as he sang a song to him that made me smile. Eli was a terrible singer. He always had been.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Jake had asked me, his voice quiet.
“I don’t want any of this, Jake. But this is what I’ve got.”
He’d squeezed my shoulder and left his hand to linger there. “This is going to work out, no matter what,” he’d assured me. He squeezed my shoulder again.
So now, when I see the lights go out next door at Eli and Bess’s cottage, I open my front door and step out into the darkness of my front porch. I can’t go too far because my kids are asleep inside. I sit down on the top step of the porch and rest my elbows on my knees. A gentle breeze teases the hair on my arms, and I close my eyes so I can enjoy it. It’s funny what makes you feel peaceful when you know your life is almost over.
A few minutes later, the whisper of feet in the grass gets my attention. Eli’s bulk settles on the top stair next to me. “So, we’re doing this?” he asks.
“Yep.” I kick at a piece of rock on the step, knocking it to the ground. “We’re doing this.”
“You want to tell me the plan?”
“Not sure I have one yet,” I admit. But I do. I do have a plan. I know exactly how this needs to go. I look at him. “You want to save your marriage?”
He nods. “I still love her. She just doesn’t love me back.”
“What did you do to make her hate you?”
He looks everywhere but in my direction. “I let her fall out of love with me.”
“Was there anything that started it?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing specific. I just let it die. I didn’t take enough care of it. Now she gets mad at me for breathing.” He heaves in a breath. “Are you sure you don’t want to just go with Jake? He might be the better choice.” His voice is quiet and heavy, and his hesitance hurts me deep inside.
“We’ll see,” I reply.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I have chemo tomorrow. While I’m gone, Gabby, Jake and Katie’s oldest daughter, is going to babysit. Come over while she’s here and help her with the kids. Take one of them fishing or something.”
“What about Bess?” he asks, his voice wary.
“I’m going to take Bess with me. To chemo.”
“Oh, okay.” He scratches his head.
I grin. “She’ll be ready to get away from you by breakfast time.”
He cocks his head to the side and shrugs like it’s inevitable. “Very true.”
“So, that’s our plan. Starting tomorrow.” I lumber to my feet and he sits there, not moving. “You okay?”
He nods. “It’s not me I’m worried about.”
“Well, quit worrying. It’s going to work out the way it works out.”
“Okay.” He sighs heavily.
“Go to bed. My kids will exhaust you tomorrow, even with help.”
He snorts out a laugh. “They can’t be that bad.”
“Sure, they’re not.” I laugh too, and I leave him sitting on the top step of my porch. I go inside and go to the kids’ room. Sam and Kerry-Anne are sharing a set of bunkbeds, so I go and pull their covers over them. Sam looks soft when she’s sleeping, and I can almost fool myself into thinking she doesn’t hate me right now.
Miles is in a portable crib in my room, so I watch him breathing, counting the rise and fall of his breaths. Lynda never could sleep until she’d watched ten rises and falls of his chest. She did it with all the kids. So I count now, satisfied when I get to ten. Then I get into bed, sliding between the cool sheets.
Chemo—and everything else—starts tomorrow. I need to be well rested. This shit is going to get real, real fast.
5
Bess
The cottage is empty when I get up and go in search of coffee. The crick in my neck from sleeping on the couch is killing me. Eli went to bed before me. He could have given me the bed, but he didn’t. He did leave room for me, I noticed, when I walked by the bedroom to go to the bathroom. He’d slept on the left, like he did when we used to sleep together. But I couldn’t force myself to get into the bed with him. Once up on a time, I’d have crawled into bed with him and wrapped my arms around him from behind. He would have grumbled and rolled over, and then pulled me against his chest. He stopped doing that a long time ago, long before I stopped getting in bed and wrapping my arms around him.
I look around the room. I have a lot to do to pack this place up. Most of the furniture will be sold with the cottage, I assume, but we have to decide what to do with all the knick-knacks and pictures. I’m guessing that we’re going to box them all up and put them in storage. I pick up the picture that rests on the mantel. It’s a picture of me and Eli on the day we got married. We got married standing beneath the arbor near the dock here at Lake Fisher. The day had been perfect. The picture almost hurts my heart to look at it, so I set it back down.
A knock sounds on the door. I walk over and open it, and I’m startled when I find Aaron standing in the doorway. He leans against the doorframe and grins at me.
“Bess,” he says. Then he rushes toward me and grabs me tightly, lifting me in the air as he spins me around. He sets me down and looks at me. “Nice jammies,” he teases, as he pulls a lock of my hair. I look down at my ratty old pajamas with the ducks on them and grin.
“Not everyone can look this sexy in duck jammies,” I reply. I give him a small curtsy.
“True,” he says. He looks around the room. “This place hasn’t changed at all.”
“No one has been here in a while.” I finally look at him. “When did you get here?”
“We got here the day before you did.” He looks everywhere but at me, like he’s trying to take in every piece of the room.
“I thought I saw your curtain move last night. I didn’t know you were here.”
“I was being a creepy stalker last night.” He shrugs. “I wanted to come and say hello, but it was late.” He grins at me. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he says quietly. “How long are you staying?”