“Well, if she was so damned delicious, why'd you give it up?
“Because I was in love with you.”
“Watch it.”
“Baby. It was way before us. And I was in love with you.”
Max kneels to smile at me, happy love shining from his ghostly blue eyes. He blows me a kiss like we used to do. I catch it and press it to my lips, saved.
With a child’s curiosity, Lorna asks, “What do I taste like?”
I whisper, “You're real.”
Their argument halts.
Barry stands up, tears springing to his eyes. He searches our living room for his old friend, backing against the A-frame window, sunshine behind him. “Max!!”
Since nobody but me can see my husband, I must play the role of medium. “He's looking at you, Barry.”
Barry flicks scared eyes my way. “Where is he?”
“He's standing right here.” I motion, but stay quiet as Max purposefully abandons that space, walking to look out the glass door, his best friend looking at empty air instead.
“Max! God, buddy! I’m so fucking sorry.” Barry crumbles, just a mess. “Please, please forgive me.”
I look to my husband.
His life stolen.
His decision now.
He swallows his anger and says, “I forgive you, Barry.”
I relay the message, my voice hoarse, “He says he forgives you.”
Gravity gets the best of Bear, dragging his heartbreak to the couch where my sister wraps him in her arms as he sobs.
She’s kissing his hair, his neck.
I’ve never seen her like this.
Max pulls my focus as I hear him stammer, “I’ve…I’ve gotta go.”
I look behind me, don’t want to lose him. “No!”
We lock eyes, his clogged with emotion, not all of them good. “I’ll be back. I just need a moment.”
I nod, and turn to Barry’s almost shouted question, “What'd he say?!”
“He's gone.”
Lorna whispers, “You okay?”
He wipes his nose, barely able to think. “I…uh…I gotta go for a walk!”
She tenderly asks, “You want me to come?”
“No. I gotta go alone.”
“Okay.”
My sister who used to believe love was dumb, watches him stumble out of our front door.
“He's real!”
Lorna blinks at me, just lost, unable to object, call me crazy, deny that the impossible is possible. Relinquishing disbelief she simply asks, “How long have you seen him?”
Honestly, I haven’t counted the days, nor care to. “I was a mess. I might have starved to death if he hadn't shown up.”
“But for how long, Abby? Can you spend the rest of your life with the ghost of your husband?”
“Why not?”
“Because you need someone to touch. You're a human being. You need that! Believe me, I went without it for a fuck of a long time. It's not healthy.”
“No offense,” I begin, hoping she’ll drop it and let me have this moment, “but you don't know what I need.”
“I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy! Stop talking.” Grabbing the wooden arms of my chair I rise up, disappointed in her. “I’m going to make us some dinner. We need more to eat than wine and cynicism.”
I leave my sister staring after me.
I will never let her diminish my happiness again.
Life is too fucking short.
Chapter 26
Max
I’m here with Abby —though she doesn’t know it — as she’s making coffee when Barry comes downstairs in his pajamas.
He looks around the room for me. I don’t want to talk to him anymore. Yesterday was more than enough.
She pours almond milk into his cup, aware of how he likes his coffee from their years of friendship.
Barry is watching her, wondering how to speak to my wife when he’s the reason she’s not making coffee the way I like it.
“I’m sorry you had to sleep on the couch,” he offers. “I forgot the sofa bed broke.”
She shrugs, “It's fine. The couch itself isn't broken,” meaning sure you can’t pull it out anymore, but it’s still a couch.
Handing him his caffeine, she hops up on the counter, sunlight streaming from the window onto her black NYC T-shirt, and the I Love NY mug in her hands. I’d bet money she’s not aware of the loyalty she’s displaying. That’s my wife.
Barry looks around again and can’t help but ask, “Is he here?”
“No,” she smiles, “I woke up and found him watching me sleep,” reluctant to admit, “So I guess I'm glad you came. At least now I know I'm not bonkers.”
Barry takes a sip, muttering, “Glad I'm good for something.”
Fishing for her forgiveness. I know him, that’s what he’s doing. I almost show myself to her, tell her his ploy, but her face is so soft, so relieved I’m real.
Can’t make her angry again.
Making her happy is the reason I’m here.
But why do I know that?
Abby gently says, “Barry,” turning his head by her tone, “You have to forgive yourself now.”
“Can you?”
“Yes.”
Barry blinks away from her, uncomfortable. “What have you guys been up to?”
God, look at her. “We went to a bookstore.” So happy to have someone she can tell, “I read a book to him — Little Women.”
Again I almost become visible, so I can join in on this and tell him she made me. But he couldn’t hear me, and I don’t wanna answer a bunch of questions. I’m still mad, if I’m honest. And there’s nothing to be but honest anymore.
Barry stares at her. “Shut up.”
“The whole thing!”
He shakes his head, “No no no no no!” unable, unwilling, to picture it. Neither of us were book readers, especially ones from Louisa May Alcott, a woman who wrote about her family way back in the mid-1800’s. When they wore petticoats. I mean, come on!
Abby laughs, “Truth! Other than that we've just been spending time together.” Her smile becomes thoughtful. “He's here, you know?”
“Wild. But…”
Abby cuts him off, “Don’t!” pointing at him, smile gone. “I already heard it from my sister.”
“No doubt,” chuckles Barry. “She's a ball buster.”
“Apparently you don't want your balls.”
“Oh I do. She loves them.”
Abs shudders, jumps off the counter, “I'm sorry I went there!”
And behind me I hear Lorna yawning extra-loudly to alert them she’s downstairs. Probably been hiding from sight listening to how they were doing.
I never visited him after that night, like I did Abs and my folks. Couldn’t see his face, and I could not tolerate watching him drink away what he’d done.
Never knew he’d gotten sober.
I can’t help but wish he’d chosen that path before it was too late for me. Sure, this wasn’t his fault. I chose to walk him home. But I wouldn’t have had to if he weren’t a drunk asshole that night and so many before it, and it was my caring about him that had my feet walking away from our anniversary party to ensure his stayed out of bars.