Katie doesn’t drink beer, but when the beer guy comes by, she throws her hand in the air and orders one up. Then hands it to me. She does the same thing when the hotdog vendor approaches, though this time, she gets one for herself too.
It’s the perfect night. The air is mild and just the right temperature. The crowd is into the game, despite the fact that the Dodgers are not headed to the post-season, and Katie is even heckling the umpire over a bad strike call.
I want to freeze-frame this moment and hold onto it.
Katie is able to stay in the moment. To live in it. At least that seems to be the way she’s been doing things for the last few days.
Me? I’m trying. Trying like hell actually, but it’s hard.
“Can you believe that call? That was so obviously a ball.” She’s full of ire, her eyes on the field.
“You’re adorable when you’re angry,” I lean over and kiss her cheek.
She smiles. “You’re adorable all the time,” she nudges me with her elbow. “Now shut up with the compliments and watch the damn game.” Fuck I love this woman.
And apparently I’m admitting that to myself now. Great. That should help with the in-the-moment thing.
“Yes, ma’am,” I kiss her again, and then I relax into it. I drink beer; she drinks water. We eat hotdogs and ice cream and have one of the best nights of my life—even if it’s not the Phillies playing.
The Dodgers lose, but it was still a good close game, and as we sit in the back of the car, stuck in never-ending traffic, Katie takes my hand, resting her head on my shoulder.
“I was seven the first time I went to see a game in Fenway Park,” she starts, her voice distant, lost in the memory. “I thought it was the coolest place ever. My dad and I didn’t have great seats, we were high up in the bleachers, but it didn’t matter. It was the whole spectacle of it, you know?” She tilts her head up to look at me and I nod, grinning down on her. “It was just…fun. Hotdogs and Cracker Jacks, and people yelling all around us. Tonight reminded me of that, so thank you for canceling whatever incredible thing you had planned for us so we could go.”
“Katie, in case you’ve missed it, I’ll do anything for you.”
She smiles, snuggling into me, silent for a few moments before she speaks again. “Eric hated sports,” she laughs lightly like this amuses her. “We were the odd couple like that, because I love them. On Sundays in the fall, when I wasn’t working, he’d take Maggie out for the day and I’d sit around watching football,” she snorts. “He wouldn’t even get into the Super Bowl when the Patriots were playing.” She angles her head up to me again with an incredulous look. “What kind of guy doesn’t like the Super Bowl?” It’s a rhetorical question, so I don’t answer. “He and I were so well-matched with some things, and so at odds with others.”
It’s the first time I’ve ever heard her say something about Eric that didn’t include him being flawless. It’s hardly disparaging, but it’s certainly different for her.
She sighs, tightening her grasp on my hand.
“He was not the best driver, either,” she says after another quiet beat.
And this comment surprises me completely. I know he died in a car accident, but I was under the impression that it wasn’t his fault. Maybe I was wrong.
“He always got speeding tickets. Had a lead foot that would not be thwarted. I constantly worried whenever he drove Maggie around. I used to tease him that he’d die in a car accident.” She’s laughing, but it’s the saddest laugh I’ve ever heard, and my heart breaks for her. “It was a drunk driver. Did you know that?”
I shake my head, relieved somehow that Eric didn’t cause the accident. I don’t know why really, but I am.
“The driver walked away with only a two-inch laceration to his forehead. He was in the ED at the same time that they were working on Maggie.”
Jesus, I can’t even imagine. I find myself pulling her closer into me, holding her tighter.
“I can’t forgive him, Ryan,” she whispers like this admission somehow makes her a bad person. “It was his third DUI that he got caught for. He had a penchant for going to the bar and getting himself good and drunk before driving home. He left the bar that evening earlier than normal, and slammed into the side of Eric’s car, going over sixty in a thirty-five zone, after running the red light. His blood alcohol was three times the legal limit.”
My eyes slam shut and my breath stalls in my chest. My insides are on fire, anger being the most prominent emotion swirling inside of me. My parents are alcoholics, but they’ve never hurt anyone—other than themselves—or driven drunk as far as I know.
Would I be able to forgive them if they did?
“He emailed me this morning. The driver.” She looks up at me, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “He served four months in jail and was forced to go to rehab for a month. He also lost his license for an additional six months. That’s it. He killed a husband, a father, and a child, and that’s all he got. He’s out free, and they’re gone forever.”
I pull her onto my lap. She’s sitting sideways, her head resting on my chest.
“In the email, he asked for my forgiveness. It’s the first time I’ve heard from him, including after it happened. I never even got an apology. Nothing. And now he sends this via email and asks for me to absolve him of his sins. I don’t even know how he got my email address.”
I don’t know what to say to her. I wish I were one of those people who always knew the right thing to say. Who could spew out sage words of wisdom, and anecdotes, and bullshit that would turn her world into sunshine and fairies. But I’m not one of those people, so I just wrap my arms around her and hold her as close as I can so she knows she’s not alone.
“I always thought I was a forgiving person, and truth be told, I haven’t given the fucking prick much thought over the years. But now he’s invaded my world once again, and I can’t forgive him, Ryan. I can’t.”
She pulls back to look at me with such heartbreaking grief in her expression.
“Does that make me a bad person?”
“Katie, my sweetheart, the mere fact you’re even worried about that shows you’re not. I’m not sure many people could ever truly forgive someone who not only did that to their family, but showed such little remorse in doing it.”
She sighs heavily into my chest, my fingers gliding down the back of her silky waves. I know we’re getting closer and closer to our hotel, but I don’t want to let her go until I know she’s not berating herself over this.
That she’s not letting it consume her.
“I don’t hate him, Ryan, though a huge part of me wants to. But I still want to find him and beat the shit out of him for all the life he wasted. For the future he took away from Maggie, Eric, and me.”
“That doesn’t make you a bad person either, you know? It makes you human.”
“Yeah, maybe. But I feel like I should be further along with the stages by now. I keep bouncing back and forth between anger and depression. Bargaining I feel like I hit and passed, but acceptance is like a million miles off.”
I can’t offer much, but I can tell her the truth that I’ve been holding back for fear of her reaction. “Katie, if I were Eric, I would want you to find that acceptance. A guy who spent his whole life loving you the way he did, doesn’t want you to be like that. He’d want you to be happy and live your life to its fullest.”