“Can I be honest with you? I kind of felt like getting pregnant was your only goal in life. Like you didn’t care about the health of our marriage as long as you got another chance to be pregnant. But every time we lost a pregnancy, I watched the light go a little dimmer in your eyes. And after that last baby, the light went out entirely. That was when I stopped trying. That was when I made that decision for us, that there would be no more pregnancies.” I lift my head and look into her face. “I’m sorry about that.”
“My light went out?” she repeats.
“It got dimmer and dimmer and then it was gone. It was like you were right in front of me but disappearing little by little each day. Then you were gone, and I was all alone.”
“I’m sorry. I never knew that.” She heaves in a breath. “I think you’re right, though.”
I make an exaggerated shocked face at her and she chuckles at me.
“Shut up,” she says. “You’re right. I was on a mission to become a mom and I wasn’t going to let anything stand in my way, including you.”
“I wanted to be on your team, but I couldn’t, not with how hard it was for you.”
“When we became foster parents to that one baby, it was all I could do to look at him.”
We had gone through the classes together, and she fulfilled the requirements to become a foster parent just like I did, but she wasn’t ever really in it to win it.
“I know. You barely looked in his direction, unless you had to.”
“I couldn’t take losing another baby.”
“I would have kept him forever if they’d let us.”
“Do you think Aaron is going to let us take the kids?” she asks.
“If we can keep the cat alive for thirty days, then yes, I’d say there’s a good chance.”
She freezes. “What? What does the cat have to do with anything?”
I laugh. “Call it a test run.”
“He’s testing us with a cat?” she says, her voice a little loud, so I shush her. “He’s testing us with a cat?” she whispers vehemently.
“Thirty days with the cat proves we can take care of something.”
“It’s a fucking cat!” she says with a little growl to her voice.
“It’s still a commitment,” I remind her. “If we end up with the kids, we’re committing to a lifetime. Cats don’t live nearly as long as kids.”
“I can’t believe that dickwad felt the need to test me.”
“Why didn’t you and Aaron ever date?” I suddenly ask. I’ve always wanted to know the answer to this but never found the right time to ask.
“Eww,” she says, and she pretends to gag. “That would be gross.”
“So you never had any feelings for one another.”
She shakes her head. “Never ever, and if you keep talking about it, I’m going to throw up.”
I get quiet.
Suddenly she admits, “I was jealous as hell of Lynda for a while, though. Not going to lie.”
“Why were you jealous?”
“She took away his time. Before her, I had all of it. After her, I had to share. I didn’t particularly like that, in the beginning.” She makes a fist in my hair which forces my gaze up. “Then you came along and I had someone to love, too, and it became easier. Lynda became my second-best friend, after Aaron. We talked about everything.”
“When your light got dim, you pushed her away as well. And Aaron, too.”
She nods. “She was pissed at me for a while. She eventually gave up on trying to reach out to me, and I still feel bad about that.”
“Aaron never gave up,” I remind her.
“No, he never did. Even when I was at my lowest, he didn’t stop calling or reaching out to me. He refused to accept my silence. It was damned annoying, to be honest.”
I know how annoying it was because when he couldn’t get hold of Bess, he’d call me to find out what was going on. I’d talk him out of flying to us, because I didn’t know what Bess would do if he showed up, and he’d eventually give in as long as I kept him updated on situations. He used me like a lifeline to Bess, and I was okay with that.
“He doesn’t want Lynda’s brothers to have the kids,” I tell her. “I know that much. He says they’re assholes.”
She snorts. “Lynda’s brothers are assholes. The one with the mustache hit on me at the funeral.”
“Shut up,” I say. I stare at her. “For real? What did you do?”
“I ignored him, and he finally went away.”
“You should have told me. I would have punched him in the face.”
She looks down at me and rolls her eyes. “We weren’t exactly talking right then.”
Bess had flown down to Aaron’s hometown the minute that she learned about Lynda and she’d stayed with Aaron until I got there the day of the funeral. Then she’d left. It was like we orbited around one another like backward magnets all day. I was honestly glad she was gone.
“Aaron asked me to bring you to the lake,” I admit.
“He did?” She stares up at the ceiling.
“Yes. I think he thought he could fix everything.”
“Are we fixed?”
“Well, you’re no longer acting like you hate my guts,” I say flippantly.
“I told you I’m tired of hating you.”
“I kind of like where we’re at right now.” I close my eyes, and she keeps rubbing my hair. It feels so good to be touched that I think I could stay like this forever and be happy.
“Thirty days, huh?” she muses. Her voice gets even quieter. “Do…do you think he’ll live for thirty days?”
I am silent for a moment. “I’m not sure.”
“He didn’t give me a time frame.”
“I don’t think he has one.” He did tell me that he wouldn’t let Sam ask the doctor how long he had left. He prefers not to know.
I prefer not to know either. Because when it happens, Bess is going to be devastated. No matter how much you prepare for death, even when you know it’s coming, it still hits you like a ton of bricks the moment it happens. And I think it’s going to hit Bess even harder than she can imagine when he’s finally gone.
I just hope her light keeps shining.
37
Bess
Eli and I are sitting on the porch with Kerry-Anne and Miles when Aaron calls to let us know they’re on the way home. He called when their plane landed and informed us that they would be back soon. Aaron sounded tired, but he said in a just a few words that the visit with his mom was a good one, and he would explain more when he got back to Lake Fisher.
Eli sits with Miles in the bouncy seat next to him, and Eli occasionally reaches over and spins the toys that hang in front of Miles’s face. Kerry-Anne is in the yard picking some weedy-looking flowers from the tiny patch of grass in front of the cabin.
“Do you think he’s always this well-behaved?” I ask Eli. I have discovered that as long as Miles is fed, has a clean butt, and isn’t tired, he’s amazingly well-tempered, even to the point that it’s a little off-putting.