Chapter Five
Meghan
On Saturday morning, I find myself picking at the paper napkin in my hand, waiting for Cindy to arrive at the coffee shop. She’s not late. I’m early. Like twenty minutes early.
When eleven finally rolls around, Cindy walks in wearing a bright yellow top with little pink flowers and Bermuda shorts, with sandals. Her smile is warm and genuine and her eyes light up when she approaches my table. “I’m going to grab a quick coffee. Do you need a refill?” she asks.
“No, I’m good.” She doesn’t need to know that I’m on my third cup of the morning already.
While I wait for Cindy to return, I glance at the small menu that’s printed on an index card on the table. They don’t offer too much, but what they do have is supposed to be out of this world.
“Sorry I’m a few minutes late,” Cindy says as she slides into the booth across from me.
“No, you’re not. I’m early.” I pick at the napkin once more, dropping little pieces of paper on the small pile I created earlier.
“So…how have you been?” she asks, her warm blue eyes friendly and filled with a bit of concern.
“Fine, I guess.” There’s that word again. Fine. I’m always fine. Fine, fine, fine, fine, FINE! “Actually, no. That’s not necessarily true.”
“Okay, what’s up?” she asks, sitting up a little taller in the booth.
“I mean, things really are…fine, but there’s just something that I wanted to, maybe, talk to you about. But if it’s none of my business, then I completely understand. You can tell me to get lost and I wouldn’t hold it against you.”
“Meghan,” she says, reaching over and resting her hand on mine, “whatever you want to ask me is fine.” Fine. See, even Cindy uses that word.
“Okay, well, what I was wondering…it’s been a few years since, you know, your husband passed away.” Deep breath. “Have you ever thought about, I don’t know, dating?” Holy shit, I can’t breathe.
Cindy smiles once more and just that slightest gesture on her part starts to put me at ease. “Actually, yes. Dale passed away almost four years ago this July. While it was difficult the first couple of years, lately, I’ve been spending a bit of time with someone.”
“And what made you decide to…you know, do that?” I spin my coffee cup in my hands just to give them something to do.
“Well, I think it was when I realized how lonely I truly was. Dale and I had twenty-five wonderful years together and two great sons. They were both in college when he passed, living in their own place in Richmond. I was all alone at home. Even though I had friends and family who would stop by, it wasn’t quite the same, right?”
I nod my head in agreement.
“Well, after I grieved for Dale and the love we had, I decided that it was time to start living again. I wasn’t doing anything but sitting at home, or joining groups to keep myself occupied. I certainly wasn’t living anymore. I was going through the motions.
“One day last year, my boys came home and they told me it was time. They encouraged me to go out and meet new people – men, actually – which was as awkward of a conversation as you could imagine.”
I offer her a smile, trying to imagine how uncomfortable it would be for both mother and sons to openly talk about dating. Lord knows my grandparents don’t seem to have that particular uncomfortable gene, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy their little sex-laced powwows.
“Anyway, to be honest, I had been thinking about it for a bit, but didn’t know how they would feel. He was their father, for heaven’s sake. The last thing I would want is them to feel like I was trying to replace him.”
I nod in understanding, though my emotions seem to have gathered in my throat and are making it difficult to speak.
“It was like they gave me that last bit of encouragement I needed to take that step. Now, don’t get me wrong, they were baby steps at first. I had coffee with a couple of nice gentlemen in town, and a few dinners, but nothing serious, really. Until about six months ago. I met someone who makes me smile again.”
And now I’m smiling in return. Her eyes light up when she speaks of this man, and I can tell she’s completely smitten. “That’s wonderful. How did you meet?”
“Actually, we met at the grocery store. He had his granddaughter with him, buying stuff for s’mores, when I dropped a can of peas. It rolled toward him, he bent to pick it up, and that was it. We talked for just a few moments, but it was nice. For the first time, it didn’t feel forced or uncomfortable. When we ran into each other again a few weeks later, we decided to grab a cup of coffee. We’ve been enjoying casual dinners and outings ever since.”
Reaching over, now I’m the one squeezing her hand. “I am truly happy for you. He would be a lucky man to spend time with you, Cindy.” And I absolutely mean it. I’ve come to really enjoy our conversations, though always much more brief and not quite as personal before today.
“Thank you.” Cindy glances at me before she continues. “You know, they say there is no timeline on grief, and I truly believe that, Meghan. You can’t force these things; not when love was involved. You lost someone. Someone very dear to you, and there’s no set time on when you should move forward. It’s your schedule, your life. Take it day by day.”
Nodding, I take another sip of my lukewarm coffee. “I, uh…I have a date tonight.”
“Is this your first?”
I nod and blink back tears.
“How do you feel?”
“Scared. I mean, I’m not afraid of him – Adam, Adam Sullivan. We went to school together and ran into each other last weekend. He was always a nice kid. Anyway, he asked what I had been up to and wanted to catch up. At first, I almost said no. It felt wrong, like I was cheating on Josh, but then I remembered that Josh was gone. It was like that smack upside the head that leaves you a bit stunned and your head kinda foggy. Before I could talk myself out of it, I said yes.”
“And now you’re freaking out?” she asks with a smile.
“I’m totally and utterly in the freak-out mode.”
“That’s natural. Fear is logical when facing something like this. But you could either let fear run your life or overcome it. It takes a strong person to not let fear win, to stand above it, but when you do, the rewards are so much sweeter.”
Again, I nod my head in understanding, as it seems I’ve done so much since we started talking. She’s completely right, of course, but sometimes, something as powerful as fear, it’s hard not to slink back in the corner and let it control your life. I’ve been doing that for more than two years now, and I’m not sure I’m really strong enough to overcome something that has controlled me.
“Tonight, try not to get lost in your head – or more accurately, your memories. Tonight, is a stepping-stone. Think of it like trying on a pair of shoes. Give them a whirl, walk around in them for a bit, and test the feel. It doesn’t mean you have to buy the shoes.”
Her analogy makes me giggle. “Shoes?”
“It was the first thing that popped into my head,” she replies with a shrug and a smile. “But, Meghan,” she continues, reaching for my hand, “most importantly, have fun. You deserve it. And whether you want to think about it or not, you know, in your heart, Josh would want you to.”
The tears come unchecked, without care or worry that I’m in a public setting. Cindy squeezes my hand, but doesn’t say a word, just lets me shed a few tears. Tears of fear and understanding, because at the end of the day, I know she’s right. He would want me happy. That’s what our nightly visits mean, right? When he arrives in my dreams and his words from that night – that night everything changed – play over and over again. Like a record that keeps repeating, I hear his words, but am too afraid to really listen.
We sit together for the next hour, enjoying lunch and talking. She tells me about her sons, her first grandson, and what keeps her busy. She talks a bit more about dating, though doesn’t go into too many details. I want to ask her who this special man is that she keeps referring to with a smile on her face and light in her eyes, but I don’t feel right. I don’t want to overstep. It seems so personal.
So I sit quietly, and listen.
And enjoy our time together.
When it’s time to say farewell, Cindy gives me a hug and wishes me good luck tonight. We exchange cell phone numbers, and I promise to text her tomorrow with how it went. The thought of having someone – someone who has been in my shoes – actually makes me smile. A real smile, not one of those fake ones that I’ve been wearing for so long.
As we part ways on the sidewalk, I think about the one other person I want to share my news with. He’s the one man who has always been by my side, holding my hand while I cry. The other person who understands what I’m going through, maybe more so than anyone else I know.
My dad.
* * *
When I pull into the driveway, I see his car parked by the garage. He steps out of the garage, wiping something that looks like grease off his hand with a red shop towel. “Hey, baby girl, what brings you out here today?” he asks, a broad smile on his face.
“I wanted to see you,” I answer, walking up to him and placing a kiss on his scruffy face. “What are you doing?”
“Changing the oil in the mower. I didn’t get a chance to do it this spring, and since your grandparents were on their way to have a nap – which I’m pretty sure is code for something I don’t want to think about – I thought now was as good of a time as any.”
“Mind if I join you?” I ask, following him into the two-car detached garage.
“I’m always up for a visit,” he says, walking over to where the push mower is positioned on the workbench.
I watch him work for a few minutes, wondering if he knows that something’s on my mind and that’s why he’s not pushing me to talk. He seems to always be a bit more in-tune with me than with everyone else. Maybe that’s because he understands more than anyone else.
“So, I have something to tell you,” I start slowly, sitting down on one of the stools by his workbench.
“What’s up?” he asks, turning and giving me his undivided attention.
“Well, I have a thing tonight. I guess you might call it a date, even though I’m not one hundred percent sure it’s classified as one. One of my classmates from high school is home and asked me to dinner.” I’m nervous, I can tell. My hands wring together on my lap as I play with the ring that still adorns my left finger.
Dad offers me a warm smile. “That’s good, Meggy. Whether it’s a date or not, it’s good to go out and enjoy the company of friends.”
“I know,” I start, my eyes diverting to the floor. “It just seems weird, you know? Like I’m cheating or something.”
Dad exhales and comes to sit on the stool beside me. “Now that I understand completely. And to be honest, you never really get over the guilty feeling. The longer you live without someone, the more you start to accept that new life that they are no longer a part of. Part of me will always feel guilty that I’m living and your mother isn’t.”
“You’ve never really dated.” It wasn’t a question.
He glances my way. “No, not much. For the longest time, I was busy raising six daughters and working. The last thing I had time for was dating.”
“You should, you know. You’re a very handsome man, father,” I tell my dad with a smile. His hair is graying much quicker than it used to, but his green eyes still sparkle bright and his smile is warm and friendly.
Dad chuckles and glances my way. “Well, thank you, daughter.”
We sit there silently for a few moments before I continue. “We would all be okay with it, you know. I mean, we don’t all sit around and talk about it, but I think we all want the same thing: for you to be happy.”
“I am happy, sweetheart. I have a beautiful family that seems to be growing in leaps and bounds lately. I do enjoy friends on occasion, and that does include lady friends.”
“Wow, more than one? Dad, you’re a playboy!”
That makes him laugh. “No, never more than one at a time. I don’t think I could handle any more than that in my old age.”
“You’re not old, Dad.”
“No, but I’m getting older.”
“You know, I was talking to my friend Cindy from book club. We met for coffee and had a nice chat. She’s a widow too and shared some of her thoughts with me. She’s super sweet and would make a great dinner companion, you know, if you’re ever looking,” I add with a shrug.
“My own daughter trying to set me up? How did I get so lucky,” he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me close.
“No, how did we get so lucky to have you for our dad?” I ask, giving him another kiss.
“Thank you, sweet girl. And for the record, I’m very happy that you’re going to dinner with this young man tonight. I know it’ll be difficult for you. I know it may feel a bit like cheating, but the thing to remember is that Josh would want you happy and to move forward. You know it, and I know it.” He gives me that look that makes tears well up in my eyes. If anyone knows that for a fact, it would be my dad. After all, he was in that emergency room with me when I talked to Josh for the final time.
Nodding, I set my head on his shoulder and just enjoy the moment. Memories of my childhood come flooding back, as I used to do this exact same thing when I was younger. Especially after Mom died and I needed to feel comfort and be close to my remaining living parent. “I miss him so much, Daddy.”
“I know, baby girl. I know.” He lets me cry on his shoulder for a few minutes until the tears no longer come.
Before I can wipe away the remnants of the shed tears, a shadow falls over us. “Oh, look, Orvie! Our Meggy Pie is here!” Grandma bellows, clapping her hands victoriously.
“I see, Emmie. There’s nothing wrong with my vision,” Grandpa says, adjusting his glasses.
“What brings you home on this Saturday afternoon?” Grandma asks, walking over to Grandpa and goosing his behind on her way by.
“Behave, naughty girl,” Grandpa coos, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. The entire display makes my stomach churn and bile catch in my throat.
“I thought I’d come see Dad.”
“Oh, I enjoy that myself,” Grandpa adds.
“Hanging out with Dad?” I ask, glancing toward the older man who slightly resembles my sisters and me.
“No. Coming.” Grandma cracks up laughing at her husband’s comment.
“Jesus, see what I have to deal with here?” Dad mumbles quietly beside me. “It’s like living in a brothel.”
I crack up as my dad rubs his temples.
“Have you seen Payters lately? I bought her a book and wanted to drop it off. Maybe I’ll go to the shop Monday,” Grandma says.
“Not in the last few days, but I’m sure she’d love a visit in the middle of her workday from her grandma.” She’ll hate it, actually, but serves her right for sending Grandma to my house a few weeks ago to talk about vibrators. Apparently, my sweet oldest sister told my dearest grandma that mine was broken. Grandma came racing right over with three new models to choose from.
And test.
She offered to let me test them out and report back on my findings.
“The book has many theories and predictions for conception. A few old wives’ tales too. There’s this one about butter and the flesh sword.”
“It has pictures, too,” Grandpa boosts.
“I’m sure she’ll love and appreciate the gift.”
“We went ahead and practiced the entire chapter twelve. We want to make sure the sex we’re recommending is safe,” Grandma adds.
Grandpa leans in closer. “Chapter twelve was my favorite. When paired with one of my love pills, my sword was able to attack the pink fortress for hours that night.”
I choke on the very air I try to breathe. “You should tell her that, you know. Payton and Dean really appreciate the first-hand knowledge.”
“Oh, there wasn’t much hand involved. When my pill is in full effect, we can be paddling up Coochie Creek half the night, if you know what I mean.”
“Yes, Grandpa, we all know what you mean.”
“Well, we better get back inside. It’s almost time for Family Feud and I promised Orvie a little late night puffin’ on the doobie before beddy-by.”
With that, Grandpa wraps his hand around Grandma’s waist, resting his hand on her ass, and leads her back to the house. He whispers in her ear and makes her giggle in a way that makes my heart lurch in my chest.
“And you wonder why I don’t date? You expect me to bring someone to my house and have to deal with that?” Dad asks, following my mom’s parents with his eyes as they make their way up the front porch and disappear into the house.
“They’re definitely not for everyone,” I reply with a laugh. “But we were all able to find someone who can deal with their brand of quirkiness. You can too.”
Dad snorts. “You may be right.”
“I am right,” I reply, walking over and giving him another kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for the talk.”
“You’re welcome. My door is always open for you, Meggy. Just remember to take it day by day. He would want you to live.”
Swallowing over the tennis ball sized lump that has suddenly appeared in my throat, I nod my head. “I’ll try.”
“Start with tonight. Take it slow. You don’t have to decide anything after one evening, Meg.”
“I know. Thanks, Dad.” I give him a hug and start to walk toward my car.
“Hey, Meg?” When I glance over my shoulder, I find him standing in the doorway of the garage. “The heart is an amazing thing. You don’t have to replace someone who once filled your heart with joy. It turns out it’ll make room for more, providing you with enough love for two people. It has taken me a long time, but I’m learning this.”
Glancing down at the ring still adorning my left hand, I nod, blink away the tears, and slip into my car. It isn’t until I’m halfway between Dad’s house and my own that I really stop to think about his words.
Wait.
He’s learning about enough love for two people?
Does that mean what I think it does? Is dad dating someone more seriously than he may have let on? Could he be falling in love with someone new, someone who isn’t my mother? And how do I feel about this?
I’m happy, this I know right away.
Yet so confused on how this actually happens.
My heart aches for one man. It craves him like the desert needs water.
Could it really be possible to love another?