Chapter Thirty-Nine

LARA

One Year After Alexis’ Death

It’s supposed to be spring. Easter is only a week away, but there’s still a pretty heavy chill in the air as Riley, Ethan and I walk across the cemetery to where my sister’s memorial lies. It’s hard to believe that it’s been a year since Alexis died, and less than six months since Ethan, Riley and I moved in together. It feels somehow like it’s been way longer than that and much shorter.

“Where we going?” Riley’s been asking the same question all morning, and I’ve been trying to find a way to explain to a two-and-a-half-year-old child that we’re visiting the grave of her mother. There’s no good way to do it, but I know I would feel weird if we didn’t, especially if we’d left Riley behind at home with a babysitter.

“We’re going to check on Mommy,” Ethan explains. I look at him sharply, we don’t have a huge amount of disagreements about how Riley should be brought up, but I can’t help but think this isn’t the best way to explain things to a child as young as Riley.

“Where is she?” Riley looks at me in confusion.

“We’re not going to actually see her, but the memorial for her,” I say. Of course, this just confuses her even more, not least of which because she has no idea what a memorial is.

“Remember when Mommy went away a year ago?” We all stop as Ethan starts into his explanation, and I try to think of how I can support both him and Riley.

“Mommy-mommy,” Riley says with a nod.

“Mommy-mommy? What do you mean?” Ethan asks.

We look at Riley in confusion.

“You’re other-mommy,” Riley says to me matter-of-factly.

I look from her to Ethan. This is the first time she’s ever mentioned anything like this before.

“Other-mommy?” Ethan echoes his daughter as he is just as confused as I am, apparently.

“Yes. Mommy left, now I have other-mommy,” Riley explains.

“Anyway, when Mommy left last year, Daddy and I had a memorial put up to her here,” I say, still trying to digest Riley’s logical conclusion and the nonchalant way she delivered it.

“But why?”

I look at Ethan again.

“So we can come here and remember her,” he says.

We get to Alexis’ memorial finally and stand there a few moments together. Riley gets bored first and starts walking around the little plot in circles, running her fingers over the little sculpture that Ethan had erected. I’m still trying to work my mind around being “other-mommy.”

“Where do you think she got that from?” Ethan reaches out and takes my hand in his, and shrugs.

“I have no idea,” he says.

“You haven’t said anything to her, have you?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve always just called you Lara or Aunt Lara or whatever, even in private,” he says.

“And I haven’t said anything about being her mother in any way,” I agree.

“She does talk to other kids. Maybe she got it from one of them, somehow?” I consider that for a moment as Riley starts to wander a bit. She’s a bit of a flight risk when we’re out like this, but no one else seems to be in the cemetery, and it’s fairly flat ground with nowhere to hide.

“I’m not sure how philosophical toddlers get,” I say after a moment’s thought.

“Well, they might ask about mommies and stuff,” Ethan points out. I have to concede that he’s right about that.

“In any case, it’s going to get interesting when she goes into daycare,” I say, smiling wryly. We finally agreed a few months ago that we’d start Riley in daycare after she turned three. As much as we both love spending so much time with her, it will be a real relief for my bosses for me to be able to come into work instead of spending half of the week working from home.

It’s been a complicated year since I started taking care of my niece as her guardian, but especially after moving in together things have been easier. We haven’t discussed the development of our relationship with Riley. We’ve barely talked about it between ourselves, but there’s something good about living in a house together, about not having to transport Riley back and forth.

“It’s going to be really interesting explaining things, you’re definitely right about that. And we can’t count on Riley not to drop hints that we’re going to have to explain,” Ethan says.

“Riley! Don’t wander off, sweetie,” I call out when I see her starting to wander to another grave, a few markers down.

“Kay!” Riley heads back in our direction and I look down at Alexis’ memorial, thinking about the sister I lost and all that I gained in losing her. I don’t know for sure if Alexis had any idea at all that things would end up with me and Ethan seeing each other again when she made that request in her will. I have to assume that it wasn’t what she intended, for sure. I think she just thought that it would bring the family as a whole back together. But I also have to think that on balance, she would, if not approve, then at least understand.

“We should head back home in a bit. I don’t think Riley really gets the point of this,” Ethan says.

I nod my agreement.

We’d made a pact to bring Riley to Alexis’ memorial every year on the date of Alexis’ death, as part of what we hoped would be her continued memory in her daughter’s life. Even if Riley views me as “other-mommy,” I want her to have something of Alexis in her life, even if it’s just stories and pictures.

I think about my sister, who I spent so much time being so resentful of. I can’t blame her completely anymore for what happened with Ethan, and I can’t fully blame Ethan either. Whatever their wrongs to me just in getting together in the first place, they did what people do every day — get married and have a child.

We get Riley back to the car and head back to our new house. We’d decided that a house would be better than an apartment and found a rent-to-own option that was close enough to both Ethan’s job and mine that it was manageable for both of us to get to work throughout the week. We might have to make changes later, but for the time being, we’re in a solid place, and Riley doesn’t have to spend a bunch of time traveling from one place to another for care and supervision.

I get started on dinner, a pot roast and potatoes, while Ethan sets Riley up to play in the living room. It’s late in the afternoon, and after dinner, it’ll be time to get Riley ready for bed. I look over at Ethan playing with Riley. It’s some kind of memory and matching game with pictures on cards, something to get her ready for daycare that she also just genuinely likes, at least for a few minutes at a time.

After a while Riley starts playing a solo game and Ethan comes into the kitchen to check on me. He wraps his arms around my waist and presses a kiss to the nape of my neck.

“Long day already, maybe it’s a good opportunity to go to bed early?” His hands wander a bit and I giggle as quietly as I can.

Riley doesn’t know about us yet. Of course, there’s no real way to explain it to her. But we’ve long since abandoned the idea of keeping things platonic between us, and the bedroom we share is as comfortable as it can be.

“Right after we get Riley to bed, I think I’d like to go to bed, too,” I reply.

At two-and-a-half, Riley manages to stay asleep for about a good five or six hours before waking up and wanting attention. That’s more than enough time to get some action in. Ethan’s hands drift down the front of my body, reminding me of the fact that it’s been a few days since we had enough energy to play between the sheets, and we’re both more than a little eager.

“Maybe she’ll do us a favor and sleep in, and we’ll have a chance in the morning, too,” Ethan suggests. I laugh at that a little louder.

“What are the odds? We’ll have to take what we can tonight.”

I feel a twinge of regret that my sister’s marriage was devoid of these exchanges, but I put the thought out of my mind completely. Whatever relationship Alexis had with Ethan, it’s long since over. Her death parted them, for good. I know Ethan thinks about my sister a lot, but I don’t think there’s a ghost between us.

I lean back against Ethan and think about how good it will feel to be with him again as soon as we get Riley to bed. I feel the heat starting up in my veins, and I can’t wait to be alone with the guy I used to think I would have a happily ever after with, and who, with any luck, I may yet have a happily ever after with again.