“But he did know empathy well. There were times I needed him and he could comfort like a pro.”
“Which is what he was,” Joe reminded her. “Let me ask you something. If you could wave a magic wand and have anything you want, what would it be?”
“Ah, you might have found my fatal flaw,” she said. “Not that I would wish for too much, but that I want too little. All I ever wanted was someone to be tender with. Someone to trust and love and believe in. I learned early on that my husband wasn’t perfect, but then neither was I so why would I judge? I had always hoped that if I could be thrilled with the love of a simple, honest, dependable man, that he would therefore be grateful for me. Even with the rough patch we were traveling through, I still believed it was possible. But now he’s gone and I’ll never know.”
Joe leaned toward her and kissed her. “It’s still possible, Anna,” he said. “I’d like to apply for the job.”
ELEVEN
Michael called his mother at about ten in the morning, respectful of the fact that it was Saturday and she had been working late every day. “I thought I’d swing by the house and make sure everything is handled—like trash collected, yard and pool clean and serviced, you know. Things Dad would have done.” Though even Michael knew that Chad wasn’t that great with household chores.
“Oh, Michael, that’s not necessary, really. I called the yard and pool people and they’re on top of it. And I’m not going to be home today. I’m driving up to the wine country with a friend.”
“A friend? Who?”
“Someone I’ve known for years. From work. I don’t plan to be home until early evening. Do you need me, honey?”
“No,” he said. “No, of course not. I just wanted to help out.”
“That’s so thoughtful,” Anna said. “Don’t you have a practice or game or something?”
“No, we had a game last night. We won.”
“Congratulations! I’m sorry I missed it! I’ll make it a point to see the next one. Why don’t you take a day off. That’s what I’m doing. The last few weeks have been so intense.”
“Good idea,” he said. “But if you need anything done, you’ll let me know?”
“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll talk to you later. Maybe tomorrow?”
“Perfect,” he said.
But Michael’s life was anything but perfect. He was miserable. If it wasn’t bad enough he was grieving the loss of his dad, he had broken off with Jenn and she had disappeared. Michael tried to remember what he thought the result of breaking up would be and it was nothing like what had actually happened. He thought he had been doing the difficult but noble thing by breaking up, setting them both on a path of starting over, but that wasn’t what happened. Jenn was angry and out of patience, which he now realized was just what he deserved. He’d been an idiot, letting a woman he cared so deeply about get away.
He parked his SUV in front of his mother’s house, thinking about what to do next. After a long mental study of his emotions, he got out of the car and opened up the garage. It looked pretty good, since he’d done a serious cleaning and trash hauling just a couple of weeks ago. He let himself into the house; everything was tidy and in order—no dishes in the sink, the bed made, his mother’s briefcase and laptop and some files on the breakfast bar, a sight he’d grown accustomed to.
He peeked in his dad’s office. It was stripped. The desk dominated the room, there were still books on the shelves, but it was apparent it was no longer in use. He pulled out a couple of built-in file drawers and saw that they had been cleaned out except for those that belonged to Anna—her retirement, her insurance, her bank statements. Everything for Chad McNichol or Chad and Anna seemed to be gone. For the first time he asked himself why his mother’s work files and laptop were still in the kitchen when there was a beautiful office available.
His first thought was, My mom has it all under control. His next thought was, She sure adjusted quickly to Dad being dead.
He sat on the couch and called Jenn. His call went to voice mail. Again. “Hey, Jenn, are we ever going to actually talk? Because I don’t like the way we left things. I’d like to talk about a few things. I think I’m even more messed up than before and maybe this is all a big mistake. I think I have a few things to explain. I don’t think we’re done with this yet. Maybe I was premature and there are things to work out, but if you won’t even take my calls how can we ever work anything out? So, how about you call me back this time? Or maybe text me or something? Or maybe you were just ready to break up and this is this easy way?”