“You’ll find out soon enough.”
No doubt she would. Now that all the groceries were put in place, Steve sat down at the kitchen table.
“Coffee?” she asked, remembering how much her older son enjoyed his java.
“Sure.” He relaxed on the kitchen chair. Knowing how involved Steve was in his work, she was pleased he’d taken the time to stop by.
Joan brewed him a cup and then one for herself before taking a chair next to her son. She took a moment to study him. Steve was in his late twenties and handsome. He looked good. He’d always taken pride in his appearance. He was dressed in a suit and tie, which told her the conference he’d mentioned was important and likely one that would advance his career. He was the taller of the two boys, standing at six feet, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist. From the little he’d mentioned about his job, she knew he worked long hours.
“I will say the puppy is cute,” he said, reaching down and setting Edison in his lap. The dog looked up at him suspiciously and then started chewing on Steve’s fingers. “I wasn’t pleased when Nick told me what he’d done. Ouch, his teeth are sharp.” Jerking his hand away, he waved it several times.
Joan laughed. “It’s your fault for giving him your fingers.”
Steve grinned. “I’m glad it’s worked out.”
“Best gift I’ve had in years,” Joan said, and reached over to pet Edison’s head.
Steve set the dog back down on the kitchen floor. “You’re being overly kind. He should have at least asked first.”
“I’m glad he didn’t, because I would have refused. Instead, he didn’t give me much choice. It’s worked out for the best, as Edison quickly wormed his way into my heart.” She picked up the dog and set him in her lap. Content, Edison immediately licked her hand before settling down to nap.
“My goodness, it’s good to see you.” The last time had been the Christmas after they’d buried Jared, and then right after that the country had closed down. Steve had kept in touch, but not nearly as often as Joan would have liked. She accepted that Steve carried a lot of responsibility with his job. He’d always been ambitious. Reading between the lines of things he’d mentioned, her son was looking to be promoted to distribution warehouse manager within the year.
“It’s good to see you, too.” He crossed his legs and sipped his coffee, looking mature beyond his years.
Her sons appeared to be regularly communicating, and while that pleased Joan, she would have enjoyed a few more of those conversations herself.
“How’s the boarder working out for you?”
“Does my having a boarder concern you?” she asked, her voice tightening with the question.
“Concern me?” Steve repeated. “Not at all. In fact, I think it’s a good idea.”
That was a relief. “Maggie’s helped me adjust.” She didn’t feel the need to explain further.
“That’s great, Mom.”
“I’m becoming a regular social butterfly,” she told him.
“A what?” He frowned with the question.
“A butterfly. You know, breaking out of my cocoon. It was something Emmie said recently. Maggie’s been a great support. She even encouraged me to attend a grief therapy group, though I had my doubts.”
“Have you?”
“I did, and am seeing a therapist one-on-one as well. Dr. O’Brien runs the grief therapy group.”
“You’ll continue going, right?”
“I will. The group meets on Wednesdays.” She’d agreed to one session and that was all, but she would be happy to return. Mary Lou had phoned earlier, and they’d met for coffee before Joan went to the store. “The group was different from what I expected; everyone was encouraging and kind. I…didn’t say much,” she added, but didn’t give the reason. “Next time I won’t hesitate, and I’ll join the others for coffee afterward, which I understand is something the group does on a regular basis.”
Edison studied Steve, cocking his head to one side as if to say her son had passed muster.
“No worries, little one, Steve is family.”
The puppy appeared to amuse him. “From the way he reacted when I came into the house, it looks like he’s going to be a good guard dog.”
Time would tell. “I see that Nick’s been updating you on what’s been happening.”
“We talk often. For a long time, our conversations revolved mostly around you.”
“Me?”
“Mom, we were worried, both of us. You never seemed to adjust to losing Dad. I know it was a blow, but, Mom, it’s been four years. You’ve been in this emotional black hole and neither one of us knew how best to help you.”
“I’m moving forward.”
“I can see that. I have to tell you it’s a relief. Nick and I were unsure what to do. We were about to have an intervention.”
She’d heard of these before, of course. Concerned family and friends confronted a loved one with their considerable worries. What bothered Joan was what they might have said and how she would have reacted.
The night of her birthday dinner, Nick had basically said that they’d both been at a loss on how to help her. She remembered how he’d mentioned not being able to talk to her or get her advice when he was considering buying a house. Her grief and inability to move on had deeply affected them. Caught up in her own loss, she hadn’t given enough thought to the fact that her sons needed her now even more than before. They’d lost their father and were hurting, too. Being unable to look past her own pain, Joan had basically ignored her sons.
“It doesn’t matter, because it’s no longer necessary,” Steve said, “and I for one am grateful. Neither of us was eager to confront you; thankfully, the matter took care of itself.”
From Steve’s apologetic look, he seemed to regret having said anything.
“You’ve clearly made some positive changes in the last few weeks,” Steve continued. “It was what Nick and I had hoped would happen for a long time. Living in Arizona, I wish I’d been around more to help you. I should have phoned more often, and I’m sorry I didn’t, mainly because I felt at a loss as to what to say or what I could do to help you.”
“It’s fine, sweetheart. No worries, I understand.” Seeing him so rarely, she didn’t want their conversation to dissolve into regrets from the last four years. Recovering as best she could, she set her gaze on Edison, hoping Steve wouldn’t see the hurt in her eyes. She needed time to analyze how her sadness had affected her sons. That they’d been worried enough to discuss an intervention shook her to the core. Joan hoped she could make up for the years she’d been remote and emotionally unavailable to them. “Update me on what’s going on in your life.”
Steve shrugged. “Nothing much.”
“Are you still seeing Zoe?” she asked, venturing into uncertain territory, hoping Steve would share what had happened to that relationship.
He shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Off and on.”
From earlier conversations it had seemed the two were in a committed relationship. Something had changed. The look he gave her seemed to suggest his girlfriend was a closed subject.