“What about work?”
Another halfhearted lift of his shoulders. “It’s good. I put in a lot of hours.”
“Are you saving your money?” Jared had been a stickler when it came to teaching his sons the benefits of saving a certain amount of every dime they earned. He made sure they understood the value of a dollar. While Joan and her husband could afford to buy each of their sons a car, Jared had insisted Steve and Nick contribute at least half of the total cost.
“You don’t need to worry about me, Mom.”
“I’m not worried,” she rushed to tell him. “It’s just that I’d like to know how you’re doing, what’s important to you and how I can be there for you.”
“Thanks, Mom, that means a lot. For a long time, it wasn’t easy to talk to you, you know?”
Guilt weighed her down, and then anger. This was Jared’s fault. He was the one who’d left them. He was the one who had delayed his physical, too concerned about taking time off, claiming it was too hard to clear his schedule, even when Joan had assured him she could free up his time and that it was important. The doctor couldn’t have predicted an aneurysm, but Jared was at fault, too, for not taking his health seriously.
“I’m sorry, Steve.”
“Mom—”
“No, let me finish. I love you, son, more than words can adequately express. It’s time I went back to being the mother you remember, an even better version of myself. To be the mother you can trust with your doubts, your pain, and your secrets. The one who was there to give you advice when you asked. The one person you could always count on to be in your corner.”
“We’re each to blame,” he countered. “I should have been more available to you. Nick, too. We just didn’t know how best to help you. As it’s turned out, you seem to have found your own way. That’s all Nick and I ever wanted for you.”
“Thank you,” Joan said, grateful they’d had this conversation. She’d avoided anything unpleasant or possibly unpleasant for so long, it felt good to speak freely. For her, and it seemed for Steve, too.
For a long time, her son didn’t say anything. Then he nodded, and when he spoke his voice was full of emotion. “Could we start with a hug?”
“I think that’s an excellent idea.”
They stood and embraced. Joan felt this was a real turning point in her relationship with her children. It was different without Jared, now that he was gone, and it seemed the three of them were only now learning to adjust.
Chapter 19
Sunday morning of Memorial Day weekend, Maggie invited Joan to attend church with her. Joan hesitated and appeared to consider the invitation before declining. Her landlord looked like she needed a bit of cheering up, and Maggie was disappointed that Joan had turned down the invite. While the weekend was dedicated to remembering those who had died in service to their country, it was a time to honor all of those who had passed, military or not. It made sense that Joan was thinking about her husband. She’d mentioned that her older son had stopped by for a visit. Joan seemed introspective afterward, which left Maggie wondering what had transpired during his visit.
Maggie didn’t visit her mother’s grave often, only a couple times a year. As far as she knew, her father had never been there, not even once, since the funeral. The gravesite was a symbol of all that he’d lost, and he’d avoided facing the emptiness of his life since Elaine’s passing. Since her mother’s death, Maggie rarely celebrated holidays. Her father resented any effort she made, especially when it came to Thanksgiving or Christmas, which was understandable. Her mother had always gone overboard, cooking and baking. She’d made every effort to brighten their lives over the holidays.
“I’ll attend with you another time,” Joan said, as if sensing Maggie’s disappointment.
By the time Maggie returned from the church service, it’d started to rain. Feeling carefree after a week of finals, she decided to splurge and take in a movie. Something she hadn’t done in months. Unfortunately, all her friends from Starbucks and school already had plans for the holiday weekend.
While Maggie was keen to see the latest Tom Cruise movie, she didn’t want to go alone, so she asked Joan to join her.
“No thanks,” Joan said out of hand.
So much for that idea. The rain started to come down in earnest, the day a dark gray. It seemed every Memorial Day weekend it rained in Seattle, as if the heavens wept for those who had passed. Her second-best choice was a novel she’d been longing to read. Reading fiction was a rare treat. Any spare time allotted in her busy schedule was devoted to her studies.
Book in hand, she plopped herself down in a comfy chair in the family room. Edison was asleep, cuddled up at Maggie’s side, and the gas fireplace was lit, with shadows dancing against the opposite wall.
Although Joan had made strides, Maggie could see something heavy was on her mind. Maggie had debated whether she should ask or pretend she didn’t notice. Only she did, and it concerned her. She couldn’t help wondering if this change in mood had to do with Joan attending the grief therapy group. Maggie knew Joan had connected with another widow in the group, as the two had gone to lunch. It’d only been since her son’s visit that she’d grown quiet and introspective.
Dr. O’Brien had given Joan a workbook, and Maggie had seen her poring over the questions, writing down her thoughts. At one point, Joan had gotten upset over something she’d read and slammed the pencil down, causing Maggie to jerk with surprise. Joan had immediately apologized, although she didn’t offer an explanation.
“Weren’t you heading to the movies?” Joan asked, looking up from the puzzle. She’d set it up on a card table and had been diligently working on the border and hadn’t seemed to notice Maggie was in the same room.
Maggie’s hand gently petted Edison as she explained. “Everyone is busy, and I didn’t want to go alone.”
“I bet Nick would jump at the chance to go with you.”
“Maybe,” Maggie agreed, although she doubted Joan’s son would be interested. True, they’d made peace with each other, but their friendship was new, and she didn’t want to make assumptions.
“You won’t know unless you ask,” Joan encouraged.
“I don’t have his contact information.” This was true, and a way of telling Joan, who obviously would have his number, that she was reluctant to reach out to Nick with an invitation. He might get the wrong idea. Joan’s son might believe she was interested in a relationship, and she wasn’t. Well, maybe she was, but if that relationship didn’t work out it might impact the one between her and Joan.
“I’ll invite him to dinner,” Joan suggested, “and you can ask him then.”
“Please don’t on my behalf,” Maggie said. She feared putting Nick on the spot like that would do more harm than good. “You can invite him to dinner, of course, but please don’t mention the movie.”
“Why not? I thought you two had resolved your differences.”
“We have,” she said, and went back to reading her book, not wanting to belabor the subject.