Page 17 of Pity Parade

I don’t normally let myself daydream about what might have been, but this is a family kind of vacation after all. Had I booked myself a singles’ cruise instead, I’m pretty sure my mood wouldn’t be bordering on morose.

My wife and I have now been apart for more years than we were together—seven years as a couple versus ten years without her. I let myself contemplate what this means. Have I somehow become my own person again? I know this probably isn’t the case, but it bears pondering.

With any luck, I’ll live another fifty years. What will Jess be to me then? Just the vague memory of an old man, or still the love of my life whose age never moved beyond that of a young woman.

My mother assures me Jess would have wanted me to move on, but I can’t imagine that’s so. Even though I know she loved me, I can’t fathom she would give me her blessing to live our life with someone else.

I slam back the rest of my coffee and stand up. I’m only on day one of my vacation and I’m full of more emotional turmoil than I ever am back at home in my daily grind. How am I going to make it a whole summer here with thoughts like this to keep me company?

Going back into the cottage, I change out of my pajama pants and replace them with a pair of running shorts. A sprint down the beach should not only help burn off last night’s supper, but it might help eradicate my current angst.

I stretch my hamstrings on the railing of the dock before walking halfway down. Then I crawl under the bar and jump down to the beach below. My first few steps feel unsteady as I adjust to sand beneath my feet. But before long, I find my rhythm and start moving as fast as I do when traversing the concrete jungle of Chicago.

I go a couple miles when I see someone running toward me. It’s Jamie from last night. We both slow down as the distance between us dwindles. “Hey, man,” he says. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good,” I answer while still jogging in place like I’m a serious runner. “I was hoping to sleep in a bit longer, but my inner clock isn’t having any of that yet.”

“I lived here for a full month before I could make it past six.”

I stop moving and ask, “Have you and Missy lived here for long?”

“Sammy and I have been here for a year,” he says. “Missy has lived in Elk Lake her whole life.”

“Oh, I thought she was Sammy’s mom.” Even though Missy seems awfully young to be the mother of a teenager, she and Sammy both have the same shade of red hair which isn’t all that common.

Jamie shakes his head. “No. Sammy and I lived in Chicago on our own.”

For some reason I feel the need to tell him, “My wife died ten years ago.” I don’t mention my son because I don’t want to be seen as quite that tragic a figure.

“I’m sorry,” he says before clarifying, “My wife left me when Sammy was a baby.”

What kind of woman leaves her own child? But instead of asking that, I go with, “What brought you guys out here from the city?”

Jamie looks across the lake and ponders his answer before saying, “I felt like I needed to decide what kind of memories I wanted my daughter to take into adulthood with her.”

I’m not quite sure what he means by that, so I guess. “You wanted her to grow up slower?”

“That’s a part of it for sure,” he says. “But I’ve only got her home with me for five more years before she leaves for college. I want to make sure those years are more about us than the hustle and bustle of city life.”

“Not that it’s my business,” I ask, “but are you and Missy planning on having a family?”

He smiles happily. “We are. We’re going to get married first.” He adds, “Missy owns the bridal shop in town, so she’s had a good long time to plan our big day.”

“Have you set a date?” I ask. I’m thinking less about his impending nuptials than his innate courage to give love another shot.

“We’re having a small ceremony at the end of the summer,” he says. “I wanted Missy to have the wedding of her dreams, but she assures me that after years of hearing all the second-hand wedding dramas from work, she wants something simple and carefree.”

“Congratulations,” I tell him. “Sammy seems to really love Missy. So much so I thought they were already mother and daughter.”

“Sammy would have loved it if I’d gotten married years ago,” he says. “She really wants to be a big sister.”

My eyebrows raise in question which causes him to add, “I was worried about messing up her life. My daughter always comes first, and I never wanted her to feel like she was being overshadowed by anyone else.”

“Life isn’t easy, is it?”

“No, it’s not. I think the hardest part is thinking you have some control and then realizing it’s all an illusion.” He gives me a pointed look.

“I really enjoyed getting to meet you all last night,” I tell him. “Maybe we can do it again sometime.”

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