Page 70 of I'll Be Waiting

That’s one thing about losing a spouse. If they were hiding anything, it’s going to come to light, no matter how independently you lived. Local hotel charges on their personal credit card? Abusive porn on their computer? Creditors suddenly banging on the door? Babymamas showing up with DNA tests? With Anton, there’d been none of that.

He’d been even more organized than me, and I’d found passwords and authorizations to everything tucked in with his will. The most scandalous thing I discovered? An ex sending him nudes until he blocked her. The biggest secret I uncovered? He’d secretly paid college tuition for the two kids Cody had abandoned after leaving his wife for the babysitter, which might be the most on-brand thing Cody ever did.

Anton wasn’t a saint. I found a letter from a college girlfriend he’d dumped and hurt. And I found emails from his mother, wanting more contact. He made mistakes. He owned them. He’d kept that letter rather than throw it into the trash. He’d always meant to call his mother more and felt bad when he realized how long it’d been.

Anton was human. But he wasn’t controlling, and he wasn’t a con artist.

Whatever I’m interpreting from those ghostly messages, that’s on me. When he lay dying on that roadside, saying he’d be waiting, I did not for one second hear anything but love in it.

I went upstairs with the excuse that I was tired, and it wasn’t purely an excuse. Once I force myself to focus on good memories, I drift off. And I drift off into memory.

I’d been thinking of the past, of Anton’s confession, and that is where my sleeping mind goes.

To his confession.

It’s three years ago. I’m in a funky little indie coffee shop, where I’ve taken a table under a display of local artists’ work, all of it with yellowing price tags that make me want to buy something. Anton sits across from me. This is our third post-reunion meetup, and I’mgiddy with the promise of it. But today Anton isn’t his usual cheerful self. He’s been quiet and restrained.

Anton leans over the table. “I want to ask you out.”

I look around. “You already did.”

“No, I mean ask you out on a date.”

Is he nervous? He doesn’t seem nervous. He seems as if he’s already resigned himself to rejection, which makes no sense, because he couldn’t have missed the way I waltzed in here, wearing a skirt and heels for a coffee date, my face lighting up when I saw him.

“Go ahead,” I say. “I like your odds.”

I’m smiling, but his expression doesn’t change. He’s somber, even dour.

Anton reaches for my hand. “Before I do that, I need to confess something. It’s going to change those odds, Nic. And not for the better.”

My heart stops. I knew this was too good to be true.He’stoo good to be true.

He’s going to tell me that he’s moving back out west. Or, worse, that he’s married, with some excuse like separation or an open marriage, and no matter how he explains that away, it will be a deal-breaker, as would having him move back across the country. I don’t do long-distance relationships, and I sure as hell don’t do extramarital affairs.

“We were at your séance,” he blurts.

I think I’ve heard wrong. I must have. These words make no sense. “What?”

“Your séance, with Patrice and Heather. We were there. Me and Cody and Mike.” The words come in a rush. “Cody and Mike overheard you guys planning it, and they wanted to stage a haunting for you. I argued but…”

He inhales sharply. “They were going to do it anyway, and I went along to keep them in line.”

“You… were there?”

He nods mournfully, his gaze not meeting mine.

I work it through, remembering and putting the pieces together.

“You heard the story about Samantha and Roddy,” I say. “You pretended to be Roddy stalking Sam—”

“Not me. Cody and Mike.” He rubs his mouth. “Which is an excuse. I was there, and I didn’t stop them.”

“Okay.” I continue processing his words. I remember we’d heard whispers and footsteps coming from two directions. Cody and Mike.

“And then when Patrice walked off?” I say.

“I didn’t realize what was going on at first. We heard you guys calling her, and I thought she freaked out and ran into the forest. I made the guys stop, and I went after her. When I saw her, I whistled, so you’d find her.”

---