Page 132 of Someone to Watch Over Me

Meanwhile,back at Iris’s house…

Angela

“That was intense,” I say to Luke after the ambulance leaves with Tom, with Lexi and Joy following them out of the yard.

“Seriously.” Luke rubs the back of his neck the way people do after a stressful situation. Watching him fly into doctor mode when Tom keeled over was kind of hot. “When Gage said Tom had a heart attack and stent procedure two weeks ago… I feared it wouldn’t end well. When he came to and said he was fine, that was a huge relief.”

“Poor Lexi. She was frantic.”

“This is why I’m never falling in love again. I refuse to take a risk that could lead to the worst kind of heartbreak again. I couldn’t bear it.”

“I tend to agree,” I say. “I’d rather be alone than worry about losing my partner.”

“The only thing worse would be something happening to one of my kids.”

“Agreed. That’d be unbearable, especially as a single parent totally responsible for their health and safety. I’d feel like it was my fault even if it wasn’t.”

“Yes, exactly!”

“Jack got hit in the face with a baseball when he was playing catch with a friend in the yard, and all I could think of was if he died, it would be my fault for not keeping him safe.”

“Clarissa fell off her bike and broke her arm two months after Bella died, and I felt the same way. Like, what if she’d died? What would I ever do?”

“We should probably recognize that our disaster mentality is a direct result of losing our partners,” I say, “and the worst-case-scenario thinking will ease up in time.”

“Will it, though? Will we ever stop feeling extra responsible for seeing these kids safely through childhood without our teammates?”

“Maybe not entirely, but I have to believe it won’t always be this acute.”

“I hope not, because acute anxiety is exhausting.”

“We should get together with the kids some time,” I suggest. “It’s good for them to make new friends who understand what they’re going through.”

“That’d be great. We’d love it.”

We exchange phone numbers and agree to set something up in the next few weeks.

Iris and Gage come out of the house with bottles of water and a plate of dessert for each of us.

“So that wasnotour usual Wild Widows gathering,” Iris says.

“That was our first ambulance,” Gage adds.

“Hope we didn’t scare you guys off of our group,” Iris says tentatively.

“Nah,” Luke says. “I can’t speak for Angela, but I enjoyed it much more than I thought I would, and I’m looking forward to being part of the group—minus the ambulance, of course.”

“Same,” I say. “No ambulances would be good. I’d like to bring my friend Brad to a meeting sometime. He lost his wife in the same fentanyl nightmare that took my Spencer.”

“Please feel free to bring him,” Iris says. “Anyone who needs us is welcome.”

“Brad has had a rough transition to single parenthood. I think he’d benefit from being with others in the same boat. I’ll see if I can get him to come.” I check my watch and am astounded to see it’s almost nine. “I need to get my kids home to bed, or they’ll be up all night.”

“Me, too.” Luke stands and offers me a hand up.

I take it without thinking, as if it’s something I do every day when it’s something I haven’t done in almost two years. “Thanks.” Why do I feel shy all of a sudden? What the hell?

We go inside to collect overtired kids and walk out together, two single parents, six kids and another one at home for me. We’re like the ragged survivors of a natural disaster, a dramatic thought that nearly makes me laugh, except there’s nothing funny about surviving a disaster—natural or otherwise.

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