Page 38 of Missing

She raised an eyebrow in disbelief, but didn’t call me out on it. Instead she suggested, “You could always ask Doug.”

Meg giggled at the hint of mischief in Mary’s voice.

God, I love these women. Each of them was strong in their own way, and I was blessed to have them in my life. It was strange how, at this stage of life, the three-decade difference in our ages didn’t matter. Mary was in her mid-fifties, Meg and Emily were in their mid-twenties, and I was in the middle.

We sipped our coffees and teas, chatting about random things for a few more minutes before Meg burst out, “I can’t take it anymore, you have to tell us about your date with Doug!”

Mary already knew about it, so she didn’t join in when Meg and Emily squealed as I told them about our evening. They wanted details about the goodbye kiss, but I wasn’t willing to share that detail, so I said, “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

To my surprise, they let it go.

I asked the group, “Did you know he’s only thirty-two?”

Emily shook her head, as Meg said, “Really? I knew he was older than Jamie, but not by how much. I kinda assumed he was older than that.”

“Is that an issue?” Mary asked.

“I don’t think so, but I’m too old to have any more kids. What if he decides he wants his own?” I hadn’t meant to voice my fear out loud, but it was too late to take it back. I trusted them, but things had a way of spreading in our group and I didn’t want it getting back to Doug and causing issues. The last thing he needed was to hear my fears from someone else.

The girls offered generic platitudes, saying if it was meant to be, it wouldn’t matter. Mary nodded thoughtfully but didn’t say anything.

“It’s really not a big deal, forget I said anything.”

“Our lips are sealed.” Meg slid her fingers across her lips like she was closing a zipper.

“Thanks.” I looked at my watch. “Time to pick up Chase.”

As we hugged and said our goodbyes Meg said, “Save us a seat at the game tonight.”

Chase would be thrilled to see Meg and Jack in the stands for his game tonight.

Later that night, after putting a tired but happy Chase to bed, I punched in the code to the gun safe in the garage. Grateful Phil had chosen our wedding date, backwards, for the code otherwise I might not have remembered it after so many years.

Talking to the girls today had lit a spark in my belly, and I’d fanned it into a full flame by the time I’d put Chase to bed.

As a single mom, I was not only responsible for my safety but Chase’s too. Something I’d forgotten in my grief.

I’m sorry Phil, I won’t forget again.

I pulled out the plastic case that held my S&W M&P, then closed and locked the safe before walking over to Phil’sworkbench. I appreciated how he had always cleaned his guns out here so he wouldn’t make a smelly, greasy mess in the house.

Tears filled my eyes as I stared at the layer of dust coating everything while clutching the hard case to my chest.

Why’d you leave me Phil?

Knowing it hadn’t been his fault, or his choice, didn’t lessen the pain. Most days I was okay, having gone through the five stages of grief many moons ago, but some days grief would well back up and take hold of my heart.

Like today.

I wiped the tears off my cheeks.I’ve put this off for far too long. I shouldn’t have let my license to carry a handgun expire. Phil would be disappointed.

Not disappointed, pissed. He’d always told me that being married to a cop didn’t mean I didn’t have to worry about protecting myself. He’d often remind me, “I can’t be with you twenty-four-seven, so you need to be able to defend yourself.”

Now he’s gone and can’t protect me at all.Us, he can’t protect us.

Not bothering to dust, I placed the case on the bench and opened it, making sure the muzzle was pointed towards the brick wall. Just like Phil had taught me.

Then I carefully picked up the gun, keeping my finger off the trigger, and made sure the gun was empty. Just like Phil had taught me.

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