Page 6 of Taking The Shot

“Do you have any children, Keith?”

“Uh, no,” he said flatly, not missing a beat.

“Why not?”

“Not married,” he answered and shrugged.

“I see,” she replied and went back to filling bags before pausing again. “Is there a reason?”

“Of course,” he said simply – and then paused to look at her. “It’s not something I want to talk about, but I have my reasons. I’m not married, and I have no kids. No pets, no family, a couple of bad habits, and have obviously lost my marbles but that’s about it. You?”

“I have kids,” she chuckled, smiling at him, and unfurled another bag, glancing sideways at him warily. “I was married, but my husband passed away suddenly two years ago due to pancreatic cancer and…”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted gently.

“Me too,” she nodded. “He was a really great person.”

“All the best ones are gone too soon – aren’t they?”

“I agree,” she replied and cleared her throat once more. “No pets, no family except these two, definitely a few bad habits,” she smiled at his soft laugh. “And most definitely have lost my marbles.”

“Ahhh, I see.”

“Yup. Me in a nutshell.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you… nutshell.”

Constance had been surprised—pleasantly, albeit cautiously—when Keith hadn’t pressed her for conversation or pushed the idea of asking her out. He had every opportunity to, and yet, he hadn’t. Maybe the sight of her with two small children was enough of a deterrent. Plenty of men balked at the idea of dating a widow with kids, especially one as outspoken as Paige and asrestless as Kayla. Paige, with her endless stream of chatter and blunt observations, often left people struggling to keep up. And Kayla, growing impatient with the slow-moving food line, had taken to sitting on Constance’s sneaker, trying in vain to stack cans beneath the rickety table.

It wasn’t easy raising two children alone. It wasn’t easy to exist in this endless cycle of exhaustion and survival.

Maybe Keith had sensed it. Maybe he had taken one look at her—a young widow, stretched thin, dressed in worn jeans and a sweatshirt that had seen better days—and decided that whatever fleeting curiosity he might have had wasn’t worth the effort. He wouldn’t be the first.

Not that she blamed him.

She had never expected to end up here, parceling out and collecting her own bag of donated food, struggling to make ends meet, drowning in responsibilities she had never anticipated shouldering alone. She and Robert had done everything right. They had followed the steps. Met in college, become friends, and fallen in love. They had both gone into teaching, both passionate about shaping young minds. They had married young, full of dreams about the future, about the family they would build together.

And they had… for a while.

When Paige was born, everything had changed in ways she hadn’t expected. The sleepless nights, the crying, the sheer exhaustion of being a new mother. She had struggled to adjust, to find her footing, and by the time she did, years had passed before she and Robert felt ready to have another child. Then Kayla arrived, and any sense of ‘normal’ vanished altogether.

Not that normal had lasted long, anyway.

First, it had been the little things. The indigestion Robert brushed off, the weight loss he insisted was nothing. Then came the fatigue, the growing paleness of his skin, the way he nolonger had the energy to chase Paige around the living room after work. By the time they knew what they were dealing with, there had been no time to prepare. No time to plan. Just a rapid, terrifying descent into the inevitable.

Cancer stole him from her so fast that she barely had time to breathe before she was standing at his funeral, clutching a six-year-old with one arm while her one-year-old daughter screamed in the other. Twenty-seven, widowed, with two small children, no life insurance, no will, and no clue how to navigate the wreckage of the life they had built together.

They had been waiting to buy a house, waiting for the right time, waiting until they felt secure. And now, there was nothing. No house. Just two car loans—one of which she had to let go because there was no way she could afford it on her own. Their savings, meant for the future, had disappeared into medical bills. She had buried her husband in a casket she was still paying for, had signed papers, and made decisions she never should have had to make alone.

And now, here she was.

Working constantly just to keep the lights on. Stretching every paycheck, every food donation, every moment of sanity she had left. Taking home a bag of cans to get them through another week.

Keith probably saw all of that in an instant. Most people did. They either looked at her with pity or with relief—thankful that it wasn’t them standing in her shoes. And if he wanted to walk away without getting too close, she wouldn’t blame him for that, either.

She didn’t have anything to offer.

Not anymore.

---