Page 100 of We Were Something
Out of our entire group of friends, the four of them were the ones we got together with the most often. Greg and Warren are the two guys I spent most of my own personal time with, the three of us regularly heading out on my boat to fish in the sound or jog the park at the botanical garden.
We’ve spoken a few times since the divorce, the conversations somewhat uncomfortable and strained since they’d likely already transitioned to doing dinner nights with Jen andRodneyinstead of with Jen andme.
Losing my friendship with the two of them was the most difficult part of the aftermath, though it ultimately wouldn’t have made much difference since I ended up moving to California anyway.
“How’s your mom doing?” Greg asks.
I bob my head, though the movement feels unnatural. “She’s doing alright,” I tell him. “She isn’t strong enough to breathe on her own yet, but the doctors keep telling me to be patient.”
Greg pats my shoulder. “If there’s anything to be taken away from all this, it’s gotta be gratitude that she’s still here, right?”
It’s the one thing I’ve been struggling with the most over the past few days, though I try not to let on as I give Greg another tight smile. The details of the crash have weighed heavy on my shoulders as my mind has gotten clearer.
Mom was in the car with Rodney.
I can hear the details of the accident a million times, and there’s still a part of me that places the blame squarely in his lap.
Hewas the one behind the wheel.
Hewas the one who veered off the road.
But I can’t dwell on it too much or I’ll drive myself insane. Because in the darkness of the night, when I allow myself to blame him, a tiny voice whispers that he’s lucky to already be gone, or I would have put him in the ground myself.
It’s a violent train of thought I can only imagine comes from the pain of grief, and I can’t entertain it for long without hating myself for it.
Especially knowing he was the father of Jen’s baby, and his death means Jen is going to be raising a child alone.
“I’ll try to swing by the hospital tomorrow, keep you company,” Warren says. “Maybe we can get a TV set up in her room and play some of that hockey she hates so much. The Canucks are playing an exhibition game. ”
I chuckle, thinking back to all the times mom would tell us we were savages for watching such a violent sport.
“Nah, I appreciate it, but I have Paige with me and she’s been helping to keep me sane.”
Warren’s brows pinch. “Who’s Paige?”
“I’m Paige.”
I turn at the sound of her voice, smiling as she steps up on my other side, opposite Jen, and slips her hand into mine.
“There you are. I’d like to introduce you to my friends,” I say, going around the group and introducing them one by one. “Warren and his wife, Ebony, and Greg and his wife, Malory.”
They all greet her, but I can see some question in their eyes. A bit of confusion.
“Everyone, this is my girlfriend Paige.”
I can see the glances they shoot at each other as they take in this information, but thankfully, Warren takes a bit of the sting out of the group’s silence.
“Well, Paige, I can officially saythank youfor keeping Logan busy at the hospital. I can’t imagine sitting there for days on end, let alone the stress of it all.”
Paige smiles. “I’m glad I can be here. I feel pretty useless most of the time, but I seem to have convinced him I havesomethingto contribute.” She leans a bit closer to me. “I’m just hoping Nancy wakes up soon.”
Everyone just kind of stands there with tight smiles, so I take that as a cue to take a seat.
“We’re going to go sit. I’m sure I’ll see you guys after,” I say, giving them a little wave and turning to head into the sanctuary, Paige’s hand in mine.
“Where are you going?” Jen says, following after us.
I pause, turning back to look at her. “To sit down.”
