Page 13 of Free to Live
“Ali.” The blonde holds out her hand. “And we think Grace is absolutely adorable.”
“Keene,” I hear Ms. Tiffany sigh.
Ali growls. Keene rolls his eyes. “Calm down, baby. Since our appointment time has already been blown to hell, why don’t we just call the administrator tomorrow to find out exactly how Kalie’s doing in school versus wasting any more of our time.”
“Sounds perfect,” Ali agrees. We all begin to make our way toward the door when we hear sputtering behind us.
“Joe, you didn’t answer me about getting together about dinner!” Ms. Tiffany calls out. Keene’s unmistakable sound of disgust almost makes me laugh. Almost.
Instead, I shake my head. “I thought I made that obvious the first eight or so times you asked. But let me be clear. I’m. Not. Interested.”
Her sound of distress infuriates me. I think I’ll be taking a page out of Kalie’s parents’ book and calling the administrator tomorrow. “But, Joe…” her pathetic whine grates.
“Mr. Bianco,” I correct, my voice like a blast of sodium bicarbonate. “This entire meeting was a farce.”
Ali Freeman applauds next to me.
I shoot her a quick grin which she returns.
“Not that I’m a professional, Mr. Bianco, but every time we see Grace, she’s behaving like a well-adapted three-year-old. Full of spirit, smart as a whip, giggling, likes too many sweets—then again, so does Kalie, but I blame that entirely on my sister Cori. Oh, and she loves to dress up,” Ali tells me. I let out a relieved sigh. I’ve tried so hard not to let the overwhelming grief from the loss of her mother touch those innocent blue eyes. It’s hard most days—next to impossible on others—but to hear affirmation of her good nature from an outsider’s point of view is reassuring that I’ve somehow managed to do it.
We all mutter tart goodbyes to our children’s daycare instructor before we move into the hallway.
“Thank you,” I say sincerely. Holding out my hand to Ali and Keene in turn, I continue. “You have no idea what that means to know I’m not completely screwing up with my daughter. I was hoping for that from her teacher, but you overheard how well that went,” I conclude in disgust.
A smirk crosses Keene’s face. “There’s something you should know, Mr. Bianco.”
I correct him. “Joe. And what is it?”
A dazzling smile erupts across Ali’s. “And we’re Keene and Ali. First is, your daughter is absolutely not touched by the things you’re worried about.” My jaw drops. Ali continues on. “Your mother gave us a heads-up about your situation a long time ago in the event Grace had any problems at our home.”
I nod. “My fiancée will be missed,” I say quietly.
Ali’s smile is sympathetic but restrained. Intuitively, I get this is a woman who understands my need to push past the pain and move on.
I’m finally in a place where the fog has begun to lift about losing the woman I planned on spending the rest of my life with. Every day I wake up trying to believe it’s going to be a better day, but other people still grieving Mary’s loss feel the need to pull me back into the despair I’m trying to remove Grace and me from. I’m stumbling through, trying to find solid ground when every step I take feels like a sinkhole.
I’ll never live a day in this life without thinking of Mary. How could I not? I have a part of her, a part of us, that I will cherish for the rest of my life. But I can’t live the rest of my life for her. Otherwise, they might have well have buried me alongside her when they lowered her casket into the ground three years ago.
“What’s the second?” I say, pulling myself out of my own thoughts.
“Excuse me?”
“You said ‘first.’ I assume there’s more.”
Ali lets out a laugh as she leans into her husband’s arms. “See, if I were at the office, Phil would have heard the first part of that sentence and walked out before listening to anything else I had to say.”
Keene brushes his lips over his wife’s hair. “No comment.”
Nailed it. “So, you are related to Phil and Jason?” I ask quietly. The hallway goes static for just a moment before Ali nods.
“I wasn’t sure if you realized it. I hope that’s not a problem?” she asks worriedly.
“Why would it be an issue?”
“I know your beginning with them wasn’t under the best of circumstances…” Her voice trails off.
And it strikes me then that while I may have offered my apologies to Jason and Phil over my appalling behavior, those may not have been replayed to the rest of their family. “I was an unmitigated ass to Jason. I ran into him and Phil about six months after the accident and apologized profusely for my behavior.” Leaning up against a wall, I reach out and touch a papier-mâché flower. “Do you know what Phil does each month like clockwork? He has flowers delivered to Mary’s grave—Grace’s mother. An enormous bouquet. Every time Grace and I go there, these beautiful blooms are highlighting her mother’s name.”
