felt her heart jump uncomfortably. “He is?”
“Yup. Lost his wife to ovarian cancer a bit over five years ago. I knew her, too. Small town. Anyway, he’s become a good friend of mine, and I’d hate for you to feel uncomfortable with him.”
Vicki nodded and realized that she had indeed felt a resistance toward him. Not because of him; he hadn’t done one thing to make her feel that way. But because she feared...what, exactly? He might be a cop, but he wasn’t a reminder. She shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, Lena.”
“No need. You and I have been talking frequently since Hal died. I think I have some understanding of the problems you’ve been dealing with. It might give you some comfort to know Dan’s been through a lot of it, too. Anyway, he’s a good friend. He could be your friend, as well, but he doesn’t have to be. I just want you to know that he is my friend.”
Now Vicki felt just awful. She must have done something to cause her aunt to speak this way. “I don’t want to make him feel unwelcome.”
“I’m sure you don’t. And you’ve been dealing with a lot. I only brought it up because...well, he was supposed to come here for dinner tonight. I expected him to return with you. Did something happen?”
“Not a thing. He was very helpful, and he told me about the park where I could take Krys.”
“Well, then, I’m going to call that young man and find out what’s going on.”
If she hadn’t felt so bad, Vicki might have laughed. Dan was young enough, but Vicki wasn’t so old that she should be thinking of him as “that young man.”
Lena went to the wall phone and called Dan. “I hear you’re skipping out on dinner. You never pass on my fried chicken.”
Vicki gestured that she was going to the bathroom, then slipped out. It seemed she couldn’t escape Dan, but then she wondered why she should even want to. He’d been pleasant and helpful, and he had no ties with her past, other than Lena. What was going on inside her?
She wondered if she would ever get herself sorted out.
“Mommy?”
She looked up and saw Krystal at the head of the stairs. “Yes, sweetie?”
“I finished. Come see.”
Vicki climbed the stairs to join her daughter in her new playroom. “I heard you singing when I came home. It sounded like you were having fun.”
“Aunt Lena said I could do it myself. I’m a big girl now.”
That was the second time in two days. When she reached the top of the stairs, Vicki stroked her daughter’s blond head and wondered if she had somehow put pressure on the child, making her feel she needed to grow up faster. Even with all her experience with children, Vicki didn’t know. They all seemed to want to grow up fast. But sometimes they had reasons that were darker than their years should justify.
The organization in the room existed only in her daughter’s eyes, but Vicki praised it sincerely. This was one place Krystal could express herself and control her environment, and not for the world would Vicki take that away from her.
Then she saw a photograph on the shelf and felt gut-punched. It was a family photo of her, Hal and Krys, taken on Krys’s third birthday. Balloons decorated the background, and all three of them were beaming.
Vicki hesitated, then said, “I thought you liked that picture by your bed.”
Krys shook her head. “I can’t see him when I sleep.”
“Oh. I didn’t think of that.” The giant fist, so familiar over the past year, once again reached out and grabbed Vicki’s heart, squeezing it until she almost couldn’t breathe. Her knees weakened and she sat on the edge of the bed, which had almost disappeared beneath stuffed animals.
Krystal climbed up beside her. “See?”
Indeed, she could see. Krystal had found the place in the room where Hal’s photo could see her everywhere. His dark, smiling eyes seemed to be looking at them right now.
“Daddy likes it here,” she announced. “Tell me about my party again?”
Despite feeling as if her chest were being crushed, Vicki told the familiar story of Krystal’s third birthday party. It had become a ritual, and if she skipped even one word, Krys reminded her.
Hugging her daughter, she forced life into her voice, when she felt as if she had no life left.
* * *
Dinner with Dan had been a pleasant time. They ate at the big dining room table again with the overhead chandelier adding some cheer. He and Lena spoke about doings around the county, and Dan included Krystal as often as possible, asking her about her new playroom, but in no way pushing any boundaries.
By the time Vicki took her daughter upstairs for a bath and bed, she felt more comfortable with the whole idea of Dan being around frequently. Unlike some of Hal’s friends, he wasn’t trying to play the father role for the girl. He just treated her as if she were another friend at the table.
Later, when she went back downstairs, he was still here, chatting with Lena in the living room. Vicki wished she could enjoy the kind of comfortable friendship they seemed to, and knew she was the only one holding back.
It was always possible she might not like him as much as Lena did, but she’d never know unless she joined the two of them.
Lena had made it clear that they were friends, and that wasn’t going to change. Vicki still wasn’t sure what she had done that had made Dan originally decide not to come for dinner, but she resolved to be friendlier.
If she could figure out how. She seemed to have become somewhat socially inept after the past year. But of course, she’d stopped meeting new people and had become enclosed by the blue wall of Hank’s friends. If she sat for hours without speaking, they didn’t worry about it. They just included her, then let her be.
Despite the passage of time, she’d seemed to want to be left alone more rather than less. It was part of what had driven her to accept Lena’s invitation—the feeling that Hal’s friends, despite their best intentions, were holding her in some kind of stasis. That with them she would always be Hal’s widow.
Well, if she was to have any life at all other than being his widow and Krystal’s mom, now was the time to start. And friendship was a good place to begin.
She went to the kitchen to pour herself coffee before joining them. Once again, she found Dan and her aunt on Lena’s old couch. Vicki wondered if her recliner sofa was radioactive or something.
“Hey there,” Lena said. “Is the tyke out for the night?”
“Totally. She worked hard on her playroom today.” Vicki smiled. “And she loves it. Thanks, Lena. I can’t quite tell how she organized it, but everything is where she wants it.”
“I could get rid of that bed.”
Vicki sat on the edge of the sofa. “I don’t think you need to. It seems to have become the home for a bazillion stuffed animals.”
