I rounded the corner and the house came back into view. We lived in a cul-de-sac on the edge of town. The homes were all relatively new and custom built. The trees had some time to grow but they didn’t tower over the houses like in the rest of town.
Still, I loved our little neighborhood.
The families were all sweet and lovely and we took care of each other.
I couldn’t bring myself to move or to take my kids from their home. Even though there were times that I wanted to.
Like right now.
Looking up at white siding spotted with black shudders and boasting a bright red door, I saw my dream home. And I saw a lifetime of pain I would never recover from.
Grady, where are you?
I slowed my demanding pace to a measured walk. I told myself this was a cool down, but the truth whispered and echoed inside me. I could push my body to my limits when I ran, when I ran away from everything and everyone that needed me. But now that I was confronted with those same things, I couldn’t bring myself to face them again.
As a mother, I had always felt this severe degree of failure. I had four kids.Four of them. Life was always crazy for us and I never felt like I was enough for all of my kids. Chaos ruled my parenting style, and because they were all two years apart, they were always in different stages of needs and demands.
Now, without Grady by my side, I had never felt like more of a failure at anything. This wasn’t just a small failure either; this was the crash and burn kind of catastrophe that combusted into a million unrecognizable pieces.
That was what I was doing to my children. I was the pilot of their plane of life and I was about to dive-bomb us into the middle of the ocean.
“You all right?” A voice called me out of my silent pity party.
I looked up to find Ben Tyler at his mailbox. I didn’t know how to feel about meeting him again, especially while I looked like this. Most of me still fizzled with anger about our altercation this morning. But there was this small part of me that felt extremely embarrassed that the only times he’d seen me were when I’d been in my underwear and braless tank top and now like this, sweaty, red-faced and panting.
This guy had to think I was a complete nutcase.
I tried to smile, but my worries, exhaustion and general bad attitude made it more of a grimace than a happy expression. “I’m fine. I just finished a run.”
“I can see that.” His smirk was annoying.
“Don’t you have a job?” The words fell out of my mouth before I could censor them.Oh, god, what was wrong with me?
He chuckled at my rude question. He should probably snap at me and swear to himself never to talk to me again, but something told me this guy didn’t have it in him to hate people.
Not even his bitchy neighbor.
“I do,” he said. “I took a couple days off to get moved into the new place.”
“Oh.” Well, obviously. I was an idiot.
“Don’tyouhave a job?”
I couldn’t tell if this was sarcasm or if he was genuinely curious. When he raised his eyebrows expectantly, I gave him an answer. “I’m a stay-at-home mom.”
“Abby?”
“And her three siblings.”
“Wow,” he whistled. “Four of them? You don’t look like you have four kids.”
Um… “Thanks.”
“I heard about your husband,” he blurted suddenly.
“What?” My voice was a whisper. I felt my bones become brittle and breakable as he grimaced with his knowledge of my grief.
“I’m so sorry,” he gushed. “I don’t know why I said it like that. I just… I didn’t know how to bring it up. And I didn’t want you to feel like you had to explain it to me.”
