“No. That’s okay. Stay.”
“Well, I’ll at least walk you to—”
“Really. I’m good. Finish your coffee.” I didn’t need Logan kissing me goodbye out on the street for anyone who was on the busy corner of Sturgess to see. Mainly because I wouldn’t want to let him go if he did. “I’ll see you Wednesday,” I said.
“I’ll see you before then,” Logan said with what seemed like determination in his voice. I’d already had the swinging door open and just gave an “okay” and wave over my shoulder, then hurriedly made my way to the front door. Thankfully the living room was empty, and I was out on the front porch fighting back the urge to take in gulps of fresh air.
Like I’d just had a close call or something.
Maybe I had, but I wasn’t sure with what.
“Megan, wait a minute,” I heard from behind me when I’d left the front porch. I’d wondered if he’d follow me. But it wasn’t his deep, rich voice that called out to me.
I turned around as Tricia came down the porch steps to meet me on the mostly dirt front lawn. “Do you have plans today?” she asked.
A million reasons why she’d ask ran through my mind, and what I’d be getting into if I said no. “No,” I said. “Not really. Laundry, maybe. Studying, probably. Should be, anyway.”
“I see. I just… Hmm… How should I say this?”
Keep your hockey groupie whore hands off my grieving son? Was that what she wanted to say? I had gotten that vibe slightly at the start of dinner last night, but it was soon gone, and there was a totally different energy from her this morning. Which made me wonder if my name had come up when they went back to their hotel with Logan.
“Say what?”
“Well, I know you lost your mother. Is there anywhere or anything that you could use that I could take you shopping for? Anything you need? Clothes? Things for your dorm?”
“You don’t need to buy me clothes, Mrs. Fields,” I said. I could have been offended, but I wasn’t. It wasn’t a money thing. It was a filling-the-void thing. I guessed that could have offended me as well, but it didn’t.
“No, no, of course not. And call me Tricia, please. I just wondered if once you got here, you found that you could have really used… a hot plate or something.”
I laughed. “Nope. No need for a hot plate.” I wasn’t even sure what that was.
She smiled when she saw I was taking this all in the way she’d intended. “No, of course not. That was more frommycollege days. Is there anything for which a trip to Costco or a clothing store or wherever might be helpful? We rented an SUV for the weekend.”
It was what my mom had done last year. She’d flown here with me and stayed in Schoolport a couple of days, which we spent getting supplemental stuff for my room.
Tricia would have done the same with Logan in a different dorm. She would have known there was no one in that role for me this year.
“My aunt offered to come with me. But I thought I could handle it alone,” I said quietly, letting her know that I knew her ulterior, though super-thoughtful, motive. To be a woman in my life I could lean on. If only to help me pick out a hot plate. Whatever that was.
She reached out and put a warm hand on my shoulder. “And was that the right move?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. But I wasn’t the only one who came alone, and it was fine after the first day or two.”
She nodded. “Logan said being in the grief study has been helpful for him. I hope you find some worth in it as well.”
“I do. It’s been really beneficial, I think. It’s a good group of people and I’m learning things about grief, and myself, that I hadn’t thought of before.”
“I’m so glad you have that.”
“Do you?” I asked before I thought better of it.
“Pardon?” Her hand dropped from my shoulder and she took a step back.
I called on my inner Marlo London. “You lost a son, Tricia. Watched him suffer. And I’m sure you’re putting your husband’s, and Logan’s, needs ahead of yours, as women often do. But you need to mourn too.”
She nodded a little too forcefully, like maybe she was trying to stop the tears that had formed in her eyes from falling. “Some days it feels like that’s all I do. Mourn J.”
“That’s okay. Have those days,” I said.
