“Death is as threatening today as it was sixteen years ago.”
She presses her lips together and nods, gazing around the room. “I know that fear. I look at my children’s faces every night and imagine all the terrible things that could happen to them. But you have to let someone in eventually, Jocelyn. Closing yourself off doesn’t make you safe. It makes you less human.”
The sincerity in her expression strikes deep, and I fight the sudden burn in my throat. I look down, willing away the tears.
Ali is the only person in my life who truly understands my abnormal normality. She lived through the trauma right beside me and knows the invisible scars that grief has left. These words are hard-earned lessons she’s learned from years of therapy and unconditional love from her husband.
She’s further along in her journey to self-healing than I am.
I’m not sure I’ll ever reach her level.
My phone buzzes, and I pull it from my back pocket. A text from Sue Ellen pops up.
Is my son eating enough? He looks so skinny.
I’ll feed him a cheeseburger today myself
Mwahaha. Take that, shredded abs.
Such a dear. He prefers cheddar.
I’ll put on two slices
Did I mention he took dance classes in high school? He’s quite good.
Ballroom?
Yes. And hop hop.
Hip hop?
Yes that
I grin at my phone. Sue Ellen is pure gold. A veritable treasure trove of embarrassing Asher information.
Ali peeks over my shoulder. “Who’s Sue Ellen?”
“Asher’s mom.”
The accusatory tone returns. “You text hismom?”
“I will not be judged for this.” I glare at her. “Sue Ellen is the tits.”
“Oh, girl. He’s in there way deeper than I thought, isn’t he?”
“Shut up. My walls are higher than ever.” Does it matter if he might have—okay, probably has—already tunneled under them?
“Right,” she says. “Keep telling yourself that.”
Asher
Sometimes, when we look too hard for something, we fail to see the things that are right in front of us.
—My Therapist
I arrive at the field Yayoi specified while Joss and Ali are still in the middle of their shoot. As instructed, I’m wearing light khakis and a white button-up, and I made sure my hair has enough gel to hold that purposely tousled vibe despite the breeze.
All for Yayoi.
