By the following Sunday, the finished ramp had become part of my ordinary thoughts.
I found myself picturing it when I stood at the kitchen sink.
Not because I needed it that day.
Because somebody had thought far enough ahead to build it.
I wasn't used to that kind of attention anymore.
Dwight had loved me, but we had always dealt with problems when they arrived.
A broken appliance got fixed when it stopped working.
A doctor's appointment got made when something hurt.
A loose board stayed loose until somebody tripped over it.
That was how we'd lived.
Wendell seemed different.
He looked at a problem and wondered how to make it easier before it became one.
I didn't know whether that made him wiser or simply more patient.
Maybe both.
On Sunday, he arrived carrying a bag of peaches.
He set them on the counter and looked at the pot on my stove.
"What are we having?"
"Beef stew."
He sniffed the air.
"I was hoping you'd say that."
I laughed.
"You don't get to choose the menu just because you brought fruit."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
We ate together in the kitchen.
The afternoon passed quietly.
Afterward, Wendell sat in Dwight's recliner while I put away the dishes.
He'd become comfortable in that chair, and I no longer felt the need to apologize to Dwight in my head whenever I saw him sitting there.
I was beginning to understand that remembering somebody didn't require keeping every object untouched.
Later, Wendell went home.
I had just finished wiping the table when my phone rang.
Zach.
I answered.
"Hello, honey."
"Hey, Mama. You busy?"
"Just cleaning up."
He asked if he could stop by the next day.
I told him he could.
He sounded serious, but I didn't ask why.
I'd spent too much time trying to anticipate what he might say.
The next afternoon, he arrived alone.
He brought no children, no groceries, and no excuse about being in the neighborhood.
He sat at the kitchen table and accepted a cup of coffee.
For a while, we talked about the body shop.
He told me business had been steady.
I asked about Jordyn and the children.
Then he set his cup down.
"Can I ask you something about Wendell?"
I sighed.
"You can ask."
"Are you thinking about marrying him?"
The question caught me off guard.
I stared at my son.
"Where did that come from?"
He shrugged.
"I've been thinking about it."
I folded my hands on the table.
"Your father has been gone two years. Wendell and I have been seeing each other for a few months. I haven't made any decisions about marriage."
Zach nodded.
"But have you thought about it?"
I looked out the window.
The flowers I'd bought for myself had wilted, and I needed to throw them away.
I had been so busy living that I hadn't stopped to imagine what the next year might look like.
Marriage.
The word seemed enormous.
Dwight and I had been married for decades.
We'd shared a home, children, bills, illnesses, holidays, and the ordinary arguments that came from knowing another person too well.
I couldn't imagine making those promises again.
But I couldn't honestly say the thought had never crossed my mind.
"I don't know," I told him.
Zach leaned back.
"That's what worries me."
I turned toward him.
"Why?"
"Because if you marry him, things get complicated."
"Things are already complicated."
He rubbed his forehead.
"You know what I mean. The house. The insurance. Your savings."
There it was again.
Money.
I understood why he cared about it.
He had grown up watching his father work long hours to keep our family secure.
He knew what the insurance money meant to me.
But I was tired of every conversation about Wendell returning to the same place.
"Zach, I'm not planning to hand him my bank account."
"I'm not saying you are."
"Then what are you saying?"
He looked down at the table.
"I just don't want you making a decision because you're afraid of being alone."
I sat very still.
That was a different question.
One I couldn't answer by pointing to the ramp or the yellow bowl.
I had to look at myself.
Was I seeing Wendell because I was lonely?
Of course I was lonely sometimes.
Everybody who lost a spouse understood that feeling.
But was loneliness the only reason I wanted him around?
I thought about the way he listened.
The way he laughed at my jokes.
The way he respected my need to be alone when a memory of Dwight caught me unexpectedly.
I thought about how he never insisted that I spend every evening with him.
He had his own house, his own routines, and his own grief.
We weren't trying to become one person.
We were learning how to be two people who enjoyed being together.
"I don't want to be alone for the rest of my life just to prove I can manage it," I said.
Zach looked at me.
"And I don't want to marry somebody simply because I'm afraid of being alone."
I let those words settle.
"If Wendell and I ever decide to marry, we'll talk about it carefully. We'll talk about money and property and everything else that matters."
Zach nodded.
"But you don't get to make that decision for me."
He stared into his coffee.
For a moment, I felt sorry for him.
He was trying to imagine his mother building a life he hadn't planned for her.
I knew it frightened him.
But he had to learn that my future belonged to me.
He stood after a while and hugged me.
"I just want you to be happy, Mama."
I held him tightly.
"I know."
He left without arguing.
I watched his truck pull away.
Then I sat at the kitchen table and thought about the question he'd asked.
Marriage.
I wasn't ready to answer it.
But I no longer felt ashamed of wondering what life with Wendell might look like.
That evening, I called Wendell.
We talked about the weather and the ramp.
I almost told him about Zach's question.
Instead, I asked whether he'd eaten supper.
He said he'd made eggs and toast.
I told him he deserved better than that.
He laughed.
"You're welcome to come over and improve my menu."
"Don't tempt me."
After we hung up, I stood in the kitchen for a long time.
I had spent years thinking the future was something that ended when Dwight died.
Now I understood that the future was still there.
I simply hadn't been ready to look at it.
Click here to continue reading: PART 14: The First Time Wendell Asked Me What I Wanted From Our Future, I Realized I Had Been So Busy Defending My Choices That I Hadn’t Asked Him About His
My Husband Had Been Gone Two Years, but the First Man Who Made Me Feel Alive Again Had Something He Wouldn’t Explain
Part 13 of 24
