“You’re just in time, my dear. The lady of the house has a mouthwatering lasagna in the oven and your finest dollar store wine uncorked and ready to pour.” Boone pulled me from the front stoop into his burly chest, enveloping me in one of his famous bear hugs that reminded me of the ones his son used to give, solid and strong. Old Spice wafted into my nose. It was a woodsy scent that I affiliated with all men his age and it was welcome and comforting in its familiarity. “Once we’re all around the table, I want to hear about every second of your day. No details left out.”
“Mallory, is that you?” I heard Sharon’s voice before I saw her peek around the corner. Corbin jutted out on her full hip. He was dressed in a new outfit I didn’t recognize and I realized it must be one of his grandparents’ new purchases. They spoiled that boy of mine rotten, and I was so very grateful for it.
“Hi, Mom.” I walked toward my mother-in-law and Corbin stretched out two chubby arms. His upper half leaned forward and I scooped him into me. “Smells wonderful in here.”
“I do my best.” Sharon shrugged, humbly.
“That’s a lie, my sweet.” Boone deposited a chaste kiss on the crown of his wife’s gray head of hair. “Stouffer’s does its best. You do the bare minimum.”
With a devilish grin, Sharon elbowed her husband in his stomach and then whipped him with the checkered dishtowel she had draped over her shoulder. He shrugged away from her attempted assault, but not before he got in a playful swat on her backside.
“Corbin just got up from his nap about twenty minutes ago. He’s been begging for a snack, but I figured he could wait until dinner.”
“That’s perfect.” I followed my in-laws into the heart of the house, where it opened up into a large family room with overstuffed, distressed leather couches and chairs. The ceiling vaulted steeply and exposed wood beams slanted across the pitch of it. There was a stone fireplace that stretched two stories high and even though it was hot out and no fire currently blazed in the hearth, the room felt just as warm and inviting as it did on a cozy winter’s day.
“Tara said they went to the park and his music class down at the church this morning. Apparently his girlfriend, Lizzy, was quite the flirt today, slobbering all over our little guy.”
I turned Corbin around in my arms to look into his sweet blue eyes. “Is that so?” I teased. “We can’t have any of that, now can we? Much too young to have girls chasing after you.”
Corbin gurgled and babbled on cue.
From the dining room, I heard Boone click the tray off the highchair and then he came walking toward me, hands flapping in a “give it here” sort of way. Corbin all but dove into his grandpa’s arms, but not before I smothered him with a kiss on his cheek.
“Let’s leave the women to the kitchen where they belong.”
“Thomas Boone Quinn! You are fixing to sleep on the couch tonight!” Sharon yelled.
“Don’t let the angry one scare you, my boy. She’s more bark than bite.”
Sharon looked at me and rolled her eyes. “God bless him,” she muttered as she retrieved a bottle of merlot from the counter. Her dark eyes raised as if asking if I’d like a glass and I nodded my answer. “He’d be lost without me.” She smiled as she withdrew two glasses from the cupboard and poured them full of the dark purple liquid. She slid one my way as I retrieved a barstool under the counter to sit down.
“Good first day?”
I took a sip and immediately felt a warm tingle seep into my body. There was nothing like a glass of wine at the end of a long day. “It really was.” I thought back on the things I’d learned, the new people I’d met, and the hopeful opportunity before me at the florist. “Truly.”
“That seems to be the case for you lately, Mallory. More good days than bad.”
If anyone had the right to speak about something like this, it was Sharon. I may have lost my husband, but she’d lost her eldest child, her only son. I recognized the good days for her, too, the ones where her eyes were a little less swollen, her tone a little less soft and far off, like she longed for someplace else. But there was heartbreak in the good days, underneath the layers of happiness. Moving on held its own sorrow, maybe not in equal part, but it was there, shrouded in guilt. I often felt guilty for feeling good.
I took another slow drink from my glass.
“I wanted to ask if it would be okay if we had Corbin overnight one of these nights. Boone finished with the crib last week and I finally sewed the bumper for it.” She looked into my eyes and tilted her head. “I understand if you’re not ready to be away from him for that long.” She lingered on her words a moment before saying, “I know it will be hard to be home alone in the house.”
I shook my head, too quickly. “No, of course. It’s fine. In fact, I think he’d love that. Staying over at Grandma and Grampy’s, waking up and watching cartoons.” Of course I knew an eight-month-old was too young for Saturday morning television, but I was trying to convince myself that it was for his best to spend more time with his grandparents. It was, I knew that. He needed more than just me.
“It doesn’t have to be anytime soon. Just know that we’re here, and maybe a little break might be good for you.”
I reached across the counter for Sharon’s hand. “I appreciate that, I do. I love you guys.” Without warning, a tear skated down my cheek. They had a way of doing that, of escaping one by one. It was like they were always right there at the edge of the dam, just waiting to make their way out and ambush me.
“And we love you.”
Just then, Boone and Corbin bounded into the kitchen, only to stop short when they glimpsed our exchange occurring before them. “Oh, Corb. We leave them alone for five minutes and they become a heap of hormonal tears. Women.”
“You, sir, are two comments away from a good beating.” Again, Sharon came at him with the towel, flicking it repeatedly at his backside as he dodged and hopped away from her. They had so much fun together that I couldn’t help but smile.
“Is that a threat or a promise?” Boone joked.
I laughed into my glass of merlot, loving all the banter and loving this family. It was so, so good to be loved.
Dinner and the conversation during it was just what I needed. We laughed when Corbin slung his lasagna from his tray, sending it across the room to splatter on the wall like an abstract painting. Babies got away with so much. I figured their innocence allowed them to misbehave every once in a while and go without proper punishment. Boone and Sharon adored that child, and their new wall decoration sent them into a fit of laughter, which only encouraged him to add one to the adjacent wall. In their eyes, he could do no wrong.
Sharon and I were washing up dishes, Boone on the floor stacking colorful learning blocks with Corbin, when my mother-in-law spoke up in a way that indicated she’d been storing this conversation for this precise moment.
“Mallory.” She said my name too formally for my liking. “I’m not sure how to broach the subject, but there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk with you about.”
My heart stuttered nervously. “Yes?”
“Have you thought about dating anyone?”
Of all the things the mother of my dead husband could ask, that was not one that came to mind. I chuckled a little in relief, a little in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry. It’s not my place to ask. It’s just,” she stammered on as she vigorously scrubbed the dried on lasagna from the pan. “It’s just, I think ultimately it would be nice for Corbin to have a male role model in his life. I understand that Dylan’s only been gone a year and a half, but I worry if you never let him go, you’ll never be able to fully move forward.”
“Move forward with someone else.”
“As odd as that sounds coming from me, yes, with someone else.”
“I don’t know, Mom. I don’t think my heart is there yet.” I didn’t want to cry again tonight. My shoulders sagged and I shook my head. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh goodness, you shouldn’t be apologizing for loving my son.” Her hands were wet and soapy but she wrapped them around me still. “Don’t ever apologize for that.”
After things were cleaned up, we joined Boone and Corbin in the family room. Sharon carried the bottle of merlot and tilted it toward me. “Another glass?”
“I’m good.” I waved my hand. “Actually, if you don’t mind watching Corbin for a little bit longer, there’s something I need to drop off real quick.”
“You hear that, Buddy?” Boone scooted closer to my boy and he rolled a small soccer ball toward him over the rug. Corbin batted at it, squealing. “We get to play even longer.”
“Of course,” Sharon said as she took her seat on the floor next to the two. “Take all the time you need.”
“I shouldn’t be long.” I stood to gather my purse and keys and as I walked to the entryway, I heard the three chatting to one another and for the first time in a long while, it didn’t feel like something—or someone—was missing.
When I got to my car, the reality of that washed over me.
Then I burst into the tears that had been saving themselves for this exact moment.
