Chapter One

Standing at the door, she rested one hand on the knob, the fingers of her free hand inching toward the curled edge of the football schedule that was still tacked in place. The New York Giants had won the Superbowl that year and he hadn’t ever taken the schedule down. He had been so proud of his team that year he had even managed to drag her into his excitement. That his birthday had landed on that same day had made it all that much more enjoyable for him.

She sighed, rolling her forehead against the door frame as she let her fingers wander down to the bumper sticker he had stuck on the door too. Baseball, his other love. They had made it a point to go to as many home games as they could during the season. Even when their hometown team wasn’t doing well, when it was hotter than hell at six in the evening, they trekked to the stadium to watch the games. She went for him. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t have done for him.

Slowly she pushed the door open. She hadn’t set foot in this room in a year. It still smelled faintly of him. She wandered it with her eyes, letting her gaze slowly roam over every inch. Trying not to remember. She closed her eyes against the rush of tears. Trying harder not to forget.

He had helped her paint the room the two shades of green. His favorite color. She had allowed him to decorate the walls however he chose. The New York Giants adorned three of the walls. The New York Yankees took up the fourth. He may have looked like her, but in every other way that mattered, he was his father incarnate.

She dragged the boxes in and took another look around. It was time. The “For Sale” sign was going up in a few days and she needed to get the house ready, even if she herself wasn’t quite there yet. Starting at the bookshelf she boxed up Dr. Seuss, Harry Potter, the Magic Tree House. She would donate them all to the library. Someone else would get the same enjoyment out of them as her son had she was sure. Her hand stopped on the last book on the bottom shelf. It had been his favorite when he had been little. She had read about the boats nearly every night for a year. She set that one aside. She just couldn’t part with that one.

Working tirelessly, with the music that both soothed and encouraged her playing in the background, she boxed and bagged the entire room; clothes would go to goodwill, games too. The garbage would go to the curb and the bed would be sold with the house. She would never be able to get the metal bunk taken apart and she had no use for it now anyway. Sitting on the edge of the bed she took another look around. The walls were bare now, waiting to be washed. The dresser top was empty, in need of a good dusting. The globe was going with her and the desk would stay. It was just an empty room now. Like her own nearly was.

Absently she picked up the lone stuffed animal that lay on the bed. Looking down at it she stroked the worn, well-loved bunny as the tears rolled silently down her cheeks. She missed them so much. Losing them both had been beyond devastating.

She stood, her jeans bagged around her hips. Tugging them up, she dug in a pocket for a tissue and wiped her face. She had to have cried herself a river in the last year. She looked around the room one last time. She would always miss them. Her heart would never be quite whole again without them, but she had to do this. Her family, friends and even her therapist had told her she needed to start living again. Just merely existing wasn’t doing her any good.

But none of them understood. The fog she had lived in for the last year was the only way she could deal with the loss. The man she had loved for more than half her life and the child they had made together had been taken from her, ripped from her life so carelessly that she nearly hadn’t survived it. Yet here she was, a year later finally emerging from the haze of grief that had been her security blanket for so many days and nights.

Adding bunny to the small pile of keeps she dragged the garbage down the stairs and out the front door. The nights were the worst. Lying in their bed, his side always empty, yet his scent clung to his pillow, their quilt, the air. She hadn’t slept that first week. Finally out of sheer exhaustion she had changed the sheets, bagging them up, not able to bring herself to wash them for fear of losing that tiny bit of him he had left behind, but needing to be rid of that smell so she could find a few hours of escape in the oblivion of sleep. Even now she only managed a few restless hours a night, still not able to find comfort in their bed without him.

Sighing she climbed the stairs once more, this time she stepped into her own room. Her reflection in the wide mirror on her dresser had her pausing. Was that really her? Where was the rest of her? The woman staring back at her was just a shadow of who she had once been.

Her face was gaunt, her eyes held on to the eternal sadness that had been there since the day she had gotten the god awful news. Her hair was haphazardly pulled into a ponytail and it hung in limp strands down her back. Her jeans were at least two sizes too big and her collarbones protruded almost grotesquely. She turned away, not wanting to acknowledge the broken shell she had become, able to deal only with the task at hand for now. She would worry about herself later.

Her room was nearly empty, the bed and dressers were all that remained and again, she was going to sell them with the house. She had cleared out nearly everything, donating and giving away all of her husband’s things, keeping only his coveted Yankee’s jersey and his favorite Dallas Cowboys jersey for herself. One she wore on game day, the other she slept in. Just to keep him close for a while longer.

She wandered back downstairs, the music that filtered through was a quiet comfort. She hardly ever watched the television these days, preferring her music instead. As much as her husband and son had given her grief about the band and music she loved, she knew they didn’t really mind. It was the only hobby she had and, if she was being honest, her husband indulged her obsession more than he probably should have. It was just one of the many things she had loved about him.

Booting up her laptop she opened her e-mail and found what she had been waiting for. She had gotten the job she had applied for and interviewed over the phone for. Even if the house didn’t sell right away, she was leaving. For California. She would be starting work as a slush reader at International Creative Management in Los Angeles in just 3 weeks. She smiled, the action felt almost foreign to her. She would be reading for a living.

She wanted to share her news, but who could she tell? She looked down at the screen, would her friends still remember her? It had been so long since she had made any kind of contact with any of them. They had done their best to be there for her, even making the trip from here, there and everywhere to be with her for the funeral and for a few days after. But, eventually they all had to get back to their own lives. And, slowly, she had stopped reading and answering the e-mails, stopped posting to her blog, just stopped. Now though, maybe it was time to start again. Taking a deep breath, she clicked compose.

To: The Girls

From: Q

Re: Hi

Hey girls, it’s me. I hope you haven’t forgotten me. Goodness knows I haven’t forgotten any of you. I just wanted you all to know that I’m still here, still alive and, finally, moving on.

I cleaned out Little Man’s room today. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I got through it. The house goes up for sale in just a few days and I start a new job in 3 weeks.

I’ll be leaving for California as soon as I can get myself together. I just wanted you all to know.

I miss you all.

Q

Pulling the door shut, she turned, looking at the house that had been her home for nearly 20 years. So many memories, years and miles of them were wrapped up in that house. Soon though, it would belong to someone else. New memories would be made here. Happy ones she hoped.

An arm snaked around her waist. Her sister was there to take her to the airport, to say goodbye. “Are you sure about this?”

Stephanie nodded as she turned her head. Her sister’s face was a mask of sadness. The loss of her husband and son had not only affected her. Her family had lost a son, son-in-law, brother, brother-in-law; grandson and nephew. The loss had resonated through all of them, and still echoed with her. “Yeah Jess. I have to.” As hard as this was, if she didn’t go, she was afraid she would continue to just merely exist, not really live.

Jess tightened her hold, “I’ll miss you. You’ll call me, right?”

Stephanie nodded, “I promise. You know I need to go, right?”

Jess took one of the suitcases. “I do. I don’t have to like it though.”

Together they slammed the hatch and walked around to their respective doors. “You can always come visit you know.”

Jess climbed behind the wheel. “Count on it.”