going back to the clinic, seeing my doctor’s face,
reliving
it all.
Why did he bring it up? Does he
want
to hurt me?
I took a bite and let the crunch of the cereal drown out thoughts of Ethan, of the past. Instead, I thought about little Daniel Ray.
What became of him and his mother? Were they ever reunited? Did the snowstorm play a role in the tragedy?
On a Christmas trip to visit my grandparents in Maine as a child, it had snowed a foot. My little brother and I, two California kids, were wild-eyed by the sight, and we spent the week building snowmen, making snow angels, and catching snowflakes on our tongues. Pure joy. I longed to feel that way again, to mend the pain in my heart, the hole.
Did Daniel play in the snow the morning of his disappearance? Did he feel the same joy?
I sat on the bed and reached for the phone, wishing for theconfidence to make the call. At the hospital, my doctor had given me her personal cell phone number and encouraged me to contact her. I dialed the number, letting the phone ring for a frighteningly long second, then hung it up quickly.
No. Not yet.
Instead, I pulled back the quilt on the bed and hid under its warmth. An hour later, I heard Ethan come in. His keys jingled in his hand, and I turned to watch him pull a sweater from the closet, robotically, and walk out. The door to the apartment closed with an uncaring slam.
The next morning, snow still blanketed the streets, and forecasters warned that more could be coming. I made the hike up to Café Lavanto, this time in more suitable footwear. I had agreed to meet Abby there at nine, and she waited at a table by the fireplace, which I was happy to see stoked and roaring.
“Morning,” she said, sipping her trademark triple Americano.
“Hi,” I said, sliding into a chair next to her.
She frowned. “What’s with the sad face?”
I set my bag down dejectedly. “Ethan.”
“Sorry, hon,” she said. “What’s the latest?”
I sighed. “Oh, Abs, I don’t even know where to begin. It’s that bad.”
“Well,” she said, “you two have been through something major. You don’t come through that unchanged.” Even though unmarried herself, Abby was the best marriage counselor I knew.
“You’re right,” I replied. “I don’t want to lose him, but I don’t know how to fix things, either.” I paused and looked around the café, noticing Dominic behind the espresso bar. “Ethan had lunch with Cassandra again.”
Abby frowned. “That woman’s toxic, I tell you.”
“You’re telling me,” I said, noticing the faint ring of my phone in my bag. “Sorry,” I said. “I better get this.”
I didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
“Ms. Aldridge?”
“Yes?”
“This is Jerry from Elliott Bay Jewelers. Your watch is ready for pickup—the special order came in from New York this morning,” a man said. I’d almost forgotten about the watch I’d ordered for Ethan on a whim a month ago. He’d been wanting a Hugo Allen for at least a year. It had a stopwatch feature, which he’d said would come in handy for kids’ games and sports. For a daddy. Father’s Day was approaching, and I’d felt that a gift on the third Sunday in June might make him smile. It was going to be an olive branch.
“Oh, yes,” I said, half-wishing I’d never ordered it in the first place. “I’ll…come in to pick it up.”
“Did you want us to engrave something on the inside?”
“Engrave something?”
“Well, you certainly don’t have to,” he said. “But a lot of our customers like to personalize their gifts. It just makes it more special.”
“Oh,” I said. “Right.”
“So what would you like the engraving to say?”
What would I like to say? To my husband. The man who is slipping away from me. The man I worry I no longer know.
I shook my head.
How do you sum up your heart in a single sentence?
He obviously recognized my apprehension. “Do you want to think it over and then call us back when you
reliving
it all.
Why did he bring it up? Does he
want
to hurt me?
I took a bite and let the crunch of the cereal drown out thoughts of Ethan, of the past. Instead, I thought about little Daniel Ray.
What became of him and his mother? Were they ever reunited? Did the snowstorm play a role in the tragedy?
On a Christmas trip to visit my grandparents in Maine as a child, it had snowed a foot. My little brother and I, two California kids, were wild-eyed by the sight, and we spent the week building snowmen, making snow angels, and catching snowflakes on our tongues. Pure joy. I longed to feel that way again, to mend the pain in my heart, the hole.
Did Daniel play in the snow the morning of his disappearance? Did he feel the same joy?
I sat on the bed and reached for the phone, wishing for theconfidence to make the call. At the hospital, my doctor had given me her personal cell phone number and encouraged me to contact her. I dialed the number, letting the phone ring for a frighteningly long second, then hung it up quickly.
No. Not yet.
Instead, I pulled back the quilt on the bed and hid under its warmth. An hour later, I heard Ethan come in. His keys jingled in his hand, and I turned to watch him pull a sweater from the closet, robotically, and walk out. The door to the apartment closed with an uncaring slam.
The next morning, snow still blanketed the streets, and forecasters warned that more could be coming. I made the hike up to Café Lavanto, this time in more suitable footwear. I had agreed to meet Abby there at nine, and she waited at a table by the fireplace, which I was happy to see stoked and roaring.
“Morning,” she said, sipping her trademark triple Americano.
“Hi,” I said, sliding into a chair next to her.
She frowned. “What’s with the sad face?”
I set my bag down dejectedly. “Ethan.”
“Sorry, hon,” she said. “What’s the latest?”
I sighed. “Oh, Abs, I don’t even know where to begin. It’s that bad.”
“Well,” she said, “you two have been through something major. You don’t come through that unchanged.” Even though unmarried herself, Abby was the best marriage counselor I knew.
“You’re right,” I replied. “I don’t want to lose him, but I don’t know how to fix things, either.” I paused and looked around the café, noticing Dominic behind the espresso bar. “Ethan had lunch with Cassandra again.”
Abby frowned. “That woman’s toxic, I tell you.”
“You’re telling me,” I said, noticing the faint ring of my phone in my bag. “Sorry,” I said. “I better get this.”
I didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
“Ms. Aldridge?”
“Yes?”
“This is Jerry from Elliott Bay Jewelers. Your watch is ready for pickup—the special order came in from New York this morning,” a man said. I’d almost forgotten about the watch I’d ordered for Ethan on a whim a month ago. He’d been wanting a Hugo Allen for at least a year. It had a stopwatch feature, which he’d said would come in handy for kids’ games and sports. For a daddy. Father’s Day was approaching, and I’d felt that a gift on the third Sunday in June might make him smile. It was going to be an olive branch.
“Oh, yes,” I said, half-wishing I’d never ordered it in the first place. “I’ll…come in to pick it up.”
“Did you want us to engrave something on the inside?”
“Engrave something?”
“Well, you certainly don’t have to,” he said. “But a lot of our customers like to personalize their gifts. It just makes it more special.”
“Oh,” I said. “Right.”
“So what would you like the engraving to say?”
What would I like to say? To my husband. The man who is slipping away from me. The man I worry I no longer know.
I shook my head.
How do you sum up your heart in a single sentence?
He obviously recognized my apprehension. “Do you want to think it over and then call us back when you
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