Page 19 of It's a Widow Thing

“I’m not. These are facts.” His eyes swept back and forth, scanning her face. “You’re stunning and smart. I consider myself lucky to be taking it slow with you.”

A smile bloomed on her face. “What do you have planned today? Do you want to go for a walk? Maybe down to Washington Square Park?”

“Absolutely. Of course.”

“Perfect. I’ll grab my coat.”

Bundled up, they headed to the elevator and then outside. The day was bright and brisk, and Sabrina found herself overcome by a sense of happiness. She’d been so torn up over what to do about Michael, and now the pressure was off. He’d agreed to take it at her pace. “Tell me more about your family,” she said as they made their way down Fifth Avenue.

“I told you a lot last night. It’s not super exciting. Grew up in Connecticut, oldest of three boys. My mom is a force of nature. Always busy, always planning, and trying to get everyone else to go along with her. My dad is super laid back, unless the Saints are playing and then he’s a totally different person.”

“Are you close with your brothers?”

“We are, although the dynamic has changed over the years.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Just that I’m the oldest, so they both used to look up to me. Follow my lead. If I did something, they wanted to do it, too. But then Brian got married and they had their daughter, Zoe. And you’d have thought the entire world came grinding to a halt. My mom always wanted a girl, so that was her chance. Daniel got married a few years after that, and now they have a kid on the way.” They stopped at the corner to wait for the signal, and he shrugged. “So now I feel like they’re light years ahead of me and I’m playing catch-up.”

“What? Don’t say that. You’re incredibly successful. You’ve done very well for yourself.”

They started across the street, almost to Waverly Place. Ahead was the famous stone arch marking the main entrance to the park. “Ah, but I don’t have a family of my own. As far as my parents are concerned, success means nothing without a family. And what am I supposed to say to that? They have their priorities straight. It is more important than money.”

“But you have them. They’re your family. You don’t have to be married and have kids to have a family. Sometimes, you have to make your own support system. I don’t have any blood relatives, or at least none that I know of. So I made my own family with the women I work with. I even found some surrogate moms.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Well, there’s Mrs. Van Cleeve. She has been incredibly kind to me. And then I also belong to a widows group.” As they passed through the arch and into the beauty of the park, with its trees turning vibrant shades of orange and gold, and leaves fluttering to the ground, Sabrina thought about the seasons and the cycles we all experience, whether we want to or not. Orla and Kendra had helped her move through the winter of her grief and shown her that spring would eventually comes. “They helped me see that I still had so much ahead of me.”

“That’s so amazing.” Michael led them around the circular stone fountain, which had arching streams of water and a ledge for people to sit. Sabrina knew from experience that it was a great place to perch on a hot day. All around them, people milled about. Roller skaters and skateboarders threaded their way through the crowd while couples strolled and held hands or parents pushed babies and toddlers in strollers. A little boy ran and squealed with delight, while his anxious caregivers chased behind. Some folks were alone, reading a book on a bench or people-watching. As chaotic and frustrating as the city could be, Sabrina loved it here. In many ways, it too had been by her side since she lost Andrew. As sad as she could sometimes get, every day brought reminders of life. Even on the days when she couldn’t bring herself to leave her apartment, she’d hear shouting down on the street or an ambulance screaming by. It was as if New York was whispering into her ear that life was still happening. It was waiting for her whenever she was ready to wade back in.

“Want to sit?” Michael asked when they reached an empty bench in a sunny spot.

“Sure.” They took a spot at one end, sitting closer than friends.

Michael leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees and looked at her. “Do you want to tell me about your husband or is it too difficult?”

She admired that he’d framed it that way. No pressure. Just a caring question. “His name was Andrew. He was brilliant. He worked in software development.” Sabrina didn’t want to boil his life down to what sounded like a resume. “He was an avid runner. In amazing shape. He loved music and traveling. He loved his family.”

“And he loved you. Very much, I’m sure.”

Sabrina swallowed hard, giving the emotion a second to pass through her. “He did. And I loved him.”

“How did you meet?”

“Not unlike the way you and I did, although we didn’t live in the same building. We lived on the same block. In Brooklyn. We regularly saw each other at the coffee shop that was halfway between our buildings. One Saturday morning, we started talking, and the next thing we knew, it was three hours later. He asked for my number and we went from there.”

Michael looked down at the ground, nodding. “Was it love at first sight?”

Sabrina felt her heart squeeze a little tighter just thinking about the beginning with Andrew, before everything got amazing and before it all disappeared before her very eyes. There were still moments when it felt like he was right there. “I think it was, but of course, we both doubted it. We dated very casually for almost a year before we got serious, then things moved very fast. I was already thirty-eight and he was a year older than me. Once we were in, we were all in.”

“What was he like?”

“Clever. Funny. Incredibly kind. Generous.” Her voice trembled, and that made her spine stiffen, as if she could ward off the sadness. She knew from experience that she could not. “He was a great guy. You would have liked him. He would have liked you.”

“I wish I could’ve known him.” Michael turned and smiled, but it was the most bittersweet thing Sabrina had ever seen in her life. “I take it he got sick at some point?”

She nodded and drew in a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. It was good for her to talk about this, even when it was still so hard. It was one of the best ways to honor what she and Andrew had shared. “Yes. He did. His uncle had died of pancreatic cancer, and we decided to participate in a run to raise money for research. At the race, I was reading a pamphlet on symptoms and realized Andrew had a few. He was so healthy, he never went to the doctor, but I encouraged him to go. He was diagnosed two weeks later. The whole thing happened so fast. One day everything was great and four months later, he was gone.”