Page 77 of The Seashell of ’Ohana

They both cocked their eyebrows.

I rubbed my hands together, feeling awkward. I should have done this over the phone. No. It was better in person. I needed closure, reassurance, or some sign. Something to make me feel less guilty, or I might never move forward.

“For what, Abby?” Peggy sounded concerned.

Here goes nothing. Just say it.

I bit my bottom lip and glanced between my mother-in-law and Michelle, wondering if they would feel betrayed or that I had let them down. That I hadn’t mourned Steve long enough.

“I met someone.” The words made my heart thump faster. “Nothing has happened. He wants more than friendship.” Then the tightness in my chest eased to have confessed openly.

“What do you want?” Michelle said.

There was no accusation in her tone, but I wasn’t sure how she truly felt.

I lowered my head, then raised my chin. “I don’t know. I’m not ready to jump into a relationship, but I’m open to dating and taking things slow.”

“So, this is why you came,” Peggy said, her tone neutral.

“Yes. You two mean so much to me, and I didn’t want to do it over the phone.” I shuddered a breath. “I will always love Steve. Ty and I will never forget him. I don’t know what the future will hold, and I don’t know if I’ll ever find love again, but I want you to know that no matter what, you’re my family.”

My mother-in-law’s features crinkled, and she clutched her chest as tears streamed down her face. “I knew this day would come, but I didn’t know I was going to react this way. Sorry.” Her lips pinched together. “Of course, you have our blessing, Abby. You’re still young, and you have another season of life ahead of you. It’ll be good for Tyler to have another role model besides you.” She blinked and blinked. “Just don’t forget us, okay?”

“Oh, Peggy.” I rushed over and wrapped her in my arms, relieved but also overwhelmed. “I promise.”

“I need a hug, too,” Michelle sniffed.

Peggy and I broke apart, smiling, and then I hugged Michelle.

“Well, whoever this guy is, he’ll be lucky to have you and Tyler in his life,” Michelle said.

“Thank you.” I shrugged. “I don’t know if anything will happen between us. I kind of left him hanging.”

“You did?” Michelle’s eyes rounded. “If he cares for you, he’ll give you time. You’ll have to send me a picture of him.” Michelle lightened the oppressive mood, but she cut it short. “I’ll be right back. I have something to give you.”

As I waited for Michelle, I sat next to Peggy again. It felt good to get to talk to them, but there was still something lingering inside that I couldn’t let go.

The screen door opening halted our conversation, and Michelle stepped out with a white envelope and a wrapped box. The shape and size of the envelope looked like it could be a holiday card. Michelle remained standing and held out the items to me.

“This is for you, Abby.”

“For me?” I rose and took them graciously. “Why?”

Michelle shifted, somewhat nervous. “It’s not from me. It’s from Steve. He asked me to give it to you when I thought you needed it. I think you coming here is a sign that you do. I hope it gives you comfort.” She peered down at her mother and offered a hand.

I waited until they were both inside and ripped open the seal with trembling fingers.

Chapter Thirty-One — The Letter

My stomach somersaulted—and then some—from the anticipation of what I’d find in Steve’s letter. I wished Michelle had given it to me when Steve passed away, but I couldn’t be upset with her. She was only fulfilling Steve’s wishes.

I didn’t know if my heart had any more room for pain, because whatever was in that letter was going to break me to pieces. With my trembling hands, pulse racing, I unfolded the paper.

My dearest Abby,

If you’re reading this letter, I’m no longer in this life with you and our son. I asked Michelle to give you this letter when she thought you needed it the most. I don’t know when that time will be, but a selfish part of me wishes you never will.

I hate that I won’t be there for you. I hate that I won’t be able to teach Ty how to ride a bike or play baseball. I hate that I’m dying, and there’s not a damn thing I can do. And most of all, I hate that I have to make you a widow.