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“Hello?” Rachel said, and a moment later, she stuck out my phone. “It’s the realtor, Mom.”
My eyes flashed wide. “The realtor? Now? Uh, take a message.”
“She said it’s important.” Rachel held the phone out closer to me.
I hadn’t even officially listed my house yet, so I wasn’t sure what could be so pressing, but I took the phone and said, “Hello.”
“Sylvie? Hi. It’s Stacie. I know we talked about selling, and we were planning on listing soon, but someone stopped by and was looking forexactlywhat you have. I told him a little about it, showed him some of the photos, and ... he’s put in an offer. A big one. He doesn’t even need to go in it. Pending inspection, which it should pass with no problems, he wants it.”
“Already?” I choked out the word. “What? But it’s not even for sale yet.”
“He wants it. Badly. If you’re willing to sell, he’s ready to buy. I know it’s fast, but he’d like a sixty-day closing.”
Sixty days.
If I said yes, in sixty days, my home on Wilder Lane would no longer be mine. I’d officially be saying goodbye to the part of my life with Bruce there ... to the part of my life where I’d met my most cherished friends.
I looked up at them, each watching me with concern.
“What’s going on?” Marge asked.
“Stacie, I’m going to have to call you back. I’m just about to walk down the aisle.”
“Oh! I’m so sorry! By all means. Just let me know by tomorrow, okay?”
“Yeah. I will. Thanks,” I said, then ended the call.
“What is it, Mom?” Rachel saw the shock on my face and came up to my side. “Is everything okay?”
“The house. Someone wants to buy it.”
Her eyes went big. “Wow. That was fast.”
“Yeah. It was. Too fast.”
“You’re really selling?” Doris asked, her sad eyes meeting mine.
“I ... I don’t know. I thought I was. But now ...” A feeling of deep dread and sadness pierced my gut when I thought about walking out of the house for the last time. “I don’t know.”
I looked at my widows, thinking about all our memories in that house and on that street and realizing that when I sold the house, even though we would always be forever friends, I’d be shutting the door on that chapter of my life. Shutting the door on the option of going home to live by them, seeing them every day like we used to.
Suddenly, like a wrecking ball to the gut, I identified that missing piece that had been holding me back from the joy I should be feeling about my wedding.
By choosing Tom, I lost them.
I’d move into his house, sell mine, and close the door on having my cherished friends just down the street forever. Sure, we’d get together a few times a year for our wishes and visits, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t ... enough.
I wanted both.
My widowsandTom.
I wanted it all.
Like a little lightbulb went off above my head and illuminated my entire world, I lifted my finger. “Oh, my God. I know what’s wrong. I finally figured out why I’m struggling with getting married.” I lowered my phone and set it on the table.
“Wait. You’re thinking of calling off the wedding?” Rachel’s voice shot up an octave. “What?”
“No.” I shook my head. “No, of course not. I love your father, and I’ve been waiting most of my life to be his wife. But our whole trip, there’s been a slight sadness when I think of the wedding instead of the pure joy I should feel over getting to marry Tom. He’s my true love. My soulmate. I should be elated. But every time I thought about marrying him, a little sadness crept in. I couldn’t put my finger on what was wrong until now. Hearing my house sold and knowing that means officially ending my option of going back to Wilder Lane with the widows really brought it into perspective.”
