A Widow Redefined Read Online Free Page A

work.
    She had good intentions. They all did. It started after the first year and a half. Fatima had a divorced uncle she thought I might like. My boss had a single buddy from his poker game. And now Barb. It was official. They all had tried. Maybe, I thought, they would finally just give up. No one could ever replace Justin.
    I continued working, not giving what she had said any further thought. There were a lot of files to be punched, and accurately. I didn’t have time to dilly dally. Before I knew it, it was time to leave.
    On my way home I thought about what I had told Barb, about going to the swimming class. Maybe I would do just that.
    Saturday morning I slept in, as I had hoped. When I woke up I found my family still hanging out in their pajamas, too.
    “Hey Mom. Did you guys eat?”
    “No. Not yet.”
    “You want me to make some breakfast?”
    My mom smirked. “You mean do we want oatmeal?”
    I flashed her a smile. “It’s like you’re psychic.”
    “Sure,” she replied. “That sounds good.”
    I didn’t know what she had against oatmeal. It tasted great, was proven to lower cholesterol, and you never got sick of it. At least
I
didn’t.
    I poured some water into a pot, and then I stared at it, watching it come to a boil, thinking about our plans for the day. We’d grocery shop, clean, and Tyler would do his homework, both for school and his art class. In the evening, after dinner, we’d play a game or watch a movie. A typical Saturday.
    Later on, after Tyler went to bed, I could tell my mom wanted to stay up. She had that anxious look on her face that she sometimes wore. I wasn’t sure if it was hormone changes or if she was being haunted by something. Either way, she’d never discuss it with me. But I knew when she wore that expression she needed me, and didn’t want to be alone.
    “Hey Ma. Why don’t you pick a movie. We’ll stay up late and watch it.”
    Her faraway look disappeared and she came back to the present. With the excitement of a youngster she said, “How about
Scarface
?”
    We’d seen it I don’t know how many times. I was surprised the DVD hadn’t cracked. But I knew how much she loved Al Pacino, and how she felt he’d been screwed out of an Oscar for the role, so I said. “Sure, why not.”
    As I grabbed the disc and took it from its case, I remembered how Justin used to sit with us while we watched it, mimicking the lines in a fake Cuban accent as the scenes unfolded. Somehow it added to the experience.
    Mom missed that too. Whenever we watched it now, she also tried to recite some of the better lines along with the actors. I joined in even though my accent stunk. It was fun. Almost like a sport. Plus, I liked making my mom laugh.
    •••••
    The next day was Tyler’s friend Sally’s birthday party.
    In the morning, Mom asked, “Are you going to your swimming class today?”
    I gave it a moment’s thought. “I’d like to. Since Tyler has that party in the afternoon. I could drop him off beforehand and pick him up on my way back home. You could finally have some time to yourself.”
    “Sounds good,” she said. “Maybe I’ll do a spa day.”
    After we ate breakfast, I showered and got ready to go to the cemetery. It was a numbers game. That was what I’d told myself.
    Lost in thought, I realized I hadn’t seen Tyler in a while. I searched the house and found him sitting in his room with a wrapped present on his lap.
    “All set,” he said.
    “Did Grandma wrap your gift?”
    “No,” he replied. “I did.”
    I didn’t remember showing him how to do that, but I didn’t ask questions.
    On the drive over Tyler seemed unusually quiet.
    “Something wrong?” I asked.
    “No.”
    Silence lingered. I could tell this would take more work.
    “You’re not saying much,” I noted.
    He sat for another minute, unresponsive. Then he blurted out, “Oh… I was just thinking.” But he still didn’t elaborate.
    “About what?” I asked.
    “Sally’s