Book Three/Chapter Forty-Two: "Misconceptions"
It was as if a ghost from my past had materialized before me and now was not the time! These days, I was doing the best I could to remember to breathe. I wasn't in the mood for a confrontation!
Ani's mother had never liked me. Not even while we were dating. I was never certain why. Maybe she thought I was too old for him. He was three years younger than me and had so much going for him. He was athletic and an outstanding baseball player. His high school coach had no doubt he would one day be pitching in the major leagues.
The problem was, he enjoyed partying too much. In the beginning, it was fun. We would go out with his friends whenever I came home from college on the weekends and get rowdy. After a while, however, I began to see a damaging pattern developing. The party never seemed to stop. Soon, Ani's grades began suffering and he nearly wasn't offered a scholarship at all. The four-year colleges that had been looking at him got wind of his issues and passed him by.
A junior college had picked him up instead, promising to transfer him to a larger school if he proved he was mature enough to handle it.
I stood by him the entire time but was powerless to do anything to prevent his downfall.
And then I did the stupidest thing any woman could do. I agreed to marry him, believing that it would settle him down and help him grow up. He was eighteen at the time and I was twenty-one. Looking back now, even though I did love him, I realize we were too young to get married. What we ended up doing was playing house.
I was in my third year of college while he was just starting and at the same time, we were beginning a life together. It proved too much.
And then one night, one of his team members called me. I was in our apartment studying, but he informed me he thought I should get to the bar right away. Ani was drunk and there was an old girlfriend there hitting on him.
I thanked the friend and hurried to the college town where Ani was attending school. It was a good half hour away from our apartment, and by the time I'd gotten there, he and this girl were on the dance floor making a spectacle of themselves.
I kept my head and after separating them, tried to convince him to go home with me. He made a scene and called me his old lady and then told anyone who would listen how I wasn't fun any longer – ever since I'd put on that wedding ring.
He was drunk when he said it, but his words still stung. I gave in and let him stay for a short while. I even sipped a little wine myself. But it was late, I needed to study some more and I wanted to leave.
After several failed attempts, I finally recruited some of his more sober friends to take him to the car. He was belligerent and angry; upset for being forced to leave the bar, as well as the fact I wouldn't let him drive.
As I pulled out into the street, he was yelling and cursing at me, angrier than I'd ever seen him. I did my best to ignore his intoxicated outbursts until I couldn't take it anymore and I lashed out at him. In no uncertain terms, I told him he was wasting his talents and his life.
I'd taken my eyes off the road and during that split second, we were blindsided by a drunken driver.
Mrs. Walker wouldn't listen to the police. She definitely wouldn't listen to me or anyone else for that matter who tried to tell her that her son was the one with the drinking problem, that I was sober and wasn't at fault for his death.
I hadn't seen her since the funeral and the last words she had spoken to me included somehow getting vengeance for her son.
She had tried and failed. And here she was again; three years later, standing on my fiancée's doorstep, slowly being blanketed with snow. And what for? Why was she here?
First things first, I needed to let Ben know who she was. He had enough stress in his life already, having to deal with me every day. The man was a saint and never complained when he had every right to.
"Ben, this is Sharon Walker, Ani's mother."
"This is the woman who…?" Ben uttered with disbelief and growing vehemence. "I'm sorry," he said, spinning back around, "but Ami's been through a lot recently and I won't have you upsetting her. You need to go. Now. Or I'll arrest you for trespassing."
His words, though softly spoken were firm and only seemed to add weight to the woman's already sinking frame.
"Ami," she said glumly. "Please, let me come in so we can talk. There's so much I have to say and so much to ask your forgiveness for."
We were both stunned to silence until it was Obi's bark that brought us back. The dog was telling us how rude we were being not to invite this poor woman out of the weather.
"Come in. Here," Ben said, taking her snow-covered coat from her. "Go stand by the fire. Would you like a cup of decaf? Maybe some hot spiced tea?"
"The tea sounds wonderful," she told him gratefully while rubbing her hands together.
"Join me by the fire," I suggested, escorting the older woman to the warmest place in the cabin.
By now the wood inside it had taken on a pleasant red glow and was putting out a lot of heat. I no longer needed the fuzzy plaid blanket and folded it neatly to place on the end of the couch.
"Ami," Mrs. Walker began before I stopped her with my upheld hand.
"Whatever you have to say, I wish you'd wait until Ben gets back. I don't want him to miss anything."
"Ben," she said with a slight smile. "Is he your new boyfriend?"
Boyfriend wasn't the exact word I would use.
"I see he's a police officer. How nice. I'm happy for you, Ami. Really, I am."
On the mantle above the woodstove was a collection of photos taken over the years of Quinn and Ben in their uniforms, typically one proudly handing the other an award of some type. There were other photos as well, and some of them included me. The picture Ben was most proud of was the one of me holding the huge trout I'd caught in the Fall. It was currently at the taxidermist and was going to hang in a place of honor on the wall, he'd informed me.
"Honestly, Sharon," I told her. "I'm surprised to hear you say that. I mean after everything that's happened."
Just in time, Ben stepped up and handed her a mug of the steaming liquid as well as one to me. He then quickly returned to the kitchen to retrieve his own preferred hot chocolate – the one with the tiny marshmallows he liked best, and then sat in the padded easy chair opposite us.
"That's why I had to come," the older woman said before blowing into the mug and taking a sip. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the taste slowly and thoroughly. "That's very good," she commented, looking at Ben.
"My mother's recipe. Handed down through generations," he told her proudly.
"Is she still living?"
How interesting. Perhaps, I'd made my mind up too quickly about this woman, although due to her past actions, no one could blame me. Maybe, she'd been too hurt by the death of her son to act any better than she had. Or maybe she had been worried about me marrying him and not the other way around. I'd never even considered that thought before now.
"No," Ben replied, leaning forward, warming his hands on his own mug. "Both she and my father passed when I was in my early twenties. This was their house."
"It's so charming," Sharon stated before glancing around and taking another drink. "And the area is gorgeous. I wouldn't mind settling down in a place like this myself."
After hearing such unexpected words, I gazed at Ben with both concern and surprise. His own brows rose but he didn't know what to say. Neither did I! I was hoping she was about to get to the point.
Sadly, Sharon sat back, took another drink, and then set the half-empty cup down on the end table. "Tomorrow is the third anniversary of Ani's death," she informed us.
I realized that, although I hadn't planned on sharing it with Ben. That episode of my life was behind me and there was no use in bringing it back up.
"And I'm afraid I've allowed my own bitterness and grief to fester in my soul until it has started to rot. I've become a resentful old woman and wanted nothing more than to hurt others the way I was hurting. I've come here to apologize to you for that, Ami.
I'm so sorry for the way I treated you, even while Ani was alive. You see, I knew who he was and I thought you deserved better. In a way, I guess I thought if I was rude, you would go away. It was foolish of me, I know. I see that now. But then the two of you seemed to be doing okay. I mean, before the wreck. Before that drunken bastard killed my boy."
It was the first time I had ever heard such words come out of Mrs. Walker's mouth. All this time, she had placed the blame on me.
Those words, however, were not the ones that rang true in my head.
Is she what I was fashioning myself to become? Even though I wasn't blaming anyone for my child's death, I was being awfully hard on myself. In doing so, was I becoming this bitter and angry woman who was not only difficult to be around but impossible to live with?
Just as the thought entered my mind, Obi gazed up at me with his unmatched eyes of brown and blue as if to tell me that's what he'd been trying to get me to see all along.
There was no one to blame. And by continuing to wallow in pity and self-deprecation, I was harming not only myself but my most important relationships. It had been days since I'd spoken with Sabrina and Ben had been constantly walking on eggshells.
How was that fair?
"This has been on my mind a lot lately," Sharon continued. "And I thought it was high time I come to tell you that I hold no grudges against you. I know you loved Ani and you did the best you could. That's all a mother could ever ask for."
A lump had formed in my throat and tears spilled from my eyes. I realized Mrs. Walker was going to mistake them for a response to her apology or even grief over Ani's death, when the truth was, my tears were releasing me from my own most recent regrets.
I surprised not only her but myself when I hugged the woman fiercely and accepted her apology immediately, but I was glad I had done so. When I released her, she seemed to sit a little taller and even looked a few years younger.
Her smile brightened as did her eyes when she took my hand and spoke: "Death is tragic, but it is not the greatest loss. The greatest loss is what dies inside while you're still alive. Live your life to the fullest, Ami, and make it wonderful."
A/N: Going on a mini-vacay. Will be back in four days!