had survived and Brad hadn’t. The questions went round and round in her head. Why had he fallen overboard? Why didn’t someone pull him out of the water? Why was she still alive? She had no one to talk to about it, as she lay in bed thinking for hours every night and then wandering around the house. She hadn’t even seen him slip out of the boat, and then suddenly he was in the water. She couldn’t imagine her life, or Aden’s, without him. Their life had seemed so perfect, and now everything was shattered. The airline had offered to arrange counseling for her, but she didn’t feel ready for it yet.
Despite what they were living through, she helped Aden with his college applications during the Christmas vacation. They went for long walks together, and a few of Aden’s closest friends came over. They sat quietly in his room, and he finally went out to dinner with them one night. Maggie sat alone in the house, and then looked into Brad’s closets, as though she still expected him to come home and tell her it was all a mistake and he’d been taken to a different hospital. It just didn’t seem possible that Brad had left her, as her father and brother had. They lived such a sane, careful life. They took no risks, did nothing dangerous. She had loved him for twenty years, and now he was gone.
The house felt like a tomb when Aden went back to school. Brad’s office manager wanted to speak to Maggie, but she told him she just couldn’t. She had no words for anyone. People were still leaving baskets of food on their doorstep, afraid to ring the doorbell. But she couldn’t eat any of it. She couldn’t imagine how their life would ever be normal again. She tried to be as functional as she could for Aden, but she felt like she was hanging by a thread.
Aden had somehow managed to get his college applications in on time, although he was telling her that he didn’t care about college now. She had been nine when she lost her father and Aden was seventeen, still a boy in so many ways. How was she going to be both mother and father to him? Just living and breathing seemed nearly impossible. She was doing it but didn’t know how.
She was sitting in their living room, staring into space in her nightgown, when one of the mothers from Aden’s hockey team texted her that she was going to drop by, and then bravely rang her doorbell. Maggie didn’t answer at first, and then finally opened it and stood there staring at her. There was no one in the world she wanted to speak to. She and Helen Watson weren’t close, but Maggie had always liked her.
They stared at each other for a moment, and Helen spoke softly. “What can I do to help?”
“Nothing,” Maggie said bleakly, understanding better now how disconnected her mother had been for years after Maggie’s father died. “There’s nothing anyone can do.”
“Make beds? Do dishes? Cook dinner?” she offered, as Maggie smiled, stood back, and invited her in. She didn’t really want to, but she didn’t want to be rude. Helen was a nice woman.
“Everything’s a mess. I haven’t done laundry or made a bed since…it happened.” She still couldn’t say the words yet.
“I worked my way through college as a maid at the Four Seasons,” Helen said with a smile. “You don’t even have to tip me.” Maggie laughed for the first time in weeks and the sound was unfamiliar to her. She felt as if she were lost in a strange new world, like Alice in Wonderland down the rabbit hole. It was suddenly a relief to have someone there with her. Maggie followed her around, feeling lost. Helen made her a cup of tea and handed it to her. She rinsed Aden’s breakfast dishes in the sink and put them in the dishwasher and made order in the kitchen, while Maggie watched her. Helen opened the fridge, full of untouched casseroles and rotting fruit. She threw most of it away, then made cinnamon toast for Maggie, and went upstairs to make the beds, as Maggie trailed after her, looking embarrassed.
“I’m sorry, everything is such a mess…me mostly.”
“It would be weird if you weren’t,” Helen said softly. “My identical twin sister died of meningitis when we were in college. I was a mess for months.