Here we go again …
“A handsome young man like you should be dating. It’s been almost a year since Kelly died, and—”
“It’s been nine months,” he corrected, “and I’m not ready to date again. I may never be. No one can ever replace Kelly.” He jangled the keys in his hand impatiently. How many times in the past few weeks had he had this same conversation?
“I’m not suggesting anyone replace her. But there are plenty of other women who have merits of their own. There’s a perfectly lovely girl in my office who—”
He huffed a sigh of exasperation. “I can find my own dates, Mom.”
“But you don’t.” She aimed Isabel’s spoon at him to punctuate her point.
“Because I don’t want to date. I told you it’s too soon.”
“A young man like you has … needs. Physical needs that—”
Jared shuddered. “Stop!” He held up a hand and marched quickly to the back door. “Do not go there.”
He was not discussing his sex life with his mother.
“I’m just saying—”
“See you a little after eight, Mom. Good night!” He exited quickly and shook his head as he strolled to his car. He knew his mother meant well, but the idea of dating again stirred a sharp ache in his chest and an uneasy sense of guilt in his gut. Damn, but he missed Kelly so much some days he could barely stand it.
As he cranked his car’s engine, he recalled the new woman who’d visited the grief-support group last week. Elise Norris. Her glossy blonde hair, bright blue eyes and sad smile had filtered through his thoughts at odd moments this past week. While he showered. While he tried to fall asleep. When he woke in the morning.
His pulse kicked up at the prospect of seeing her again tonight, and he frowned to himself. He’d just finished telling his mother that he wasn’t ready to date. So why was he anticipating seeing Elise tonight with schoolboylike nerves?
Okay, yes, they’d had a certain connection in the few moments they’d talked, but that was hardly reason to get all worked up. On the heels of the anxious flutter, cumbersome thoughts of Kelly rose to quash any notion of pursuing his attention to Elise. Just five years ago he’d stood at the altar and promised to forsake all others for Kelly. How could he think of another woman when Kelly hadn’t even been gone for a year?
Raising his daughter had to be his focus now. Not finding a new wife.
Elise had almost made up her mind to skip the next support-group meeting when she remembered the Harrisons. Knowing that they’d also lost a baby made her want to reach out to them. If anyone could understand the hole in her heart, she guessed the young couple could. And maybe she could offer them some support, as well.
By the time she arrived at the meeting, there were only two chairs left vacant in the circle. As Joleen called a greeting to her, Elise headed for the chair closest to her, but before she reached it, one of the older ladies, who’d been getting a cup of coffee, took the seat. Which left one open chair. Next to Jared. She met his gaze as she approached the chair, and he flashed her the lopsided smile that had filled her thoughts throughout the week. Her stomach flip-flopped.
“Welcome back,” he whispered to her as she settled next to him.
The sandalwood scent she remembered from last week filled her nose and stirred a warmth in her chest.
Joleen called the meeting to order and opened the floor to comments and discussion. Throughout the session, Elise tried to focus on what the other members were saying, tried to work up the nerve to share something that might be valuable to the conversation, but she found herself preoccupied with every movement, every sound Jared made. A grunt of sympathy for Mrs. Bagwell. A scratch of his chin. Crossing his arms over his chest. A heavy breath … of fatigue? Boredom?
When he shifted in his chair and her pulse scrambled, she castigated herself mentally for her schoolgirl reaction to him. She couldn’t remember ever being so hyperaware of a man in her life. What was wrong with her? She’d come to the support group for help managing her grief, not to find a boyfriend!
Elise balled her hands in frustration and made a concerted effort to pay attention to what Kim Harrison was saying. The death of this woman’s baby was the primary reason she’d returned to the support group.
“… like Jared said last week. I think a lot about the could-have-beens. What her laugh would have sounded like, what her favorite food would have been, whether she’d have been good at sports.” Kim looked over at Elise then. “Do you ever do that? Think about what your baby might have done, who she’d have been?”
Elise’s breath snagged. “I … yeah. A lot. Almost constantly. When I’m not wondering what went wrong, what I could have done differently during my pregnancy that might have saved her, why this happened to me when she was my one shot at being a mother.”
Mrs. Bagwell frowned. “Why do you think you won’t have other children? You’re still young.”
Elise gripped the edge of her seat, startled by the older woman’s question. Taking a breath for composure, she studied the woman’s face and saw nothing but concern and confusion, not judgment. “Well, the procedure I used to get pregnant with Grace took most of my savings. Since I’m unmarried, not in a relationship and not into one-night stands, the chances of getting pregnant the natural way are pretty nonexistent.”
Mrs. Bagwell seemed unfazed by her bluntness. “I see. I’ve learned, though, never to underestimate the surprises and twists of fate life can hold. Why, by this time next year, you could be happily wed and expecting again.” The older woman punctuated her comment with a satisfied nod and sat back in her chair with a confident smile.
Elise could only gape, speechless.
“I suppose that’s true,” Joleen said. “Holding on to optimism is always a good thing, but let’s look at some ways Elise can deal with the issues she’s facing now. Kim, how do you handle those could-have-been thoughts when you have them?”
Kim glanced at her husband. “I talk about them with Greg. And here, with all of you. That helps. Sometimes I post my feelings to the online message board I’ve mentioned before.” Kim directed her attention to Elise. “I’ll give you the link. It’s another support group I found. A message board for parents who’ve lost children whether to death or kidnapping or divorce. There’s lots of information and links to great resources. You should look into it.”
Elise nodded to Kim. “Thanks. I will.”
The meeting continued, with the discussion turning to Mrs. Fenwick’s late husband, before the group adjourned promptly at the end of the hour. As promised, Kim caught up to Elise by the refreshment table and handed her a scrap of paper with a URL printed neatly in pink ink.
“Here’s the address for the message board. I know an online group seems impersonal, but the people are really helpful and sometimes it is easier to be honest about your feelings when you’re not face-to-face with the people you’re sharing with. You can be as anonymous or open with your identity as you want. I hope you’ll try it.”
Elise tucked the paper in her pocket. “Thanks. I’ll check it out.” She smiled her appreciation. This exchange of information, this opportunity to get to know the Harrisons, was exactly the reason she’d come tonight. Seizing the chance to speak privately with Kim, Elise cleared her throat and asked, “So … if you don’t mind my asking … how did your daughter die?”
“I don’t mind. In fact, I wanted to talk to you about it. Because of how your daughter died and all …” Kim said, leaning toward Elise and placing a hand on her arm.
Elise shook her head. “What does Grace’s death have to do with your baby?”
Kim