She gestured to the string of lights Lance had started unwinding. “Can you hand me that one? And the stapler that’s in the box?”
As he handed them to her, he said, “You want me to do that? I used to always...”
He used to always be the one to hang the lights. And at some point during the process, he’d grumpily tell her that she was using more than she had the previous year and that it was a good thing he loved her. They’d end up laughing and kissing, and even though he hated her decorations, it had made her feel so loved that he’d indulged her anyway.
“I learned how to do it myself,” she said, taking the stapler in one hand and the lights in the other.
The pain in his eyes told her that he remembered their past, too.
Maybe whatever peace he had to make with her would be good for them both. She’d thought she was over him. After all their conversations once they decided to divorce, she’d thought about how good it was that they were divorced because they could never agree on anything.
But the thing was, even when they’d disagreed during their marriage, they’d often found ways to compromise, making sure the other person had what they needed. Somehow they’d lost that.
As Erin attached the lights to the edge of the roof, she wondered how she could convince Lance to understand that selling the house wasn’t about forgetting their daughter. It hadn’t meant anything to him while she was alive, so why did he have to put so much importance on it now?
Sometimes she thought it was his way of punishing her for Lily’s death. He blamed Erin and, based on their conversations since, he still did. Erin had fallen asleep while Lily napped and hadn’t heard Lily wake up. Nor had she heard Lily open the door and go outside. Erin had been so deeply asleep that she hadn’t realized her daughter had drowned in the creek until hours later, after discovering Lily missing. A search party had found the body.
She should have done a better job getting Lily to understand the dangers of playing by the creek. The little girl had been fascinated by the rushing water and went there every chance she got. Erin should have double-checked the lock on the door to make sure it was locked. She should have told Lance she wasn’t feeling well and that was why she hadn’t wanted him going back to work that day, instead of picking a fight with him and complaining that he spent more time at work than with his family. She should have...
Erin wiped a tear from her face. So many should haves, and not one would bring their daughter back. Nor would it bring back the baby she’d been carrying at the time. She hadn’t even had the chance to tell Lance, which was probably a good thing since he’d likely blame her for that loss, as well. More moisture hit her face and she realized it wasn’t tears. The storm forecast to hit tonight was blowing in earlier than expected. Just a few more feet and she’d have this part done.
“Hey,” Lance called up. “It’s starting to snow. Maybe you should save this for another day.”
“I know,” she said. “I just need to finish this section.”
He made a noise like he always did when he was going to argue, but he didn’t say anything.
A few more snowflakes hit her face and a gust of wind blew the string still hanging. If she didn’t get it secured, the storm would likely rip the whole thing off and not only would she have to redo the lights, she’d probably have to buy new ones. They’d made that mistake last year when they started decorating early in the season.
She put an extra couple of staples in the section then climbed down. “Help me move this so I can get the last part.”
Lance made his annoyed noise again. “Why don’t you let me do it?”
Maybe it was petty, but this was typical Lance, not approving of her actions but then stepping in to do it for her to show how magnanimous he was.
“I’ve got it, thanks,” she said, moving the ladder and returning to her position.
“It’ll take you two trips up and down and moving the ladder again. I’ve got a longer reach.”
Technically true. But she was already up.
The first staple went in strong and satisfying. That was the other reason she wanted to do this. Maybe it would help him make peace with the past to see just how much she no longer needed him. As Erin pulled the next section of lights toward her, reaching to where she wanted to place it, her foot slipped. The metal ladder was getting slippery with the snow coming down. She probably should have let Lance do this one. He’d been right about her reach and she wouldn’t risk another trip up and down again.
Maybe if she secured the end instead of leaving it hanging loose, she could come back another day and re-fasten it. She tugged at the end, which had gotten caught on one of the rungs.
“Be careful,” Lance said.
She pulled on the end again, trying to angle it out of where it was caught. Her trick worked, freeing the strand.
She spied one of the hooks they’d used last year to put wooden cutouts on the roof. The cutouts hadn’t lasted beyond the first storm, but this remaining hook was perfect for looping the last of the string and securing it. However, as she reached for it, her foot slipped again. It wasn’t until she was on her way to the ground that she realized just how seriously she’d misjudged the distance.
Her arm holding the stapler hit the ladder and it seemed weird to notice that she was still holding her stapler. Especially since, when she hit the ground, she was pretty sure there were three Lances staring down at her.
Lance had gotten Erin to the hospital as quickly as he could. It was obvious, even without a doctor looking at it, she’d likely broken both her right arm and her left foot. Based on some of the strange things she’d said, he was also pretty sure she had a concussion. As an avid outdoorsman, he was well-versed in first aid.
The boys had brought along some books and games. It was hard watching them interact and wondering if this could have been his life, too. He and Erin had planned on having other children, but they hadn’t been so fortunate, and maybe that was for the best.
Ryan came over and handed him a book. “Will you read to me? I’m bored with coloring.”
The little boy didn’t wait for a response but climbed up into his lap. “You might not be my uncle anymore, but I like you. I hope you do the voices better than Uncle Nando.”
Was it getting warmer in the waiting room? His throat felt like sandpaper as he opened the book and tried to read. How hard was it to say “The Amazing World of Dinosaurs”? But it physically hurt his throat to try.
“You can read, can’t you?” Ryan asked. He pointed to a word. “That one says ‘dinosaur.’ Dylan says I just have it memorized because I read so many dinosaur books. But I actually know how to read. Not all the words, because I haven’t gone to school yet. Just preschool.”
Maybe Lance should have put on one of those masks they offered at the front door to help stop the spread of germs. He was obviously coming down with something.
“I can read. ‘The Amazing World of Dinosaurs,’” Lance said. “But you already know that.”
Ryan rewarded him with a wide grin and snuggled closer. It had been more than two years since Lance had held a child in his arms. He took a deep breath, inhaling the warm little-boy scent that hadn’t changed all that much. Leah still obviously used the same children’s shampoo.
As he started to read, the tightness in Lance’s chest relaxed. He glanced at Dylan, who looked up from his book and smiled.
They hadn’t gotten very far into their book when the nurse came out.
Lance stood. “Is Erin okay? Can we see her?”
The