5. Jude

FIVE

JUDE

A nother beautiful day, another shouting match between my children.

"Get out of the way!"

"I want to play!"

"Move!"

"Ouch!"

I cupped my hands around my mouth, yelling to them, "Hey, stop pushing! Seb, let her play with you. Lulu, you can't stand in front of your brother while he's swinging. You'll get hit."

They ignored me, going back to arguing, but this time quieter. I probably should have marched over to them and broken it up, but kids were like wolves. Sometimes you had to let them fight it out. Figure it out on their own.

It had been a week since my birthday, summer was in full swing, and I was already counting down the days until the kids were back in school. Amelia was headed to kindergarten in the fall. Crazy to think about how fast it all went. And yet, not at all.

It was true what they said. The days are long, but the years are short. Sometimes it felt like yesterday when we'd brought Amelia home in her soft pink muslin blanket. I could still remember how Mira had sat on the couch with Sebastian at her side, both of them staring at the baby in her arms, both of them so in love with the tiny bundle of joy.

I should've taken a photo, captured Sebastian's grin and Mira's watery eyes. I didn't take enough photos.

I regretted that.

I regretted not having more physical reminders of Mira around the house. It wasn't enough, especially for Amelia, who had barely learned to walk before her mother left us.

There wasn't enough time, not for any of us. But I'd never give up what I'd had, what we'd all had. Because while it wasn't perfect, it was beautiful. Every new day with Mira had been better than the last. She'd made me a better person. A better husband. A better father.

And since she'd died, it'd been a daily struggle. Getting out of bed eventually became easier, but the second-guessing never did. Neither did the pain of the yawning hole in my heart

At a shriek, I glanced up from my phone, finding Sebastian chasing Amelia, though for fun. I grinned when he gently tackled her, and she giggled, kicking her feet. Seb rolled over, allowing her up, only so he could chase her again. See? Sometimes they loved each other.

I filmed a video of them running around the yard and texted it to my family's group thread because now I took photos and videos. After responding to my mother's message about making sure they had on sunscreen and Youmna's series of emojis, I opened the dating app to scroll through the profiles of the women I'd matched with.

I had noticed Natalie's message last night. A simple Hey! How are you?

It should've been easy. All I had to say was I'm good. How are you?

And yet …

I scratched at my beard, feeling not for the first or even fifteenth time since creating a profile for this app that I was betraying Mira. She was more than my first and only love. She was also the first and only woman I'd ever dated. Hell, she was the first and only woman I'd ever had sex with.

I knew nothing except Mira.

I wasn't sure how to do the whole dating thing, but I was tired of keeping warm with only my memories. Even in my loneliest moments, when I fell down the rabbit hole of Mira's shy smile, the dip of her waist, her little outie belly button, the heat and smell of her skin, it was impossible to ignore how my body responded. While my heart wasn't necessarily ready for sex, my dick sure as hell was.

And I couldn't avoid the clawing need building inside me.

My mind drifted back to Brooke's words as we'd helped each other create our profiles. "It doesn't have to be forever, Jude. It can be for right now. And if it's not right, you can always say no. You can always stop." When I'd started to protest, she had held up her hand. "If your goal is to have fun, then that's what it should be."

She was so earnest, as always. Only wanting the best for me.

In the middle of my meditation on my past and what my future might look like, my kids raced up, hungry for lunch. Amelia was currently obsessed with Cinnamon Toast Crunch and ate it for almost every meal, but Sebastian was satisfied with microwavable pizza. As the kids argued over what to watch on the iPad, I helped myself to a premade bagged salad because, apparently, I needed to eat vegetables.

"Hey," I said, tapping my hand on the table. "As soon as you're finished eating, you're plugging that back in and doing something that doesn't melt your brains."

They both nodded and proceeded to eat very slowly.

I stuffed my mouth with the flavorless green stuff, letting my gaze wander over the brown cabinets and old wallpaper. This house was supposed to be a starter home for us. Mira and I had barely begun to look for a bigger place, talking about what our dream house might look like, when she'd passed. She had wanted open cabinetry and a bigger kitchen. I wanted a finished basement with a sectional. We both wanted a bedroom big enough for a king-sized bed. As much as we both loved to cuddle, neither one of us liked to be squeezed together while we slept. And, of course, we wanted room for the kids to grow. We'd even talked about having a third.

On occasion, I'd considered selling this small Cape Cod with gray siding and a kitchen straight out of some '90s family sitcom, but I didn't know what was worse, living with the ghost of my wife in the walls or starting somewhere new with no evidence of her at all.

Neither choice seemed like the right one.

After I cleaned up lunch, Amelia settled with a coloring book, while Sebastian flopped on the couch to play a video game, leaving me some time to work. I passed through the living room and tapped on the corner of the big photo in the hall out of habit. It was the last picture of all four of us. From the day Mira died.

It was four years ago, an early spring day. While I'd played all kinds of sports growing up, I wasn't really good at any one of them and did it more for the social aspect than any real hope of being an all-star. Mira, though, she was an athlete and participated in multiple track events. Secured a full-ride scholarship to college and everything. She was fast, despite being relatively shorter than the women she competed against. She made up for her smaller strides with pure power. Her relay team even won a national title.

We hadn't attended the same university, but I'd gone to as many events as possible. It had been my absolute pleasure to follow her anywhere and everywhere, including through her training for the Olympic trials. Unfortunately, she didn't make the team and was crushed, but I had been so goddamn proud of her. I could never be anything less.

We'd ended up marrying after that, with Nate as my best man and bought this house. Sebastian had arrived after our second anniversary, and Amelia four years after that. We had been happy.

Mira had continued to run for fun, mostly charity 5Ks. That day , the kids and I had waited at the finish line with a sign Sebastian had made, and I'd asked someone to take our picture. Mira, grinning and flushed, held fourteen-month-old Amelia in her arms while Sebastian showed off his sign to the camera. I stood in the back, my arms around them all, a cheesy smile on my face.

Later at home, Mira had complained of a headache, but it hadn't been anything out of the ordinary. She'd popped a few pills, showered, and relaxed with the kids, but when the headache didn't go away, I'd told her to go upstairs and lie down while I ordered dinner. It was tradition to order Chinese from our favorite spot after every race.

As I'd sorted through the bags, I asked Sebastian to wake up his mom.

I'll never forget the way he ran into the kitchen, pure terror in his eyes, crying because he couldn't wake Mira up. When I'd checked on her, she'd remained unresponsive, and I'd immediately called 9-1-1. I'd known it was hopeless, but I'd refused to believe it was true. That my beautiful and vibrant thirty-year-old wife was gone. Stolen from us by a brain aneurysm.

My world had collapsed in an instant. We'd had so much life ahead of us, so many dreams, and they were all shattered. I hadn't known how to go about picking up the pieces of my life, let alone for a confused and frightened five-year-old and a toddler who would never remember her mother.

With the help of Mira's and my family and a lot of therapy, I'd managed. But it was difficult. I cried in private and attempted to carry on for the kids as normal, though I wasn't sure what normal even meant anymore. Sebastian had slept in my bed countless nights, afraid something would happen again. Sleep continued to be an issue for him. And poor little Lulu, she only wanted a family, a whole family, not one led by a heartbroken single dad.

With a sigh, I powered on my laptop and got to work, paying bills and finishing up last month's accounting for Gray's Candy Shop. My grandfather had opened the corner store in the fifties, and it had been in our family ever since. I loved the store, loved what it provided for all of us and the community, but I didn't spend a whole lot of time in the actual shop. When I'd graduated from college with a double major in business and finance, I'd come back home with plans to expand, which I'd done, by building an online store that delivered out of state, becoming a recurrent participant in the farmers market, and establishing a school fundraising program. I could accomplish all that behind-the-scenes stuff at home, which was great because I could align my schedule around my kids' needs.

Though recently, I'd been wondering if I'd been scheduling myself too much around the kids.

Hence this ridiculous plan to start dating again.

I closed my laptop and stretched my back, checking the time. It was almost four, and Brooke should be finishing up her work for the day. She was an early riser, to get out on her farm with the sun. I didn't know how she did it. Plus, she almost never touched her phone while she worked, which was why I was surprised when my cell phone beeped with a text message alert from her.

Brooke

Got a date for tomorrow!

That was fast.

Brooke

It's my charm.

I assumed she was getting all kinds of hits from men liking her profile picture. I'd told her to use the photo from her sister's shower because she'd been wearing a dark red dress the color of licorice with sleeves that fluttered around her shoulders and a little bow that tied at her waist. She was girl-next-door pretty. The kind of beauty that soothed instead of intimidated. She had that endearing crooked smile with lines outside of her mouth and at the corners of her eyes to prove how often she graced the world with it. Then, of course, there was her charm. She was energetic and ambitious and one of the most thoughtful people I'd ever met. The total package. Any guy would be lucky to have her.

So, it was a shame what her ex had done to her. Not only had he left her at the worst possible time, he'd made her think she was somehow less because of her infertility. I knew how long it had taken her to recover. As long as I'd been mourning Mira.

It was part of the reason why we were such good friends; we'd both gone through really traumatic events at about the same time. And I hoped she found all she desired from this silly experiment of ours.

Brooke

Can you come over tomorrow to help me pick out something to wear?

You want ME to pick out clothes for YOU?

Shouldn't that be a job for your sisters or something?

Brooke

Kim can't because Henry's going out with a buddy, so she's home alone with the baby, and Sabrina has some last-minute school stuff she's got to deal with.

Brooke

So it's on you, my friend.

Brooke

Also

Brooke

You're a dude, and I need a dude's opinion on the best first-impression outfit.

I'm pretty sure anything but your overalls will do.

She sent me a bunch of shocked-face emojis.

Brooke

I thought you liked my overalls.

I do, but dudes won't.

Brooke

Fair point. See you at 6 tomorrow!

Suddenly feeling anxious, I paced the room, flipping my cell phone over and over in my palm, needing to move, rid myself of the unusual tightness in my chest. I completed three laps before thumbing to the dating app, scrolling to Natalie's message. Hey! How are you?

If Brooke could do it, I could too.

I rubbed the tips of my fingers together, as if that would spark something, then typed out a reply. I'm good. How are you doing?

She replied immediately. I'm good! Happy it's finally Friday tomorrow. Do you have any fun plans for the weekend?

Fun plans? My weekends were usually playing referee for my kids, eating junk food, and falling asleep during some movie Seb or Lulu put on.

Not much going on here , I responded. What about you?

I completed another lap. This wasn't so bad. Having a regular conversation. No big deal.

I was thinking about going to a winery with some friends.

I tapped out a reply before I'd even really thought about it. That's cool. I'm not really a wine guy. I like beer.

I froze and choked out a huff, lifting my attention to the window in front of me, my eyes unseeing as the words of my message hit me. "That's cool?" I repeated, frowning at the wall. "I like beer?"

Had I always been so awkward?

"Dad!" Amelia called, and I shoved my cell phone into my pocket.

I'd have to get back to that mess later.

Or not at all.