But I said it out loud, and that made it real.
—
Ruth came three times a week.
She brought food, held the baby, and did the dishes without being asked.
We didn’t talk about Mark’s secret again for a long time.
We didn’t need to.
We were both living inside the consequences of it, and that was enough.
One afternoon she was washing up at the sink and I was feeding Josephine on the sofa, and she said, without turning around:
“He talked about you, you know.
All the time.
Even at the end.
He said you were the best decision he ever made.”
I looked at the back of her head.
“He made some bad decisions,” I said.
“Yes.” She kept washing.
“He did.
But not that one.”
I didn’t answer.
But I held Josephine a little closer, and I didn’t argue.
—
I called Diane on a Thursday afternoon in January.
