I was not Mickey’s wife but that didn’t mean I couldn’t help. And when I’d offered, I knew the extent of his gratitude just with the way he looked at me.

So I was on it, and although it was a slow process, I was getting there.

But at that moment, in the doldrums, I didn’t think I had the brain capacity.

These were my mental meanderings when my phone rang.

It was Mickey.

“Hey,” I greeted.

“Hey back,” he replied. “Listen, babe, Ash’s plans changed. She’s home tonight. Thought you could come over for dinner.”

To my surprise, I didn’t like this idea.

If it was just Mickey, I’d take time with Mickey. I’d be with Mickey anytime I could.

Except right then, with Ash.

It was nothing against Ash. It was just that I felt I had to be upbeat around her, keeping things light, keeping myself open should she wish to bond or unload or anything with me. She hadn’t been back at Mickey’s house long enough for Mickey to have another try at a sit down so it wasn’t that.

It was that both of us moping I didn’t think would be a good thing. I knew I didn’t have it in me to be upbeat. And Ash was such a concern I didn’t want to introduce any kind of bad mood that she might catch, making her even worse.

“Why don’t you have some time with Ash, Mickey? I’ll stay home and let you have that.”

There was a moment of silence before, “You okay?”

“Not really,” I told him.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Conrad called this morning. He was a dick to me, but reading between the lines, something’s up with him and Martine and he’s taking that out on me,” I told him.

“Fuck,” he growled.

“More importantly, Mrs. McMurphy died last night.”

“Babe,” he whispered.

Then it happened. Like it had happened the time I talked to him when my kids came back to me.

And as a repeat, my sob was audible.

Mickey heard it. “Amy, baby.”

“I haven’t cried yet,” I sniffed.

“Have at it, then,” he offered.

It was a lovely offer, so very Mickey, but I didn’t “have at it.”

I wiped my face, took a deep breath and said, “Maybe it’s good that tonight I just hang at home, watch a movie…”

I trailed off, thinking of myself clutching Mrs. McMurphy’s umbrella and watching Cocoon.

Maybe I should mope with Ash at Mickey’s.

Mickey spoke my thoughts. “Not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I won’t be good company, Mickey. I’ll be okay and I’ll come over another night.”

“Amy—”

“I’ll be okay.”

He didn’t respond immediately and when he did, it was, “Hang on.”

I hung on.