But she insisted and somehow, I couldn’t insist back. It was nice though, having a cup of tea made for me.

I wish you would bloody come back and make me a cup of tea again.

Love,

Jill

*

Jill still hated how empty the house felt at night. You’d think she would have grown used to it by now, but she hadn’t. However much she told her sons that she was fine, that she was comfortable, happy, safe. She left strategic lights on throughout the house when she went to bed. The one above the stove in the kitchen. The desk lamp in Frank’s study. The mirror light in the main bathroom. They created small glowing pools of warmth throughout her home. Safe harbour.

But it wasn’t the same as having Frank here with her. She hadn’t realised how much safer he’d made her feel, how much she would miss holding his hand. His old, wrinkly hand with the sunspots and the arthritic bumps. She hadn’t realised how much she’d miss the intimacy that came with having a partner. In truth, they were barely having sex anymore — yes, occasionally, but mostly they were too tired and it took too much effort so they’d simply cuddle together at night. And that was enough.

When Frank was here, they would sleep with the windows thrown open throughout summer, catching the cross breeze to cool the house at night. But now she slept with the windows firmly closed and locked.

Pete had actually broached the idea of her moving in with them. She’d seen the panic in Mimi’s eyes when he’d made the suggestion. It wasn’t that they didn’t get along. On the contrary, Jill was happy with the relationship she had cultivated with Mimi. She worked hard to avoid being too overbearing. But it was still an understandable reaction. Having your mother-in-law move in with you was a big deal. And in all honesty, Jill had no interest in moving in with them anyway.

If she lived with them in their home, she would forever feel like the outsider. The interloper in their lives. She would have to fit in with their schedules. Share their meals. After years of having her own space, she simply couldn’t bring herself to start compromising again. Fifteen years she and Frank had been alone together, once all the boys had moved out. Fifteen years of bliss mixed with loneliness. It was funny how much as a parent you both looked forward to the day the last of your children flew the nest and simultaneously dreaded it.

Tony had been the last to move out, even though he was the eldest. But Jill was glad she’d had the extra time with him. She’d needed it.

*

Darren