 
Merry Widower

Phil Wohl

Funerals are like real slow rounds of golf: both of them make you wish that you could be somewhere, anywhere, else. On this day, Wesley Roundtree would have preferred standing on the tee box waiting for the aged group in front of him to clear his path so he could hit the shit out of the small white ball on a tee 300 yards into the greenery in oblivion. Instead, he was standing over the grave of his late wife waiting for the religious officiator to stop talking.

He talks out loud, although no one hears his words.

"Why do people you talk to for five minutes think they everything about your life?"

Wes looks at the Rabbi and says, "This fuckin' guy has sex with my mother-in-law on the regular. "Why is it that assholes get to live and really good people don't?" He looks into the abyss of the ground and realizes that his life would drastically change once he returned home.

"And let us all say, amen," Rabbi Aaronson said and Wes echoed that sentiment that the stupid, hypocritical mother fucker would finally shut the fuck up. To say that his faith had been shaken to the core would have been a blatant understatement.

People were gathering at Marlene Katz's house on the request of his son-in-law, who became nauseous at the thought of people walking around his house and grading the quality of his Shiva food spread. He knew that Marlene would get off on the fact that she would both put out a killer spread and then spread wide for the rabbi downstairs in their wine cellar, which also doubled as a cedar closet.

Growing up in the town he was raised had its advantages but living in relative obscurity was not on the menu.

"Do you realize how much pussy you can pull down in this place?" best friend and frustrated married man, Brandon Childs, said to Wes as they sat in the pool area alone. It was the first day of spring and the pool was still covered and was a few months away from being in full use. Wes thought it was a good thing that he didn't listen to his mother-in-law and buy the house around the corner, preferring to be at least 20 minutes away from Medusa's immobilizing reach.

Just then, Wes's five-year-old son came running out the back door and eventually jumped into his lap, hugging him tight like he hadn't seen him in days. Little Xavier knew that something was wrong and his father was hurting.

Xavier looked over his father's shoulder and said, "Hi, Uncle Brando."

Brandon was saddened at the sight of this fragile being in a moment of vulnerability, "What's up, X-Man?"

A Shiva house was no place for little kid, so Wes sought to change the arc of the day, "Okay X, let's blow this popsicle stand and go get some Ice cream."

Xavier had never seen a popsicle stand, but it sounded like something he would enjoy. He clung to his father as he bumped fists with Brandon, as Wes and Brandon kissed on the check and bumped together.

"Why do you guys kiss?" Xavier asked.

Wes looked his son square in the eyes and replied, "Because we're boys, we're best friends and that's what best friends do."

Brandon had a tear in his eye as he and Wes looked at each other. Wes conveying through his eyes that everything was going to be okay. Brandon nodded in understanding, although he wasn't so sure of it at the time.

"See you when we see you, broheim," Wes said as he carried his son out of the side gate while his mother-in-law watched the three guys jettison from her house. She wondered if anything could ever be the same now that her daughter had left the planet, but selfishly was going to push for whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it.

Next Day

There wasn't time for Wes to drift off into his own little world since his son had to go to pre-school the next day. Wes thought it would be damaging to pull Xavier from the one thing that kept him anchored in life and provided normalcy amidst radical change.

"You ready for school, buddy?"

Xavier looked tired but not tired enough to miss school. Wes had been up for two hours, as his sleep still being disrupted by previous patient-care habits. This gave him time to complete his new-found regiment of yoga, meditation and cardio, all in the calm of his basement.

"Yes, let's go!"

They now walked to school, being that the weather was warm enough to support such actions. It also didn't hurt that their house was virtually around the corner elementary school, which was even closer to the house that Wes grew up in. Xavier's grandmother lived in Florida and had come up for the funeral but not anything after that. She had become somewhat of a recluse following the death of her husband two years earlier. It had been a double blow to Wes to lose his father and wife in only a two-year span: one from a massive coronary at 70 and the other to ovarian cancer at the age of 38.

Wes felt different talking his son to school on this day than any other day that preceded it in the current school year. He was now a widower instead of being a husband who was taking care of his sick wife. Not only was his personal life undergoing a massive shift, but his professional life was in the midst of a transformation as well. Wes was so distraught that he considered leaving his current company, where he was a Vice President and Chief Content Manager of a financial firm. But, a conversation with his CEO and boss, Ross Meyer, changed the arc of his life one quiet afternoon when his wife was sleeping only a week before she passed away.

Wes was in the fenced-in backyard trying to get a few breaths of fresh air while Xavier was at school. Meyer had been to the house before for a barbeque a few summers earlier in better days and opened the back gate. He walked on the stones paving the back entrance and made it to the patio before Wes noticed that his boss had traveled from Manhattan to Long Island to see him.

"Ross," a surprised but pleased Wes said when he saw the 6'3" man walking toward him. He had spent so much time alone with his thoughts that it was started to wear on him. Wes stood up, unfurling his 6'6" frame of mostly legs and shook hands and hugged his boss, who also broke any corporate edicts by hugging back.

"You look like shit," Ross said.

Wes hadn't completely lost his sense of humor in the face of impending doom, "You should see the other guy."

Instead of sitting on chairs they sat on the stoop next to each other looking out over the gently swaying trees.

"Thanks for coming to see me," Wes said trying to break the ice and let his guard down.

"I wish it was my pleasure," Ross replied. "I am here to help you in any way I can, whether in a professional or personal capacity."

Wes was predictably quiet, his nature being that he would never give up.

"I will happily accept that poorly-written letter of resignation you sent me, but I wanted to hear me out first," Ross kidded but was quite serious.

Wes nodded his head in agreement and stated, "I just don't think I can schlep into the city anymore and leave my son behind. I'm all he's got."

Ross patted Wes's back as Wes dropped his head.

"I agree," Ross stated, much to his star writer's surprise.

"You do?" Wes asked.

"We would be paralyzed without you, but do you remember what happened when my first wife died?" Ross asked.

Wes thought about it and replied, "I was only with the company for a few months when that happened. There were rumors that you were going to walk away."

"I was going to walk away, but do you remember what I told you a year ago?"

"It's going to get worse before it gets better," Wes recited.

"Exactly. And it did get worse, didn't it?" Ross stated.

Wes nodded.

Ross nodded, "And now I'm here to tell you that it's gonna' get better. Each day you wake up, it will get better. It will never be perfect, but it will be better."

Wes didn't react, because he didn't know how to react with his wife's health declining so dramatically that she was now on death's doorstep.

"With that in mind, I want you to listen to what I have to say and then agree to it without debate," Ross said.

Wes had no paternal figure in his life, so he was relieved to have someone counsel him in his darkness.

"Okay," Wes replied, surrendering to a person who had only his best interests over the past decade.

"We're gonna' bring the office to you," Ross simply stated and Wes nodded his head since it made complete sense. He had been wondering for months what he would do with his life post-death and could only come up with being a schoolteacher and coaching basketball at his high school, which would have afforded him the opportunity to coach his son one day. And while it sounded good on paper, it was the path of a broken man, not one who had ascended to the top of his profession. The new information felt right.

"Take a week, a month, whatever you need," Ross said. "None of that is important."

"Thanks," Wes replied as he rested his heavy head on his boss's shoulder.

"I'm here if you need anything," Ross said as Wes closed his eyes.

They hugged again and Ross disappeared as he closed the fence and Wes walked back inside after he took a deep breath.

In the days leading up to Lena's death, Wes thought about many things and shared them with his wife. She was especially clear two days before she died, so they talked about many things.

"You have to get married again," Lena said.

"Do I have to?" Wes replied.

"Only if you find someone as cool as me. Otherwise, you can just fuck around and be casual," she suggested. "It's not going to be easy to find a woman who can deal with my mother."

"Agreed," Wes said.

"Are you still planning to get your master's in education and coach your high school's team?" she asked and then quickly followed it up, "because that sounds like everything you wanted to avoid in life. Did I hear Ross in the backyard the other day, or was I just dreaming it?"

"No, that was Ross," Wes replied. "He wants to bring the office to me since I'm not going to leave Xavier behind by commuting into the city."

"Well, you've been talking for years about how useless it is to go into the office and how it would make sense for more people to work from home."

"True," Wes replied.

"You should make your office in the den," Lena said. "There's a lot of natural light there and you can be in the same room as Xavier when he's home instead of you both being in separate rooms by yourself."

Wes nodded, "Do you have any other thoughts?"

"Be happy," she said simply.

He closed his eyes and gently placed his forehead against hers.

"I will do my best, my love."

"Just don't ever put your dick into that wretched Candace. I'm sure she will be the first lined up to get a crack at you. That whore's probably waiting outside right now, like she's squatting to get concert tickets."

The two shared a laugh before Lena ascension into the next world hours later.

Down by the Schoolyard

Things had changed since the previous Thursday when Wes dropped Xavier off at school less than an hour after Lena died. His mother-in-law Marlene arrived and he said, "I'm going to drop Xavier off at school. I don't want him seeing her carted out in a body bag. I've alerted Hospice and they called the coroner, so it will probably take them an hour to arrive.

Marlene was in listen-only mode for a change. Wes had already said his goodbyes to his wife when she was conscious, and he kissed her on the forehead when her chest finally stop ventilating, "Go in peace, my love," he said. "I will see you again."

And while Wes was gone, Marlene sat on her daughter's hospital-style bed that was brought in by Hospice the previous week and held her hand while thinking about crying. She actually didn't shed a tear throughout the entire cancer ordeal, and then remained dry during the funeral as well.

The walk to school on that Thursday was okay for Wes – he dropped Xavier off, talked to no one and then started the long walk home alone for the first time. The reality of officially being a widower sank in on the two block walk back to his house, which took all of 10 minutes but felt like 10 hours.

It was Monday morning and Wes held his son's hand, much in the same way he did every other day that year. Xavier wasn't affectionate with anyone else but his father, his relationship effectively severed the day his mother was diagnosed with cancer. Although he never knew what was going on and probably wouldn't have understood even if it was explained to him, he knew something was wrong and clung to the only thing that never varied.

As they approached the school, Wes felt the heat of the other mothers like never before. Now that he was both mother and father, the presence of excess attention was even more apparent. He had transitioned from poor husband with a sick wife to widower, which meant he was now fair game. The atmosphere down by the schoolyard was similar to that of the jungle, where it appeared that the predators were hungry and Wes was now the catch of the day.

Wes kissed his son on the cheek and Xavier was off, running into the classroom like he was shot out of a cannon filled with sprinkles. And, as Wes turned, Miss McMurtry stopped him by wrapped her fingers around his arm like a cobra making initial contact with its prey. He was initially startled by the breach of his space.

"Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Roundtree," the 20-something teacher said as she rested her palm against his shoulder.

The sight of the perky teacher touching Wes sent shudders down the spines of group of women that were tracking Wes. It was game now game on.

"That's okay," Wes replied. "Sorry I jumped, but I haven't had much sleep."

She smiled and nodded, "We are a family here, and if you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask."

While he heard her kind words, Wes also was able to see down her blouse, being that she was considerable shorter than him and had also taken the liberty of unbuttoning enough buttons so he would be able to understand her intentions.

"Thanks, he replied. "I'll let you know."

Miss McMurtry smiled and then glared over at the bitches 10 years her senior, spun around, buttoned back up, reached into her breast pocket and then put her glasses back on, transitioned from tawdry slut to conservative kindergarten teacher. Hands were all over Wes the next few minutes, and all the women had to offer, "We're here if you need anything," and "I make a killer lasagna," which was code for "I can get freaky if that's what you like."

This was a critical juncture in the lifecycle of married couples. With the engagement, wedding and birthing out of the way, there was little excitement remaining in most marriages and that was why it was such a vulnerable jumping-off point. Many divorces occurred by the age of 40 due to the anger that most women felt in giving up their lives for the false promise of status and satisfaction. And that anger only snowballed over time the longer they ruminated about the betrayal and the pile of shit they were sold since birth.

So, when a previously unavailable commodity reentered the market, regardless of his looks or bank account (but that didn't hurt), it bore further investigation. And that investigation was centered round whether the man was a good candidate to hop from the current situation, which was cutting off their oxygen, to something else that would at least give them a couple of good years before deteriorating.

"We should get the kids together after school," Marsha Bloom said to Wes before he exited the schoolyard.

Wes thought about Marsha's kid, Riley Bloom, and didn't really have any major objections.

"Okay," was all he said before walking away and back home, where he had some work to do in rearranging his house.

Change is Good

Clearing out his wife's clothes and associated stuff was a difficult, yet healthy, task, and he was surprised how quickly he was able to gather the stuff in garbage bags. We knew that Marlene would be coming over because he could feel her manic presence enter his orbit. She had a morbid obsession with things and didn't want anything donated. Wes kept some of her jewelry – including her engagement and wedding rings and anything else he had bought her – and also retained a bin of pictures that he thought could prove valuable one day if Xavier had questions when he matured.

Marlene came over and was colder than usual, "Where is it?" she asked as she moved through the house and took inventory on anything she thought she could possess.

There were many, "Do you want this?" and "I bought this for you," hints and Wes was happy to give most things to the gluttonous sea witch so she would stop lurking and just go away. He had an honest assessment only hours after the funeral, "I never cared much for the way she decorated." Of course, he kept this observation inside to avoid conflict.

Marlene had a worker she knew drive a truck over with a few guys, who would list English as a second language, and they loaded clothing, tables and pictures off the walls until the 18-foot truck was filled to capacity. Once she cleared the driveway in her Mercedes SUV, Wes looked around at his bare white walls and thought it would be a good time to consider adding some color to his life. So, he drove over to Home Depot and camped out in the paint department, because sitting in that house by himself was one of the last thing he wanted to do at that moment.

The breadth of hues was breathtaking, coloring his previously bland world and brightening what was proving to be continued darkness in his life. With a lack of background in painting, Wes decided to seek the counsel of the person working in the paint area once he was finished mixing his current concoction.

"Hello, what can I help you with today?" the middle-aged gentlemen with plenty of road miles asked Wes.

"I would like to repaint some of the rooms in my house," Wes began, "well, probably all of the rooms in my house."

"Excellent," Carl replied. "What are the colors of the walls right now?"

"They are all white," Wes informed.

"Okay, so how long has this paint been up?'

He and his wife had all the walls painted before they moved in, "About six years."

"So, you probably don't need to use primer," Carl replied and Wes didn't reply, which informed the home improvement professional of his next step. "I would recommend that you either gather a bunch of paint card colors and place them on the wall and/or take small samples of paint and put them on the wall."

Wes was the kind of person who liked to start a project and then keep going to completion, so putting a small amount of paint on the wall and then waiting to decide was not going to happen.

"I think I'll gather some paint chips and put them in the rooms."

"Good. That will give you the ability to look at the colors in different light during various times of the day," Carl stated.

"Can you recommend a brand of paint to use?" Wes asked.

They walked over to the paint color displays and Carl detailed the various levels of paint quality, "You probably need two coats for these three, but only one coat for this Ralph Lauren paint."

Wes wanted to do the job right and fully in one stroke, so he said, "I think I'll focus on this paint," Wes stated as he moved closer to the Ralph Lauren paint. Thanks," Wes said as he looked over his shoulder and saw another person waiting for Carl.

"Okay, good luck. We'll mix any color you want and get you the supplies you need to finish the job."

Wes nodded and turned toward the board of color and started pulling colored chips out of their slots, stopping to read the name of colors that would influence his decision to use or discard. He was attractive to colors such as Chesapeake Sunset, which had an orange-yellow hue and Southampton Blue, which made him feel relaxed at the sight of this medium blue color. Wes also grabbed a bunch of colors for Xavier's room and would let the little guy decide on the color and then help him paint his own room.

Snowing in Spring

Wes was thankful that kindergarten had been extended to full days from half days, even though he loved his son and wanted to fully nurture him. He walked around his house and put paint chips on the wall, first placing the Chesapeake Sunset in the living room and then the Southampton Blue in his bedroom. Wes then put a bunch of other colors, from purple to blue to green in Xavier's room and had aa good idea what his son would select before he walked out of the door to pick him up at school.

By the time Wes arrived at the back of the school, which was adjacent to the playground, word had spread amongst the yentas that Marsha had landed the first claw on Wes and was bringing her daughter Riley over for a playdate after school. There was obvious jealousy and envy, but not a complete feeling of surrender to be found.

The kids ran out of the school, Xavier smiling when he saw his father and he high-fived him before dropping his backpack and running to the playground with his classmates. And before Marsha could make her way toward Wes and secure additional playtime, two other women walked over in tandem as Wes picked up his son's small backpack.

"Whoa!" Wes exclaimed as he didn't expect people to be in front of him.

"Hi, Wes!" perky Allison Ellis exclaimed.

"Hey, Allison. What's happening?" he replied, as the familiarity of them growing up in the neighborhood together came through, even though she had largely ignored him for years until he became the big man on campus in his last two years of high school. Wes had not forgotten her snow job back then and didn't really have the desire or patience to entertain her band standing again.

"Well, our husbands are working late tonight. Would you want to get together and get some pizza for the kids?" Allison stated, nodding at her best friend Becky Young in the process.

"I have plans with Xavier tonight, but your welcome to come over for a snack with Marsha and Riley," Wes replied, not wanting to get overwhelmed with chatter in a period of transition from being sequestered to reentering public life. Marsha heard the invitation and was initially disappointed in having to share, but she went anyway.

Xavier was happy that his friends were going to continue the day-long party in his backyard. The kids would be together for two years of pre-school before entering first grade, which meant the parents would also be connected at the hip for at least that time period.

The weather had cooperated to the point that the kids could run around in the backyard with minimal layers on. This helped the parents relax to the point they were barely watching the kids in the fenced-in backyard. Wes walked inside to get some snacks and Marsha shadowed him the moment he made the move to stand up and walk toward the back door, which was adjacent to the kitchen. But, before he rustled up some snacks, Wes thought he sneaked away to the bathroom. He took care of his liquid business and then took some cool water and splashed it on his face, the events of recent days making him feel as if he was having an out-of-body experience. There were many night that he had to virtually carry Lena to the bathroom in the days preceding Hospice taking over. It wasn't easy but he felt like it had to be done.

We exited his bathroom and was about to head back to the kitchen until Marsha entered the room and impeded his progress.

"Oh, there you are!" Marsha gushed as if she had run into a long-lost friend.

Wes was comforted by her familiarity with him, even though they weren't close, and she had barely paid any attention to him before then.

"How is everything going?" she asked as she rested her right palm on the middle of his arm.

We nodded but said nothing in response. Words could not do justice to what he was really thinking, and he felt as if the outside world couldn't appreciate his plight. She then tried to win the sympathy vote, "My mom went through some hard days after my father died a few years ago."

Wes didn't know what planet he was on, let alone what the fuck this woman was talking about.

"Daddy!" Xavier yelled from the backyard as Wes exited the room after saying, Excuse me."

Marsha looked around the room and thought what she could do to enhance the space. And then she walked into the kitchen to fetch some snacks, but one of her female counterparts had beaten her to the punch. One of the other women said to Xavier, "Have you seen your father?" knowing that Marsha had probably cornered him.

Xavier already had separation issues and he panicked. His fears were quickly allayed when he saw his father walking out of the back door. Xavier smiled and Wes smiled back and nodded at him, so he wouldn't embarrass him by asking if everything was all right. But they both weren't all right and Wes was going to put an end to the circus of the after-school community playdate. He wouldn't even let the women back into his house 20 minutes later when it was time to go, ushering them out of the side gate and thanking them for coming over. The sanctity of Wes and Xavier's space had been breached and Wes made sure that they had the proper time to rest and heal.

They both stood in the backyard watching the gate close.

"That was weird," Xavier said.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Wes agreed. "Hey, wouldn't this be a great space for a basketball court?"

Xavier looked up at his father and beamed as he jumped into his arms and hugged him like a chimpanzee.

"I'm also going to be working from home. No more traveling into the city," We stated.

Xavier simply nodded and replied, "I like that."

"I knew you would," Wes said as he walked up the stairs and into the house with his second skin in tow.

Changes

It was the first time that Xavier was in his room since returning home from school, so he was surprised to see the paint chips on the wall next to his bed when he dumped his backpack on the floor.

"Cooool!" he exclaimed and Wes popped into his room. "Are you going to repaint my room?"

"I thought we could do it after you pick a color," Wes replied.

Xavier's eyes lit up like up like the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree as he surveyed the five colors that were taped to the white wall.

"I like this one," Xavier stated as he pointed to the deep orange chip. "It looks like a pumpkin."

Then he hesitated and added, "But I like this one, too," he said, pointing to the royal blue chip.

Wes knew his son would like more than one of the colors, so he was prepared with an answer.

"We could use both, painting either orange with a blue stripe or blue with an orange stripe."

Xavier thought about it for a few moments, looking at the wall and then the paint chips like he was deciding the fate of the free world.

"Blue with orange stripe. Like the Islanders uniform," the boy replied, referring to the New York Islanders hockey jersey, which he quickly found and put over his t-shirt.

"We can do that," Wes replied. "We should go get some supplies, including paint and brushes this weekend."

Xavier beamed, "Fun!"

That wasn't the only changes going on in the Roundtree household. To create a new-age office, Wes took advantage of the extensive skylight he already had in his den and overlaid it with translucent navy blue solar panels that not only generated enough power for the entire house, it also created a relaxing blue hue in the room. Office renovations were also ongoing, as a concealed flat-panel display was also installed so Wes could conduct Skype calls with his extensive staff. And while all of this was ongoing, the construction guys were redoing the one-third-acre backyard – a full basketball court with a glass backboard goal on the right side, a larger barbeque area and patio leading off the steps in the middle and a full green section on the left side in which Wes could further cultivate his garden.

The other thing that was in development was adding to the family in terms of a dog. While Xavier never asked for a pet, it was Wes who was feeling the need for a companion when his son was at school all day. The house was too quiet, but Wes wanted to time it just right. He had grown up with Weimaraner's and knew that the only way to effectively deal with that bread to spend as much time with it as possible. In essence, the dog would become his companion.

"Are you trying to replace your wife with the dog?" Nancy Hollins asked Wes in what amounted to their last therapy session, a post-death follow up.

Wes thought about it and replied, "Can't replace Lena, but the quiet is starting to get to me. I also think that it's good for a kid to have and take care of a pet. It helped me when I was growing up."

Hollins appeared to off her game, deep in some sort of daydream. Following a brief pause, Wes wondered what was distracting the woman who had helped him through some tough times.

"Are you okay, doc?" he asked.

It appeared that the good doctor was able to keep her professionalism and support Wes, Lena and Xavier through the past six months, but something changed when she saw Wes for the first time since Lena passed. She broke protocol when she hugged him and offered her condolences, being swayed by the multitude of his scent. While it was hard for her to imagine Wes as a sexual object when he was in a caretaking capacity, there was something about the fresh scent of a newly minted widower that was intoxicating.

She shook off the cob-webs of an unconstrained and passionate affair and replied, "I'm sorry. I was just thinking about you tearing my clothes off and taking me right here on my oriental rug." And then she snapped out of her trance and actually responded to him, "I think you should do what makes you comfortable and happy. You have been through enough."

The talked for another 10 minutes and then said goodbye, the doctor again moving in for a hug.

"Call me if you need anything," Dr. Hollins said as he eyes rolled back in her head at the thought of slipping out of her professional demeanor for once.

"Okay," Wes replied. And while he was initially comforted by the hug, the lingering nature of her grip started to make him feel uncomfortable and aroused at the same time. It had only been a few weeks since she died and sexual thoughts had been dormant for quite some time. If it had been a few months hence, something might have gone down. The doctor had been separated from her husband of 10 years and their divorce would be finalized in the coming days. It was a bit of a knee-jerk reaction by her to think ahead, but she was looking to venture past her vibrator for the touch of a real man.

He then pushed it down the road a bit, "I'm throwing a birthday party for Xavier in a few months if you're interested," as they physically separated.

She smiled, "I would like that."

"And you can contact me if you need to talk as well," Wes said, knowing she was going through a divorce after her husband had cheated on her repeatedly.

The potential for both of them being on the rebound was strong, so the next people in front of them would likely be experimentation and necessary collateral damage.

Color My World

Wes was at Home Depot the following day, as he wanted to paint his room and the other rooms before he tackled Xavier's room with him. He was going on the guise that practice was a good thing and he would get better at it with each room, so he started in his room with the soothing Southampton Blue color.

"Make sure you tape every place you don't want to paint," Wes's new buddy Carl suggested.

Wes was having troubling visualizing what that would like, "Can you show me?"

Carl took a roll of blue masking tape and led Wes over to a sconce, "Put the tape over place like this both high and low for a cleaner look. Otherwise the blue paint will bleed over the white sconces and baseboards. I assume you have white up high and down low."

We thought about it and said, "Yeah."

He then took him down the line of brushes and rollers and said, "You can choose between any of these depending on your budget. I would recommend better brushes and rollers with this quality paint." Carl added, "You might want to use rollers for most of the area in an average sized room and smaller brushes for the work along the borders and edges. I would suggest painting the edges and borders first and then rolling the rest. You should also get a tarp or two to spread over the floor and any furniture that could get sprayed by paint."

"Good information, Carl," Wes said.

"That's why I'm here buddy!" Carl replied. "Let me go mix your paint."

Wes threw a bunch of stuff in his cart and then took the paint from Carl, saying, "Thanks, Carl! I'll see you in a few days."

"Good luck!" Carl said and then added as Wes was walking away, "Take your time."

Wes smiled and raised his thumb in the air to relay his understanding of the advice.

Painting didn't seem like such a difficult task, at least on the surface. Sean usually liked to simplify whatever task he was up to by breaking it down to its most essential components. He thought, "Open can of paint, dip brush in, spread it on the wall." That was perhaps an oversimplification of at least the initial stages of Wes's painting venture.

And while he wanting to start painting right away, Carl's sage words of preparation being just as important as the actually painting rang in his ears. He looked around the room and assessed the impact of paint fumes and splatter, so he opened both windows in the room and then moved the furniture into the center of the room before covering it with a thin plastic tarp. We then decided as he looked up at the ceiling that he would leave that in its original color of white along with the sconces and baseboards. The next step was to use a roll of blue tape and cover the areas he didn't want Southampton Blue paint bleeding through.

The taping took longer than he thought, with 20 minutes elapsing as he wanted to line it up just right. Wes put a pair of thin rubber gloves on and then shook up the gallon of paint before using a screwdriver to open the top on the covered floor. He poured the paint into a small plastic cup and then grabbed a small brush and started painting the edges so he could move through expeditiously with the roller. Ninety minutes later he finished with all of the edging, the cleansing sensation of the brush breathing new life into a room that had hosted death. We looked around and smiled, and then decided to take a brief break for lunch before powering through the rest of the room before having to pick up Xavier.

Following a turkey sandwich with some healthier chips, Wes was back at it, this time pouring a bunch of paint in a tray so he could submerge the roller. At six-and-a-half-feet tall, Wes was able to complete the rest of the job on his feet, putting his ladder aside for later when the paint dried and he had to remove the tape. He knew Carl was right about the quality of the tape after his first roll up and down the wall. The melodic movement combined with the colorful transformation of the wall drowned out any music he had playing in the background. Minutes turned into hours without regard to time until time mattered once again. Wes stepped back and admired his work as he put the roller down on its paint bed. Xavier would be released from school in 45 minutes and Wes only had a small patch remaining. He smiled as he picked up the roller and spent the next 10 minutes completing a job that took him the better part of five hours. It was a small room, which made him think that the main room in Chesapeake Sunset would be a multi-day job for another day. We sealed the paint can back up by using the butt end of this screwdriver. He then removed his rubber gloves and walked into his bathroom to wash his hand and face and try to clear his nostrils of any harmful paint residue. A shower was premature since he had some cleaning up to do when he returned home with Xavier.

"Whoa!" Xavier exclaimed as he walked into his father's room and marveled at the new color.

"Don't touch the wall. It's still wet," Wes said.

Telling a kid not to do something was akin to simply telling them to do something. Xavier might have inhaled the paint fumes as he walked over to the wall and extended his index finger. Luckily, Wes anticipated the move and picked Xavier up before he made contact with the wall – at least with his finger. The momentum of the act send Wes and Xavier leaning toward the wall, the back of Xavier's white t-shirt now blue with the paint. Wes barely flinched as he said to Xavier, "You have paint on your back."

Xavier ran around the corner to his bathroom where he tried to look over his shoulder into the window. When he finally glimpsed the blue paint he said, "Cool!" as Wes picked up the roller and touched up the paint on the wall.

Filling the Gaps

Being at home full time was a new paradigm for Wes in his adult life. And while his life had not been his own in recent months due to his Lena's illness, he had all the time in the world now and this was a problem. His days were spent filling the gaps in between the time he woke up early in the morning and when he faded off to sleep at night. Painting definitely gave him purpose and then supervising the various renovations around the house filled his days until it didn't.

After Wes dropped off Xavier one morning, he drove to Costco for a vision consultation.

"You know, you're a prime candidate to get laser vision surgery," the eye doctor said to him after his examination.

Wes heard the word "surgery" and initially backed off before thinking about how much his glasses were a constant source of irritation and complete pain in the ass.

"Surgery?"

The doctor sensed his apprehension and could feel his referral fee slipping away.

"The whole procedure takes less than five minutes."

Wes's eyes widened, "Let's do it.

"The eye center is across the street in that office park."

Wes visualized the building and replied, "I can stop there and make an appointment on the way home."

Which is exactly what Wes did, in addition to doing something nice for a person who had helped he, Lena and Xavier through their tough patch.

Three days later he repeated his drop off ritual and then went home where an Uber was waiting in front of his house to take him to the eye appointment. He was told that he would be unable to drive home, so a new ride-sharing app came in handy on this day. Normally, Wes wouldn't have taken such a chance and trusted the medical community with his eyesight. But that was that and this was now...

He arrived at the appointment and was wearing octogenarian wrap-around sunglasses within 30 minutes. The assistant helped him to a room where patients could sit for a few minutes and wait for their rides, which was separate from the general waiting room. Wes's senses were heightened as his vision was fuzzy. He sat next to another person in the room and realized that it was a woman by the fragrance of her perfume.

"This is weird," he said feeling vulnerable.

"Yeah, my eyes are crackly," the woman replied.

Wes knew the comforting voice, so he turned his head to the left to see who was sitting next to. The person was also wearing the protective eyewear, so it was difficult to get a gauge of the person's form. And then he put one and one together since he was the reason the person was sitting next to him in the first place.

"Nancy?"

Nancy was surprised that the person next to her knew who she is. She thought, "What are the odds?"

"Yes," she replied as she instinctively reached her left hand and touched the person next to her.

"It's Wes."

"Wes? What are you doing here?" she clumsily countered before she quickly recovered. "Oh my god. I can't believe you did this for me and we had appointments on the same day. Thank you, again," she added as she touched his hand as they held hands for a moment.

"Want to hang out until this haze wears off?" he asked.

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan," she said as they held hands on the way out and got into an Uber he had scheduled before the procedure.

The walk from the curb to the front door was interesting and Wes used spatial reasoning to guide his way. All of the family's therapy sessions were done at Nancy's office.

"It's always nice to connect people with their natural surroundings," she said and then clarified that point. "Although, I wish I could see a little bit more of your house right now."

Wes laughed and then used his key to open the front door, which took a few tries before he successfully gained entry to his house.

"Do you mind if I used the bathroom?" she said as he took her hand again as he turned right and led her down the hallway to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

"You can use this one, which Xavier usually destroys, or I can take you to my bathroom around the corner, which is much better maintained."

"Doesn't matter to me," she replied, although she was curious about what his bedroom looked like.

"I'll take you to mine," he said, thinking better of releasing her into the wild.

The harsh light of the day transitioned into the subtleties of Wes's newly painted bedroom. She smelled the paint and asked, "Did you just paint this room?"

"Yes," Wes replied.

"The color is so soothing," she said. "Good for you."

Wes brought Nancy to the door of the bathroom and said, "Here it is," as he flashed back to almost carrying his ailing wife to the bathroom in her last days before she lost the ability to do such things.

"I'll be in the kitchen if you need me," he said as she sensed a change in his attitude.

She closed the door, pulled down her pants and sat on the white toilet, her thoughts conflicted by a man in the process of healing and her desire to break free from issues of her own youth by establishing a stable family life. She finished up in the bathroom and slowly walked back into the hallway after exited a room that she never thought she would experience.

Wes heard Nancy shuffling through the hallway, so he met her there and said, "Come this way," as they held hands again, an act that had become all-too-familiar. "I put some snacks in the den," he said. "We can sit comfortably there. I took out a bottle of water for you. Is that okay?"

"Yes, of course," she replied. "Thanks."

They walked through the kitchen, then the living room and into the den like an old couple with no sense of time. Wes helped her sit on one of the three-seat couch while he initially sat on the other end. It had been years since he had been in a social situation that required tact, so Wes aired on the side of conservatism in his selection of seating position. While he felt completely comfortable with Nancy, he would let her come to him if the situation warranted it.

"This is nice leather," Nancy said, using her hands to judge the quality of the couch.

"Yeah, I loved this couch the minute I sat on it," he replied.

She opened her water, took a sip and then carefully set it back on the table.

"That was an extravagant gift you gave me," Nancy stated.

And while Wes had an answer queued up in his head, the execution of said response experienced turbulence on the way out.

Wes's silence spoke volumes. As a therapist and a human being, Nancy moved closer to Wes and said, "Are you all right?"

We nodded and said, "You have done so much for us. I can't imagine our life without you."

Words usually deflected off Nancy's armor, allowing her to keep her impartiality and emotional independence. It must have been the combination of having a laser shot in her eye and the vulnerability of the time of the month that changed her outlook.

She started crying, "You've been through so much."

Wes was holding back the tears, but a few slipped through the dam and rolled down his face. Being a giver prevented Wes from commenting on his personal pain.

"You know I'm available to talk anytime you want," Nancy said as she used her sleeve to wipe the tears from her face. "And not just because you fixed my eyes."

"I know," Wes gently replied. "Thanks, I'll take you up on that."

They talked for a little while longer until the exhausting of the day caught up with them. The couch was truly comfortable and had magical powers of relaxation. The warmth of their bodies created a natural coupling mechanism free of intention.

Marsha Bloom was happy for another opportunity to be in the house alone with Wes, so she volunteered to being Xavier home when Wes talked about his laser surgery. Wes had left the front door open so he wouldn't have to stagger to get up and kill himself walking through the house. Xavier didn't like the fact that his routine had been messed up, so he ran all the home. From the outside looking in, it was just a boy being a boy, but from the inside-out Xavier was petrified that something happened to his dad, although Wes had told him earlier in the day what he was doing. Hours seemed like days for the five-year-old.

The two people who entered the house had completely polar opposite reactions: Xavier entering the house and yelling, "Daaad!" as he instinctively ran through the house into the den where he saw something that delighted him.

"Miss Nancy!" Xavier exclaimed as Nancy was sleeping on Wes's chest with the two sitting upright on the couch. The sight of his two favorite people in the world sitting together was more prominent than the two of them inside the house with whacky sunglasses.

Xavier kept moving forward at the speed of light and Nancy was a little groggy, so Wes bore the brunt of his son's impact, while letting him hug his intended target. The three of them melting together as Marsha, Marsha, Marsha turned the corner and muttered, "Oh, boy," at the sight of what was apparently a scene that she had absolutely nothing to do with. She waved and said, "I'll see you tomorrow," and left the house just as Wes realized she was there and said, "Thanks, Marsha!"

BIRTHDAY PARTY

It had been a few weeks and Xavier was growing impatient by his dad's lack of activity in terms of following up. After months of seeing Miss Nancy on a regular basis, Xavier appeared to be struggling with the lack of therapist in her life.

"Is Miss Nancy coming to my party?" Xavier asked Wes for the fifth time in a week."

"Xavier keeps asking for you," Wes texted Nancy one night after the boy finally settled into sleep in Wes's bed. He scooped up his son and carried him to his freshly painted room and nestled him in his bed under his New York Islanders comforter.

Nancy was transcribing some notes on her home computer and she usually didn't respond to texts when she was working, but...

"Maybe you should bring him in," was her first thought, but the words never made it from her mind to her fingers. "That is natural," she typed and then wanted to instantly take it back. "Damn!" she grunted.

"Natural?" Wes muttered, wondering what was natural about a little boy, as well as a big boy, missing his therapist.

"I'm 20-15 now," Wes said, trying to change the subject.

"Showoff! I'm only 20-20," Nancy replied, trying to keep their relationship away from the professional because it would be too painful to go back to that. And while she would have done anything in her power to make Xavier feel better, traditional therapy was no longer one of them. She knew from her dealings with Wes and Xavier that Xavier was not very affectionate with people other than his father. So, when Xavier hugged her so tightly and wouldn't let go, she knew that she had crossed over the professional barrier and was now treading on sacred ground.

Xavier's party was still over a month away, so Wes didn't want to repeatedly pester Nancy if she was coming. He knew she would be there. He also knew that he wasn't ready. They texted a few times a week leading up to the party, but any thoughts of furthering their relationship seemed to be in a holding pattern. And while that was confusing for Nancy, because she felt so comfortable around Wes – more comfortable than any man she had ever been around – she was willing to be patient for the time being.

Wes, for his part, was just trying to get through every day in one piece. Now that all of the rooms were painted, including Xavier's blue and orange-striped room, and the rest of the renovations were complete, it was time for Wes to get back to work. This helped take his mind off the obvious distractions that could take place in a house where he had watched his wife die. But that was a story line for another day...

Xavier was excited when his birthday party finally rolled around. While Lena had thrown all parties in the couple's house during her mommy existence, Wes thought it would be better to start a new tradition outside of the house. But, with Grandma' Marlene's insistence, Wes decided to give in this one last time. He was getting mentally and physically stronger every day and would be less susceptible to the power of persuasion going forward.

Guests arrived just as the party started at noon on Saturday, the preferred time for pre-school parties in their tight circle. Most of these youngsters faded as the day went on, so it was imperative to have these kids hopped up on sweets and games without fear of stress from excessive parenting.

All of Xavier's friend arrived within 10 minutes of the official start time since they were within walking distance of the house. Marlene and her husband Fred had arrived shortly before that and Marlene quickly commented so Wes could hear her, "Interesting color choice."

Wes knew this woman had learned nothing and felt little from the loss of her daughter, causing him to wonder if he could be comfortable living a short drive away from her. But that was for another time.

It was 12:30 p.m. and Nancy Hollins pulled up to the curb in front of Wes and Xavier's house in her Toyota Prius. It was the first time she had seen the property in clear eyes free of the constraints of a fresh surgery with the wrap-around glasses overlay. She immediately noticed the solar panels on the roof and smiled. Wes's attention to detail in his garden was also impressive and created a welcoming feel as she exited the car. Being that it was a comfortable early fall day, the party was expected to be an inside-outside affair, with food served in the basement and then an opportunity for the kids to run outside and play on the newly constructed play area.

Nancy made her way up the stone walkway and then walked into the house without knocking, since she could hear the kids playing in the backyard. She didn't want to make a grand entrance so she decided to avoid the back gate and enter through the path of least resistance. And Nancy accomplished just that until she walked into the empty kitchen. Xavier was having a great time with his friends until a person dressed as his favorite animated character appeared in the backyard. He was freaked out and waited for the multi-colored creature to pass him before darting into the house crying. The back door flew open and Nancy looked straight ahead until she realized that the person was Xavier sobbing and her heart broke into little pieces.

"Nancy," he simply grunted, losing the usual Miss formality.

He jumped into her arms and she hugged him saying gently and reassuringly, "You're safe now."

Xavier held on tight like he had finally found home again. Wes had been trailing Xavier and was headed to comfort his son until he saw something that reassembled his broken heart.

He mouthed, "Thank you," as Nancy smiled and nodded.

Nancy turned around so Xavier could see Wes, the father taking a tissue out of his pocket to dry the son's eyes.

"Make him go away," was all that Xavier said as Wes handed Nancy the Kleenex and then went outside to pay the dude for his time. A few minutes later Wes came back inside and said, "He's gone. Your friends want you to come outside."

Nany was about to put Wes down but he wouldn't let go, so Wes led them both outside as he held the door open while she walked outside with Xavier in tow. Jaws dropped at the sight of the boy in the arms of another woman. Marsha Bloom telling the other yentas that this was the woman that she was talking about. The family's therapist. She wasn't the only one with a reaction to the sight of the nuclear family. Perpetual antagonist Marlene Katz could make something out of nothing in even the most relaxed atmospheres, but when she had some ammunition the bullets were sure to fly.

She waited for her opportunity, which occurred about an hour later when Xavier's cake came out and he had blown out the candles and was eating happily with his friends. Images of an all-to-real character now obscured by the sheer bliss of s Costco sheet cake. Marlene sensed her opportunity and moved stealthily through the crowd until she was standing next to Nancy.

"I am Xavier's grandmother, Marlene Katz," she said as she engaged Nancy and the two shook hands.

Marlene held the shake and positioned herself so she could look Nancy in the eye.

"You know, there's a delicate line between your oath as a therapist and the personal lives of your patients. I'm sure my daughter wouldn't appreciate you trying to take her place this quickly."

Nancy was an expert listener and attempted to absorb the onslaught after having what was amounting to be a transformative day. She had heard from Wes in a few of their therapy sessions about Marlene's intrusive ways and his apprehension in dealing with her. And now she knew exactly what he was talking about.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Marlene," Nancy replied and then she looked at Wes with weepy eyes. He stood there and empathized with Nancy and then glared at his ex-mother-in-law, which caused her to move away from Nancy. But the mental torture had been implemented and Marlene's day of making someone miserable aside from her husband had been completed.

It broke Nancy's heart to think about doing what she thought she had to do next: walk away from something she knew was right. She had never been in this position as a therapist where she blurred the line between a professional and personal relationship. If people were her patients, they were not her friends. It was usually that simple, until now.

Nancy was in a vulnerable position and she didn't like it. And, usually, when she felt compromised, Nancy usually cut bait and walked away. She looked over at Xavier and he was happily playing with his friends. And then she looked for Wes, but he had walked inside after his mother-in-law. So, she did the one thing that seemed to be instinctual, she walked away. Right out of the back gate and to her car. Wes was pursuing his mother-in-law, who had walked inside to go to the bathroom, and was stopped in his tracks by the site of Nancy getting into her car and then driving away. He was paralyzed and apparently powerless to stop something he wasn't sure what to do with at the time. It had been months since his wife had passed away and he was starting to come out of the cocoon of loss he had been encased in. But he wasn't ready to take the next step just yet, so he hesitated and then left a relationship he valued to forces of destiny.

COLORFUL BLOWBACK

"Why did that have to be the week I was out of town on business?" Wes's best friend Ross Meyer moaned. "Not only did you have a Costco sheet cake, your therapist shows up and Marlene injects her personal brand of positivity. Did you text Miss Nancy since then?"

"Yeah, a few times," Wes replied. "She's AWOL."

"How do you feel about that?" Ross asked.

Wes was going to answer, but he realized his friend was cracking on him with a little therapist humor.

"Fuck you, man! This shit is serious," Wes countered and then Ross realized for the first time that Nancy Hollins might mean a little more than just a mental health professional.

And then Wes went on to recount the story of how he paid for Nancy's eye surgery and they fell asleep together on the couch. Ross was captivated even before Wes talked about how attached Xavier was to Miss Nancy.

"Oh, boy," Ross thought, although the words were so powerful that they almost escaped his lips and saw the light of day.

Meanwhile, back at home, five-year-old Xavier didn't have the maturity to use his words when conveying his feelings. He was crushed when his party was winding down and he didn't see Miss Nancy.

"Where's Miss Nancy?" he asked his father with his wicked grandmother within earshot.

And before Wes had a chance to cushion the blow, Marlene opened her black hole.

"She had something more important to do!"

Wes leered at his ex-mother-in-law with daggers only she could understand, so she left the house for an extended absence. He would not suffer with her abusive ways any longer.

We said the first thing that came into his clouded mind, even though anything he said would fall short of healing the wound.

"Miss Nancy told me to tell you goodbye. Another kid needed to talk to her."

The words seemed to evaporate as they exited his mouth. Xavier didn't have his security blanket and he was not happy.

"I don't want her to be with other kids," Xavier said with a straight face and no hint of tears or tantrums.

Wes had the same thought deep in the recesses of his mind, but the words never saw the light of day. Instead, he stood motionless and let Wes walk away to go play with the few friends that remained at the party.

Over the next two weeks, Xavier exhibiting classic emotions of real loss. The kind of emotions he didn't exhibit when his own mother died. Miss Nancy was his best friend, his safe place and she was no longer around. The rug had been pulled out from under him and Wes was about to suffer the fallout.

Two days later, the house was quiet, way to quiet. Wes was in the kitchen putting some dishes in the dishwasher after dinner and then he was on his way to his room to change into his shorts and t-shirt, his sleep clothes. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Xavier sitting on the bleached wood floor in his room with a bunch of crayons. At first, he thought it was nice that his son was so creative, but then he realized that Xavier had no sheets of paper and was drawing directly on the floor.

His first thought was to yell, "What the fuck?!" but he stopped for a moment and tried to absorb what he was seeing. He knew there would be blowback from the party and Nancy's hasty departure and wasn't sure when the carnage would start. It started now...

"What are you doing, X?"

Xavier didn't look up, preferring to focus on his angry masterpiece, "I'm drawing."

"Look at me when you talk to me," Wes said in a stern voice.

"I'm drawing," Xavier defiantly repeated while sneering at Wes.

Wes decided to take the high road, "Do you want ice cream tonight?"

Xavier's anger abated for the time being, "Yes!"

"Then put the crayons away," Wes said and then walked into his room. He pulled out his phone and his knee-jerk reaction was to text Nancy, but he didn't want to crowd her by giving her some space. It probably wasn't fair that he was still relying on her even though she was no longer actively treated the family.

Nancy went the home the day of the party and started packing for her European vacation. She was upset and thought the break in the action couldn't have come at a better time. Her feelings for Xavier and Wes had clouded her professional judgement and she knew some time out of the country would be therapeutic. The next morning, right before she left for the airport, she looked at her phone and thought about sending Wes a text. Nancy reached her hand out, like she was being influenced by a magnetic attraction, but then resisted the temptation. She decided to bring her phone with her in case of an emergency, but otherwise it would stay off for the duration of her trip.

This lack of therapeutic access might have been smart for Nancy, but it proved detrimental for Wes and especially Xavier. The little guy's struggles continued almost daily until his teacher finally pulled Wes aside one afternoon after school let out and the kids ran to the adjacent playground.

"Mr. Roundtree, do you have a minute?" Miss McMurtry asked Wes in a much different voice than her previously flirtatious tone.

"Sure," Wes replied and the two moved off to the side as the group of yentas posing as mothers talked in front of them.

"I've been running into some trouble with Xavier this week," she started as Wes exited his body and was now observing from afar.

"He's been starting with the other boys and also fighting with the girls, so I had to give him so time to cool off. It's understandable that he would have some issues given the circumstances. Is he still seeing someone?"

Wes returned to his body and replied, "I'm working on it," and then nodded at the teacher and walked away without exchanging additional dialogue.

The teacher realized that both father and son were still hurting and would back off for now. Xavier was the last kid left on the playground after the other kids said their goodbyes and went home. Wes wasn't sure what to say to his troubled son, because he was pretty fucked up by Nancy's exit and subsequent disappearance as well – on top of the debilitating loss of his wife. When Xavier got most of it out of his system, he started walking away from the playground and Wes walked with him all of the way home. The next day was Saturday, which was another opportunity for Xavier to melt down. He put a hole in his window's screen and started throw his toys outside. Wes once again walked by his son's room and was stopped in his tracks by Xavier throwing his toys out his ground-floor window and into his garden below.

Wes tried to keep his cool but that effort was sadly unsuccessful, "Xavier, what are you doing?!"

Xavier shuddered as if someone had just shocked him, "I'm sorry!" Xavier yelled and then starting sobbing. Wes moved into the room and cradled Xavier in his arms, safe from internal hurt and harm. The two had suffered enough.

Later that afternoon, Nancy walked off her airplane and then turned her phone on during her walk from the gate down to baggage claim. She waited for her iPhone to dormant iPhone to boot up and thought how refreshed she felt after two weeks away from the grind. It was actually her escape from a situation that generated so many conflicting emotions that made the well-times vacation so useful. And before she was able to check her email, a series of concerning texts rolled on the top of the screen:

"I'm sorry that happened."

"She had no right to talk to you that way."

"I hope you're all right."

"Xavier has been acting out in school."

"I think he misses you."

"We both miss you."

She quickly read the texts in succession and really didn't have to go back into her text history to confirm who sent them. She grabbed her luggage and then hustled out to the street where a car was waiting to take her home. She put her stuff in the trunk and then sat in the back seat.

"Change of plans. I want to be dropped off at a different address."

The 30-something driver replied, "Can you change the address in the app?"

"Sure," she replied, as she clumsily fumbled with her phone and changed the address. The driver got the change and his GPS updated, "Bingo," the bearded Comic-Con enthusiast said.

Nancy shook her head and thought how two weeks of strolling and eating had ended and now real life was ever-present. She texted Wes back, "I'm coming."

Wes had never been one to sit and wait for outcomes, so he and Xavier jumped in his car after Xavier finally calmed down.

"Enough with this bullshit," Wes muttered and then zipped out of his driveway. "We're going to see Miss Nancy."

The gloom that had consumed Xavier for more than a couple of weeks lifted and his brilliant smile returned to his glowing face and his blue eyes sparkled.

Wes received the Nancy's text while sitting in the driveway of her office/house, which had been passed down from her therapist father who had passed away and her mother was now residing in Florida. She had been struggling with her dad's passing for the past few years.

"Oh, shit," he said and then looked at Wes in the rear-view mirror. "She's going to our house."

"Oh, shit," Xavier said with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Wes smirked at Xavier, letting the five-year old experience a little freedom by cursing. The race was on to see who would arrive first at the house until Nancy narrowed the competition.

"I'll give you a 40% tip if you get me there in the next 10 minutes."

Roger Simmons did nothing fast or with any sense of urgency, but he had a Star Wars costume to make for his next convention and it wasn't going to pay for itself. So, he used whatever muscles he had in his lower right calf and foot and stepped on it.

Nancy was the first to arrive and she tipped Roger the exorbitant amount that she promised, saying, "Thank you!"

She exited the Kia Soul, removed her luggage from the hatchback trunk and then Roger drove away at his usual snail's pace. Nancy rolled her luggage all the way to the front door, imagining along that way that chivalrous Wes would come out any moment and spare her the extra effort. But when he did not emerge from the house and she rang the bell to silence she became momentarily concerned.

"Where are you?" she texted to Wes.

Wes was sitting in his car with Xavier in the back seat.

"I like it here," Xavier stated.

"Yeah, what do you like about it?" Wes asked.

"It's quiet," Xavier replied.

"Quiet is good," Wes said.

"Yes," Xavier added.

And then Nancy's text came through and Wes said, "There she is!"

"Where?" Xavier said, since he didn't see Nancy anywhere.

Wes asked Nancy where she was and then she sent a picture of her smiling and waving in front of their door.

Wes turned and showed Xavier a picture of the smiling Nancy and simply beamed. He said to Nancy, "The garage code is 8972. Make yourself comfortable. We'll be there in a few minutes. He then emerged from the car and Xavier followed as they snapped a similar picture at Nancy's front door. She felt her phone buzz and started laughing, shaking her head as she entered the house with her luggage in tow.

BEHIND THE SCENES, PART I

Meanwhile, on a different but parallel track, Marlene Katz and her husband Fred –

well, mostly Marlene – were discussing the arc of their immediate future.

"All of our friends are either dead or living in Florida," she stated.

He nodded in agreement, but really thought that she couldn't stand being in New York without her daughter.

Marlene was adept at reading Fred even when he wasn't verbalizing his opinions.

"You are also upset," she said and Fred replied, "Yes, I am."

"I want to sell the house and live in Florida year-round," she said.

"You're going to miss Xavier," he replied.

Marlene pondered and replied, "He can come visit us." She saw the interaction between Xavier, Wes and Nancy and knew that she didn't want to see that all come together. That wasn't her world anymore, especially when she learned that Rabbi Aaronson, her side piece, decided to retire from their New York temple and move down to Boca Raton year-round.

"I'm retiring," Aaronson said after one of their more inspiring eight-minute sessions.

Marlene was experiencing one of her rare moments of bliss, so his words barely resonated.

"Retiring?" she hazily replied, giving renewed meaning to the term screwed silly.

"Yes, retiring," the rabbi replied. "I am stepping away from my congregation at the end of next month."

"What?" Marlene asked as she awoke from her sex haze. "Are you leaving?"

Aaronson tapped his chest for her to rest her head on him. He then disclosed his plans.

"We're selling the house and moving down to Boca full time. I got a break on the association fee in exchange for me leading services during the primary holidays."

Marlene had full access to the rabbi year-round over the past five years, as she mirrored her housing schedule to Aaronson's.

"I would love it if you were down there year-round as well," he added.

The timing was right for Marlene to finally make the move away from her home for the past 40 years. Everything had changed since Lena died and part of Aaronson's decision was for his girlfriend. He felt that his girlfriend needed a change of venue after 70-plus years of her life in New York, including her formative years in Brooklyn. He also could give a shit about continuing to deal with the dwindling membership base of the temple and the inevitable demise of the religion's sects. In Florida, he could continue to be with his people and also save a shit-ton of money on the hefty association fee. It was a match made in heaven.

It was no coincidence that Marlene and her rabbi boyfriend lived down the block from each other in Boca Raton. They would get together two times a week when their spouses were at the club house, his wife playing mahjong and her husband playing poker and billiards. Marlene intentionally joined other groups that met on other days of the week, although she really didn't give two shits about the activity.

"Then we will sell our house as well," she stated.

"What about your grandson?" Aaronson asked.

"He can come visit us," she stoically replied, as if her priorities had shifted away from giving Wes shit on a consistent basis.

Wes was slightly concerned that his life after Lena, in terms of dating, would be scrutinized. But he wasn't distracted to the point of being dislocated from life and love. That is why, after months of celibacy and feeling that Nancy had slipped away, he agreed to go out with Brandon and a couple of his chippies.

"How come you've never been married or you never stay with a woman for too long?" Wes asked his best friend after he had said his goodbyes to Xavier and Kara the babysitter and jumped in his Tesla.

And before Brandon could answer, Wes injected some comic relief into the conversation, "What kind of gas mileage do you get with this thing?"

Brandon was going to answer and then he laughed, "Mother fucker!" Brandon grunted and then elbowed his friend in the left arm. "And you know why my relationships are short."

"Your parent's divorce?"

"Yeah," Brandon replied. "I was surprised that you agreed to go out tonight." And when Wes didn't reply, Brandon filled in the blanks. "You don't think you can get her."

Wes hesitated and then replied, "I can get her."

"Sure, you can," Brandon said without a shred of empathy. "Try not to get too excited when you meet these girls."

Wes always had the upper hand in their relationship, so he wasn't about to relinquish his advantage even when his guard had been eroded.

"Girls? What are you 15? Do these women hang with you because you have money?"

Normally, Brandon would have said, "Did your wife stay with you because you had money?" But he took the hit and barely struck back. "Yes, that and my huge hog."

"I've been in a locker room with you. Huge might be a bit of an exaggeration."

Brandon remained mentally flaccid, "I would take well above average for a white boy."

"That's just racist, but you have obviously been blessed. Do you feel better now? Have I fluffed you up enough? And if you ask me how old the babysitter is, I'm going to take it all back."

Brandon looked over at Wes and smirked, "She's in middle school," Wes stated.

"Oooh, that's too young," Brandon said, "but she's very developed for a girl of that age."

Wes rolled his eyes, "I'm sure there is a nice toasty place waiting for you in hell."

"Dare to dream," Brandon replied as he accelerated without noise through the street toward the restaurant.

Concurrently, on the same evening, Nancy decided to accept an invitation to dinner that she had been avoiding for months. A doctor at a local hospital had asked her out a few times without success until a few days earlier.

"Hey, we should get a drink sometimes," Dr. Steven Noon asked in the lobby of the hospital's psychiatric ward.

"Make it dinner and I'm in," she replied, which took the doctor by surprise.

"What, you want to go out?" he asked.

"Are you having second thoughts?" she inquired.

Nancy thought, "I will if you don't close the deal," but then she said, "Let's go out."

If not for a snafu, all of the parties would have eaten at the same restaurant that night. The issue coming because Brandon went to a restaurant he had taken a recent date to, in a move that was more muscle memory than anything else.

"Where are you?" he texted his date.

"We're at the restaurant," Theresa replied.

"I don't see you," he countered.

"I don't see you either," he said. "Are you at Remington's?" he asked, after remembering what restaurant they were supposed to attend.

"Yeah, aren't you?" Theresa replied.

"Be there in a few minutes," he stated and then they left, Brandon looking at Nancy as she approached the desk, Wes already having cleared the doorway. Nancy and Brandon had never met, but she made an impression on him.

"That chick was hot," he observed as they walked to the car.

"I'm sure she was," Wes countered.

BEHIND THE SCENES, PART II

So, both parties wound up eating at restaurants a half-a-mile apart, which was a good thing because it would have been a quick night if Wes and Nancy would have seen each other. They were many parallels on the date, especially where Nancy and Wes were concerned.

Nancy arrived first for her date and waited more than 25 minutes for colleague, Dr. Noon, to arrive. He walked through the front door and didn't offer an apology, acting like he had arrived in an acceptable grace period.

"Asshole," Nancy muttered under her breath, trying to conceal her disdain for the recently divorced oncologist, who apparently thought he was god's gift to the world. Steven Noon was trying that pickup line out on all of the female nurses and doctors with varying success. He was surprised that Nancy agreed to not only go out for a drink but request dinner as well. Noon was tired from being out the previous night with an especially energetic nurse who tested the boundaries of his Cialis prescription. She had cornered him in a supply closet only moments before he was going to head out, which was why he showed up late with a fairly cavalier attitude. There was no part of him that was interested in Nancy as a romantic possibility, but he thought it would be good form to go through the motions and grab a meal with a familiar face.

Meanwhile, the guys arrived at Remington's and pleasantly received by two women that were already two margaritas ahead.

"There they are!" Brandon's date Theresa exclaimed. And then she said to her friend, "I told you he was a hunk," but it was loud enough for both guys to hear, inciting Brandon to elbow his friend Wes in the ribs.

We had stepped two feet into the restaurant and all he could think about was being at home in his shorts and t-shirt in the quiet of his own thoughts. Brandon had been out with Theresa before and had seen her naked several times. In fact, he had never met a woman like her in his life that preferred to walk around with no clothing on. He felt at times that it was disappointing to see her fully clothed, although the scant swatch of fabric she was wearing barely covered her erogenous zones.

Theresa and her best friend Millicent had been sorority sisters who had shared a lot more than there love of Greek life. Plans for the evening included dinner and then extracurriculars that would serve as desert.

"Aren't you delicious," Millicent said Wes, who had never heard anyone described another human being like that with a straight face.

"Millie," she said, as she offered up her hand to be kissed.

Wes was having none of that, as he awkwardly shook her limp hand and did his best to avoid her advances for a full body hug.

They sat around a half-oval table, the two girls on the inside and the boys on the outside, as the perky waitress that Brandon had slept with a few months back walked over to the table.

"Oh, this mother fucker," she muttered and then looked at him like he had stolen her lunch money.

And then she recaptured her public persona, the one that left too many buttons on her white dress shirt unbuttoned and basically performed for tips.

"Good evening! Welcome to Remington's. Can I get you something to drink?"

The girls giggled as Deidre walked over to the left side of the table where Brandon was sitting.

"Thanks for calling me," she grunted.

"Didn't you have a good time?" Brandon said, catching her off guard.

"Yeah, it was fun," she replied.

"Do you want to do it again?" Brandon asked as the girls were double-teaming Wes and ignoring what was going on at the other side of the table.

"Sure," she said. "I'll come over tomorrow night."

Brandon smiled and said, "Two glasses of your best scotch for me and the other gentlemen."

She smiled and was back on her game, remembering that Brandon was a generous man despite the fact that he never kept in touch. She wasn't looking for a husband, or a boyfriend, so his casual and spontaneous nature was a perfect fit.

"Meet me in the bathroom in 10 minutes," she whispered as he smirked.

Wes couldn't believe his friend was hitting on someone right in front of his date. He also was pissed that he had to endure the women shrieking and chortling at just about everything he said, although the subject matter was odd.

"When was the last time you had sex?" Theresa asked, "Because Brandon told me that your wife died."

Wes's eyes widened at her lack of subtlety.

"Oh, that's so sad, " Millie added as she placed her left hand on his inner thigh.

"Somebody's got a baseball bat in his pants," Millie said and then high-fived her life sister.

Wes buried his head in his hands and marveled at the classless gesture. He was also confused because his penis was flaccid, which proved that it wouldn't take much to impress either one of these floozies.

Dr. Noon was checking out the waitresses ass as she delivered drinks to him and Nancy, who figured that she needed a stiff drink if she was going to endure the hour-long dinner. The waitress looked down at him and winked, which incited an eye roll by the usually calm therapist. The waitress walked away like she was a model on a fashion show catwalk. Nancy took a sip of her apple martini and said, "Wow, she doesn't lack self-confidence."

Noon replied as he continued to ogle her, "No, she doesn't," before he realized that it was time to turn his attention to Nancy for a few moments. He opened his menu and asked, "So, what looks good?"

Nancy thought, "My nightgown, slippers and bed," but she was hungry after a long day and just wanted to eat at that point. "I gotta' get my hands on a big, bloody steak."

Noon did a double take when he looked at Nancy, being surprised that someone so calm and together would order something so manly. Moments later, the waitress came back, which meant that Noon's focus would shift solely to her.

"Would you like an appetizer before your main course," she said in a suggestive voice while she looked at Noon.

Nancy mumbled, "Oh, for god's sake, just get a room already."

Noon replied, "Maybe desert," he smirked, but I think we're ready to order our entrees. The lady will have..."

And then Nancy cut him off, because the last thing she was going to do was let Noon decide anything for her.

"I'll have the Caesar salad with grilled shrimp," she stated and then looked at him in such a way that suggested he could go fuck himself twelve ways to Sunday.

Noon paused and then replied, "I'll have the Delmonico steak."

She looked down between her legs and asked, "Rare?"

He grunted, "Yeah."

Nancy would have walked out right then if they weren't colleagues. The professional nature of their relationship inhibited her from reacting in a natural and unemotional way, but she would obviously not be hanging around for desert.

Desert was also a pipe dream for Wes, Brandon, Theresa and Millie, as both ladies were fairly inebriated and had their sights on their dates for their main course. Millie's hands kept moving closer to pay dirt and there was just so many times that Wes could excuse himself and go to the bathroom before she would follow him in. In one of his trips near the men's bathroom, Wes called home to see if everything was all right.

"Hello."

"Hi Kara, it's Mr. Roundtree."

"Oh hi, Mr. Roundtree," she replied.

"Is everything okay over there?" Wes asked.

"Yes, Xavier is having a great time coloring."

"I hope he's drawing on paper," Wes asked.

Thankfully, Kara was out of the loop in the whole Xavier drawing directly on the wood floor caper.

"Yes, of course."

"Well, I'm not feeling great so I'm probably going to come home early," Wes stated.

"Oh, okay," she replied.

"But I will pay you for the full four hours," he added.

She smiled, "Thanks!" Because being paid for doing nothing had become a hallmark of her generation.

He hung up the phone and then headed back the table, determined to put at end to the misery that was his first dating experience since... he wondered why it all had to be so difficult until he reflected on the time he spent with Nancy Hollins after their laser eye surgery. That was easy. Leaving would also be easy.

He looked at Brandon, who eyed him as he strode back to the table with his long legs like a giraffe in the open field. Brandon and Wes had been friends for so many years that he knew exactly what was going to happen next. He chewed his hunk of steak like a cow repeatedly processing the same mouthful of cud. Brandon processed the information around him and figured that his buddy's exodus wasn't the worst thing that ever happened to him, being that he had two women that were primed and ready to ride. There was more-than-enough room in the Tesla and his kind-sized bed, which was an unusual size of bed for most bachelor's to own. When Brandon purchased the bed, he looked at a queen and California Kind size. And since price was not the object, he opted for the larger size bed. While there were nights when the mattress was cavernous, there were also other nights like this when size not only mattered it was necessary.

"Xavier is sick and I have to go home," Wes said. He was wearing a blue blazer, so there was no need for him to fetch a jacket.

"It was a pleasure meeting you both," he said while making eye contact with each woman. "I'll talk to you tomorrow," he said to Brandon and then jetted out of the restaurant after Brandon said, "I got this," as Brandon reached for his wallet to throw so money down.

"Awwww," Millie exclaimed and then she quickly adjusted her sights on Brandon, just like he had mentally predicted. She moved closer to him as both women sandwiched him. He looked over at the waitress and said, "Check, please!" in order to access to women who were primed but with an expiration time.

On a parallel track, dinner with the doctors was coming to its logical conclusion. Nancy had grown increasingly tired of chewing on salad and watching her dinner companion flirt with a waitress who obviously worked the back channel for tips. She gave him an out.

"I'm sorry Steven, but I must be coming down with something." Nancy dropped a $50 bill on the table and her classy date did not stop her.

"Feel better," was all he could muster, which propelled Nancy out of the restaurant without saying another word.

Both Nancy and Wes hit the outside of the restaurant at the same moment and inhaled the reinvigorating scent of freedom.

"Not doing that again," they both muttered as Nancy walked to her Prius and Wes got into a nicely detailed Chevy Malibu Uber that pulled up to the curb right in front of him.

THE VOID

Back to the present, Wes and Xavier were hurtling at what felt like the speed of sound back to their house when the phone rang. Wes glanced over at the screen and did an abbreviated eye roll, since he knew Xavier watched his every move.

He pushed the answer button on his steering wheel and tried not to signal irritation in the intonation of his voice, "Hello, Marlene."

Xavier barked from the back seat, "Grandma!"

"Hello, Angel!" Marlene replied in a positive tone of voice only reserved for her grandson. She wasn't one to waste time, ever, so she got right to the point of her call. "We've decided to move to Florida full time."

"So, you're gonna' sell the house?" Wes asked, not trying to freak out his son. His in-laws already had a place in Florida that they lived half of the year during the colder East Coast months.

"Your moving, grandma?" Xavier asked.

"Remember the house you loved in Florida with the pool in our backyard?" Marlene explained.

"Yes!" Xavier exuberantly replied.

"Well, we're going to stay down there because it's warm all of the time. You can come stay with us whenever you want."

Xavier might have been five years old, but he was all of five years wise. He realized that everyone needed their space and the move would be a good one for everyone, including him. "Okay."

Wes's mind was going a mile a minute. He almost had to pinch himself to make sure he was awake and not dreaming. After many months of struggle and being beaten down it appeared that things were changing rapidly for the better.

After a few more seconds of talk, Marlene hung up the phone and essentially freed Wes up from the burden he had been dealing with for more than a decade. That feeling of ease and invincibility was short lived when the phone rang again. He thought, "Could it be Marlene calling me back to tell me that her statement was a ruse, a prank she was playing on me as payback for years of being a supportive and loving husband and father?"

"Hello," he said it real time.

"Hey brother, I got a few more girls on the hook for tonight," Brandon said.

"Good for you," Wes replied. "I'm with Xavier. Not gonna' happen."

Brandon took it in stride and yelled, "What's up, X Man?"

Xavier perked up, "Brandon!" And then curiosity got the best of him, "How do girls get on a hook?"

"Later!" Wes exclaimed as he hit the hang-up button and then looked back at Xavier, "He's going on a date with a few girls and wanted me to come with him."

Xavier wasn't having any of that, "But we have to go see Miss Nancy."

Wes looked back at Xavier, "Yes, we do."

At the house, Nancy was sitting on the same spot on the couch that she and Wes had slept after their laser surgeries. She looked around the room after closing her eyes briefly and had a brief thought about walking around the house. Her thoughts darting in and out of focusing on the extent to which Lena Roundtree was still present. But then she concluded that it would be primarily a lack of trust that would guide her wrongly down that rabbit hole. She continued to sit and the couch, closing her eyes in order to regain her balance and adequately prepare for what would come next.

Wes drove without thinking, the route home ingrained in his consciousness, until he turned right off the main road and the truth started sinking in. After months of coming home to an empty house time and again, even when Nina was still alive and hanging on by a string, he was approaching a location that had the potential to be whole again. And he also thought that it was possible for he and his son to be happy again, the finality of which could not occur without that special woman in their lives.

There had been a consistent thought that had dogged Nancy since the day of Xavier's birthday party: Would they have enough space to be happy? This grew into, would Marlene Katz allow them to be happy? And, while she empathized with the hurt that came with burying a daughter, she also knew that there should be live for Wes and Xavier after Lena's death. She had been with them almost every step of the way since Lena's diagnosis as she drifted back to the first time they all met.

Wes was apprehensive about going to see a therapist, being that the idea of cancer and his wife's mortality were so fresh. Nancy's house was definitely more soothing than the anxiety factory of a professional building.

"It's pretty our here," Lena said as she held her guys' hands on either side.

Shielding young Xavier for whatever came next was priority number one for two selfless parents trying to save their immediate world.

"Go knock on the door," Wes said to Xavier and he bounded up the three stairs and knocked on the door with his little fists.

Nancy was preparing some snacks for Xavier in her kitchen, which was adjacent to her therapy room. She heard the knock and walked through the room to her side door.

"Welcome, Roundtree family!" she exclaimed in her usually positive tone of voice. "My name is Miss Nancy," she said to Xavier as she put her hand out and he held it, which both surprised and comforted Lena and Wes. It usually took Xavier a while to warm up to people if he ever did.

"C'mon in," she said to the family before she turned her attention to Xavier. "Are you hungry? I made some snacks."

Xavier happily walked with Miss Nancy through the therapy room and into the kitchen, where he instinctively took a seat at a chair around a table. She placed a plated peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich in front of him and said, "I never liked the crust much either," as she poured milk into a small plastic cup.

Nancy then walked over to Wes and Lena, who were still standing and said, "I'm Dr. Nancy Hollins. Nancy," she added.

Lena and Wes introduced themselves, Nancy observed the pain and confusion in his eyes while also wondering how she was keeping it all together. She always kept a distance from her patients, which usually consisted of families going through life crises such as cancer. And while all children were special to her, since she couldn't have her own, there was something about Xavier that limited her power to maintain her boundaries. He was like an old man in a child's body. Wes didn't know how it all would go down, being that Xavier had been attached to his hip almost from birth. He was surprised to see the little guy bounded into the house and trusted a person he had never met so freely.

He looked at Lena, "Wow."

"I know, right," she replied, being partially jealous that her relationship with her son had always been from somewhat of a distance.

The trio waited for Xavier to finish his sandwich and milk, which took all of three minutes. Then Nancy led them back into her therapy room where the real work could begin in a relaxed way. She was about to explain the drawing pad that was linked to a flat screen television, but the next generation of tech savvy users didn't need much prompting. Xavier put on the headphones and scrolled through the menu of music until he found a classic rock station. He then picked up the art pen and started drawing.

"Usually that requires at least 10 minutes of instructions," Nancy said to Lena and Wes while thinking how easy her job would be if every kid was this plugged in. She then guided the couple to a couch and she sat across them in a comfortable tub chair.

"Tell me your concerns," was all Nancy had to say in order to get the ball rolling.

"I feel distant from him," Lena admitted while looking over at Xavier. The cold inference to Xavier as "him" caused Wes to drop his head, which Nancy immediately noticed.

Nancy was about to pacify Lena until she kept talking.

"I've never been very good with kids."

Lena looked off into the abyss of her now darker world and Wes picked up his head long enough to solicit a reaction from Nancy, since his wife had just hit the therapist with a sledgehammer just after hello. Nancy barely blinked as she offered him some consolation and then sought to do the same thing with his wife.

"The most important thing you can do right now, Lena, is to take care of you. From the looks of things, it appears that your son is quite independent, which probably means that he is very much like you. You just focus on getting better."

Wes always dwelled in the house of positivity and was encouraged to see a ray of positivity for a change. He nodded at Nancy in thanks and his wife did the same as they continued to discuss sorted details.

"How much should we be telling him?" Wes asked.

"Well, that's up to you," Nancy replied. "But children are fairly perspective and can pick up many unspoken cues. So, I would suggest staying as positive as you can in front of him."

Nancy had already been through one operation and a round of chemotherapy. Her hair was still in place but it was only a matter of time before her beautiful black mane would fall to the floor. She started to cry since few things were as important to her than her hair. Wes handed her a tissue and then held her hand after she was done dabbing her eyes. I the nearly two years of torture, this was most emotion that Lena showed. Her life was about control and she managed to control even the flow of tears until her last moments.

"We should do it this weekend," Wes stated.

"We?" Nancy thought.

Lena looked at Wes but did not speak.

"I will buzz your hair and then buzz my own," he said.

She gripped his hand tight as Xavier picked his head up for a moment and glanced at his parents and then at the nice lady who's house he really liked. She appeared to be crying without tears. A truth that Nancy was feeling at the time. She had seen many couples struggle through cancer in different ways, but there seemed to a disconnection, a sense of incompleteness in the family dynamic. Wes felt that as well.

INTERLUDE

They met every other week until the last few weeks when Hospice was called in and Wes took a break and brought Xavier over to Miss Nancy's house. It was the first time that Nancy and Wes had been alone, the only subtext being that Xavier was sitting quietly doing his drawing with his headphones on.

"Van Halen!" Xavier grunted as he rocked out with his head bopping to the beat.

"He is a force of nature," Wes said to Nancy.

"Yes, he is," Nancy replied as they both smiled.

It was the first time Wes had talked to another woman either without his wife or being a member of the medical profession, although Nancy was a doctor by trade. Only she was so nice and lacked any formality associated with most clinicians.

The was a moment of silence before Wes spoke. Nancy did not want to trivialize the moment by making an obvious point, like asking Wes how he was doing.

"I don't think I want Wes at the funeral. A five-year-old should not look into a hole in the ground and watch people shovel dirt."

Wes picked up his head and looked into Nancy's blue eyes, "If that's what you think is best," she replied, as she searched for meaning in his tired brown eyes.

"What would you do?" no-nonsense Wes asked.

"What would I do?" she replied, trying to by herself some time.

"Yeah, what would you do?" Wes asked again, coming to life a little bit. "Would you let him, or any child, go to a funeral?"

"Xavier, no. I think you're right. He's been through enough and he needs to heal. But there are some children who can sustain seeing something like that, but I wouldn't recommend it. It's always better to err on the safe side."

"I also don't want to do the dirt thing. Lena doesn't like dirt," Wes stated.

Nancy nodded and let Wes lead the way.

"I have been saving all of the flowers I have been buying and put them in large baggies."

"I love that idea," Nancy replied. "How did you come up with that?" Nancy asked, as the conversation downshifted from formal to more informal.

Xavier was deep in thought with his sketch of a hippo scoring a goal on an ice rink. But he felt a shift in vibe and looked up briefly to see his dad and Miss Nancy smiling and laughing. It had been quite a while since he saw his dad smiling. While you would imagine that a hippo would be quite joyous after scoring a goal to win the Stanley Cup for the New York Islanders, this hippo exhibited a great deal more joy than many of Xavier's earlier drawings. Nancy would always evaluate the drawings after Xavier and family left her office, but she would usually keep her findings to herself due to the sad quality of his artistic narrative. She figured the family didn't need any more adverse information.

However, on this day, she sent a copy of the drawing to Wes and said, "Our Xavier shows great promise. And we do need the cup brought back to Long Island after all of these years."

Wes got the email and smiled, not really thinking about the use of the word "Our" to categorize Xavier. Nancy made him feel normal. Made him feel like he wasn't crazy or heading in that direction. Made him feel that he wasn't alone with his thoughts. She wasn't judgmental. She wasn't in it purely to make money – the profit motive generally had the impact of destroying any spontaneity and genuine reactionary thoughts. The family wasn't even paying her. Not that it even mattered...

Nancy didn't offer to go to the funeral or watch Xavier during such time because she wasn't a babysitter and didn't want to extend herself beyond the patient-doctor relationship. Even though every fiber of her being was screaming the contrary. She had forgone serious relationships in her younger years to focus on her professional career –

at least that what she told herself. After being proposed to a couple of times, Nancy was now on the border of her prime child-baring years. At 35, she was a few years younger than Wes and was getting tired of answering questions about why she wasn't married and/or had a significant other in her life. It was befuddling to people, considering that he was such a nice and beautiful person with a tremendous career.

Nancy's parents had divorced when she was 10 years old and the scar of separation still was impactful. It was so profound for so many years that her career choice was simply a repeated cry to find answers, any answers, to her mom walking away from her dad and her. It was usually the father that left the roost, but Nancy's mom became a Stanford University professor of psychology and never looked back. Her father, a high school health teacher and legendary football and lacrosse coach, was all she really needed or so she thought. She was always around his teams and the players treated her like a little sister, not a person they could date even when she was in high school.

There was one player who made a play for her during her sophomore year, but after Coach Hollins got wind of it, the player was running laps until he couldn't run any more. Problem solved. Isolation and loneliness continuing to germinate.

Dad had passed away from a massive coronary some 15 months earlier, only six months after he retired from teaching and coaching. At 68 years old, he about to transition out of the family's house and into a smaller place. As an only child, she did what she had always done: went it alone and didn't bitch about it. Nancy learned a lot in those months she was cleaning out his house, which also coincided with her first contact with the Roundtree family. Wes had seen the pictures in Nancy's kitchen of her and her father and quickly put the pieces together.

He pulled her aside in their second meeting and said, "I'm sorry to hear about your dad. He must have been so proud of you and your work."

Nancy simply nodded at Wes and did her best to hold off the tears in order to maintain her professionalism. After all, she was counseling a family that was bout to lose its matriarch. Once she heard Wes say, "soft tissue sarcoma" to describe Lena's illness, she knew it was the beginning of the end since she never heard a single case of someone surviving the rare disease more than two years. Her heart immediate sank for the young boy and the widower in waiting, who she surmised was better equipped for life than death. Although she came to realize that Wesley Roundtree was an all-weather person who never shrank from the moment.

STEPS TOGETHER

Timing is everything in life. At least that's what Nancy thought when she waited for the boys to arrive. She had been looking in recent months at relocating to Arizona, or Florida, or North Carolina, in order to take advantage of the proliferation of Baby Boomers in these areas that were moving into retirement. She knew that problems generally did not go away, and people would need counseling well into their old age. She even went so far as to put a bid on a house, but she was outbid at the last second of the auction by a local Scottsdale buyer with deep pockets. She didn't see a future in New York. Her feelings for Wes had not germinated as of yet, even if they were in their latency period.

She was still concerned about Xavier's grandmother, the infamous Marlene Katz. It didn't go so well when they met the first time and she wasn't looking forward to a repeat performance. Meddling families had always been a sticking point for her in past relationships primarily since she had so few layers in her own family. Her paternal grandma' died when she was 10 and there was no maternal participation to speak of, so she and her dad life an unfiltered life. Therapy background aside, she felt calm that the dynamic trio would be able to work something out that would be comfortable for all of them.

Wes pulled into the driveway and was going to park the car until he was reminded how fun it was to go all the way.

"All the way in!" an excited Xavier exclaimed, as he bounced up and down in the back seat.

Wes obliged as he reached up to his visor and pressed a button that opened his garage. Nancy jumped slightly when she heard the sound of the garage opening, her heart starting to beat faster at first until everything slowed and she transitioned into a dreamlike state.

Personal commitment had been her problem since her mom left, preferring to throw her energy into her professional life. At least, that was her excuse. She built a successful practice through a mix of a fee based and pro bono business. It seemed like the kore she gave, the more people trusted her and either recommended her to other people or came back and paid her themselves. And now, she had provided a service to a family going through cancer and then the subsequent death of their matriarch, only to be so immersed in their lives that she was about to take a leap of faith and – in the absence of a better term – take her place. In a nice way. In a natural way. In a way that she would have never anticipated. She had been involved with many families that dealt with the carnage of cancer, but never in all of her years had she had the slightest inclination of injected herself in their lives beyond the four walls of her practice. Until today.

Wes had been so consumed with arriving fast, but safely, that the reality of the situation had not fully sunk in. That was, until, he stepped into his house. Xavier unlocked his seatbelt and raced through the garage and the door, where he knew what awaited him on the other side.

Nancy stood up and walked a few steps toward the door that connected the garage to the living room/den/TV room/office. She envisioned Xavier running through the door toward her and that's exactly what happened.

"Miss Nancy!" Xavier squealed, as he ran and then jumped into her arms as she bent down and scooped him up. He held her tight and she replied in kind.

"Nancy," he uttered as if he was saying, Mommy."

"It's okay, Xavier. I'm here," she replied.

"Don't leave," he said, as her traumatic exit at his birthday party lingered.

"I won't leave you again," she stated, breaking every rule she knew as a therapist in favor of simply living for a change.

And, as she and Xavier became a united front, Wes walked through the door as if he was the star of a movie coming to save the day. But it was Nancy who had been the star and saved the day. He approached her without hesitation, moving in a manner that suggested ease and familiarity. They made eye contact – his brown eyes with her large blue eyes – and neither person saw anything that would dissuade them from moving forward with velocity.

While Xavier continued to be Nancy's second skin, resting his head on her shoulder, Wes did something that he had been thinking about for some time: he kissed her full lips. And those lips enthusiastically kissed back. Perhaps it wasn't the first kiss that new couples envisioned, but it was definitely memorable. Xavier started squirming after about five seconds, which brought Wes and Nancy back to the reality that there was someone physically between them. The absurdity of the situation made them both laugh.

"To be continued," Wes said.

"Definitely," Nancy grunted and chuckled as her legs now felt like two all dente strands of spaghetti.

Twenty minutes later, after Xavier led Nancy into his room to show her where he lived. Xavier talked and talked until he came to a sobering realization.

"Do you have a room like this in your house?"

Nancy glanced at Wes and then answered after there was no resistance, "Yes, there is a room that is larger than this that also has its own bathroom."

"With a bath?" Xavier asked.

"With a bath," she affirmed."

Wes came into the room after using the bathroom in the master bedroom.

"I'm gonna' go watch TV," Xavier said and then bolted out of the room after bumping fists with his father.

Nancy was sitting on one child-sized chair and appeared comfortable, so Wes folded himself into a mini tub chair since he sensed she had something heavy on her mind and he just wanted to be close to her.

"Hey," he said, as their roles as patient and therapist appeared to interchange.

"Hi," she said with half a glowing smile and a smattering of trepidation.

"What's on your mind?" he asked as he scooched forward but waited to hold her hands, respecting her space.

Nancy hesitated for a moment as the reality of his world sank in. Her interaction with his mother-in-law was bad. It was so toxic that it made her anxious about what the future would bring. She heard a lot in her practice over the years, with most of the personal download focused on toxic people making other people's life difficult.

Wes could see a change in Nancy and inherently knew why she was struggling, which gave him even more confidence.

"I'm concerned about her," Nancy stated.

"It's not going to be a problem," he quickly replied. This ease of reply caught Nancy off guard, and she was befuddled. She wasn't sure if he knew who she was referring to. It would have been typical of him to assume Lena, not her mother Marlene.

And while Nancy was formulating her next question, Wes cut through it all as he reached out and held both of her hands.

"She's moving to Florida."

"Full time?" she asked.

He nodded, "Full time."

"What?" she blurted as her tan face turned red. "Are you fuckin' with me?" as the Long Island girl in her emerged.

Xavier floated in like a butterfly.

"I like your house," he blurted while looking at Nancy.

"I like it, too," she countered and smiled, regaining her composure for the moment.

Xavier took off as the adult conversation resumed.

"If you haven't figured it out, he really likes your house," Wes said.

She smiled, "Yeah, I'm fond of it, too." She then thought what he was thinking.

He smirked as he continued to hold her hands.

"I really like it, too. It has always felt like a relaxing, safe place to be."

"So, let's get back to Marlene," Nancy said. "When did all of this happen?"

Wes gently flipped his left wrist and replied, "In the last hour."

Nancy gasped. "That bitch!" And then she realized what she just said and lifted her left hand to cover her mouth. "I'm sorry."

"No, no!" he countered. "I can't stand that woman. She made my life extremely difficult over the past decade.

"So, why do you think they're making the move? Weren't they already half-year Florida residents?"

Wes sat back in the child's chair as much as he could.

"Yes, they have a place in Boca Raton. I think, if I know Marlene like I know Marlene, she would rather quit than lose."

Nancy thought about the word 'lose' and then asked, "Lose?"

"Lose," he replied. "She saw us together as a family at Xavier's birthday party. I knew it then as well."

"You did?" she asked. "I thought I was the only one with that view."

"No, I think we all felt it. Even Marlene," Wes explained.

Therapist Nancy returned, "So, instead of staying around and taking joy in watching you and Xavier be happy, she would rather be somewhere else and acting like it isn't happening?"

"Yeah," Wes said. "That's pretty much it."

"She is so self-absorbed."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Wes concurred. "But she is gone. That is what was bothering you, right? You weren't concerned that I was not over Lena yet?"

"Well, if I had any doubts about that, you just took all that away a few minutes ago."

That was his cue to continue where he left off before Xavier started squirming. Wes tried to scoot closer in his restrictive mini-chair but decided to pull her closer after that was unsuccessful.

They kissed again, as time stood still, and place became irrelevant.

"So, you like my house," she stated as they remained close.

"Yes, it's great."

"What about all of the work you've done here?" she asked.

"The house will sell in five minutes and my boss won't care where I work. He'll just want me to be happy."

They kissed again.

"Do you want children?" he asked.

"I have a kid," she replied.

"Would it be too forward of me to say that we should get married?" he asked.

"Aren't we supposed to say I love you first?"

"I love you," he stated and then kissed her.

"I love you, too" she said.

"Now can we get married?"

She smiled, "I don't see why not."

"Is that a yes?"

"Aren't you gonna' get down on one knee?" she asked.

He leaned forward and knelt down on his left knee, the tub chair still affixed to his butt.

"Will you do me the honor of marrying me?" he asked.

"Are you sure?"

He replied, "I've learned through this process that I don't have any time to waste. So yes, I'm sure."

"Yes," she replied, "but ask me again when you get a ring just to make it official.

"Done. Are you gonna' keep your name or take mine?"

"I could do a hyphen," she replied.

"Or just change your middle name to Hollins. What's your middle name?"

"Michelle. I never liked that name, so I'll be happy to get rid of it."

"Anything else?" he asked.

She flashed a devilish smile.

"I'm with you on that," he replied as they passionately kissed. They broke the kiss a few minutes later, "We should probably pick this up later," he said.

"Yeah, probably not appropriate to do this in here," she agreed as he stood up and the chair ejected from his ass and bounced on the floor.

"I might have trouble walking until then," he added as he came behind her and rubbed against her.

She felt behind her and replied as her eyes widened, "I'm not even sure how you balance with that tri-pod."

"Practice," he replied.

"I bet," she countered as they walked out of the room and took their first steps in their long life together.
