Page 9 of The Boss Upstairs
Samuel.
He shoots me a tight smile as he takes a seat next to Charmaine, who has recently lost her husband. Charmaine is old, about eighty or so, and her husband was eighty-six. Don’t get me wrong, but I don't feel too bad for her. The man was old. He lived a full life.
She was friendly last week, telling me that she too, had lost her husband, and could understand how I felt. Really? I wanted to say.Was your husband only thirty-four? Were you carrying his unborn baby? Did you cause his death?Of course, I already knew all the answers. Her husband had died of a heart attack.
Her situation is nothing like mine. I don’t want her anywhere near me.
Samuel, on the other hand, I can relate to. His sixteen-year old daughter committed suicide two years ago, and he has since gone through a divorce. Now, that’s just as fucked up as my situation.
He can sit next to me.
The members trickle in slowly as we all nervously fidget, check our phones and make awkward small talk. Last week, there were eight of us. I wonder how many people will show up today.
When the clock strikes five minutes past seven, Deanna officially starts. I steal a glance at Samuel. I feel so sorry for him. He seems like a kind person, an attractive well-dressed man. He seems so pulled together, but I’m sure that inside, he’s as messed up as I am.
“Hello, everyone,” Deanna cheers. “How was everyone’s week?”
We all nod and smile tightly.Good. All right. Not bad.Are we all telling the truth? Or are we all full of shit? I really don’t know.
Deanna perks up. “So, we have a new member here today,” she announces, her hand tilted toward the young woman.
The woman in question is a small somber brunette. She stares at the floor, slightly uncomfortable. I know exactly how she feels. I was there last week. The drill is to tell everyone your name, and quickly explain who you are grieving, but only if you feel comfortable doing so.
Her name is Sarah, and she has recently lost her older sister to breast cancer. Her sister was only thirty-five. Unfortunately, she is not only dealing with her sister’s death, but she’s recently found out that she also carries the gene responsible for her sister’s cancer. She’s considering a double mastectomy.
I shake my head. Now there’s a sad story.Beat that, Charmaine.
Why is the world so horrible? We just never know what’s around the corner. That’s why we need to try to live every day to the fullest. That’s a lesson I want to teach Ethan.
Following introductions, we all tell everyone about our week, about a step forward we’ve taken. Mine was taking Ethan to the zoo. This is the kind of thing I dreamed of us doing as a family, and it hurts to do this kind of thing now. But I need to, even if I have to force myself to, because we can’t just mope around all day in our loft. I need to give Ethan a full fulfilling life.
Following the meeting, we linger and engage in small chit-chat. I don’t particularly enjoy this part of the meeting, yet I don’t want to bethatwoman, the anti-social weirdo who runs off as soon as the meeting is over.
Samuel smiles at me, and approaches slowly. He has a nice smile, the kind that comes with a dimple. My heart breaks for him. I couldn’t imagine ever losing Ethan.
“How are you today?” he asks.
“Better than last week,” I tell him. “How about you?”
He smiles again. “Better. Sacha and I went on a small trip downtown last weekend. Caught a show and stayed overnight. Had a dip in the pool. It was nice.”
I smile, happy for him. Sacha is his daughter, the one who’s still alive. She’s sixteen, the same age her older sister was when she took her own life.
“That’s great. What show did you see?”
“Lion King.”
My whole being lifts at his words. I love Broadway. Donovan was never a huge fan, but he still took me occasionally because he knew I loved it. “I love that one,” I tell him. “I haven’t been to a show in over two years.”Not since Donovan’s passing.
His smile fades. “That’s too bad… why not?”
“Well, I used to go with Donovan…” My words trail off.
“Uh,” he falters. “Do you have friends or family who could go with you?”
“Well, I do have the one friend who’s into it. She actually works in theatre. I suppose I could consider going with her.”
He smiles again, fine lines etching the corners of his eyes. “Well, you’re always welcome to come with me and Sacha.”
