The Between Years

with papers to grade to notice on nights when nothing good is on.

    I never hear anything from Randy's family-except for his father and occasionally his mother-which is no great surprise to me. Sometimes people just need someone else to blame, or a punching bag, and if they want to place it on me then I suppose I can't stop them. They had a year to clean that house up and place it on the market, so they should shoulder some of the blame. The property finally did sell, and to a rich Torontonian just like Randy's dad had predicted. I suppose they won't be able to do anything else with it except to build a new house in the old one's place. I hope it's a beauty.

    Technically, I'm single now, but that depends on how you look at it. In the eyes of the law-and very much in my own eyes-I'm still married. And until he is declared legally dead, our marriage contract is still binding. And that's perfectly fine by me. I intend to honor it. No matter how angry we were with each other during his final days, I mean to uphold my commitment as his wife.

    But I know that that principle doesn't hold true for everyone; I know that for a fact. Girlfriends I'd lost touch with since I'd been married renewed their ties with me. Some of them are single (and hopeful!) and others live with their husbands or partners with seemingly little commitment, and others have been through divorces. Kids have always been dragged into them too. The common bond that they all share is that they missed their casting call for Sex in the City.

    They take me out sometimes, either to lunch during the day, or more often to a bar at night. One of those singles clubs. I watch them in action, which is amusing to see, even if they're not particularly aggressive. They play coy to let men try and pick them up and more often than not they give in. Like there was any other point to the charade. You see, it's a game they play like cat and mouse, only I much prefer to call it mouse and cat.

    Sometimes I wonder why they bother. I mean, aren't they a little old to be playing games with boys like they're still in junior high? It seems that they might be doing it for attention or a self-esteem boost. Not that I mean to judge, but I suppose my attitude is that of someone who has been down the aisle, had a child, and would still have all of those things if not for several tragic circumstances. Maybe they can't understand it that way, but I don't mean to speak down to them either.

    Moreover, I feel uncomfortable when they push me into meeting a guy, like it should be foremost on my mind. I freeze up like a statue each time. Don't you want to meet someone? They always ask me. If I did, I certainly wouldn't be doing it that way; I wouldn't search for love online either, but to each her own. I met Randy naturally and we fit together like a glove. He never needed an opening line or needed to appear to be suave. I was more than happy to approach him on my own.

    But really, I don't want anyone else. I wear my wedding ring to every club they take me to, and don't think that it doesn't stir up their scorn. Maybe they're jealous because I don't need to try as hard to get attention, but maybe it's because I'm simply able to make my own choices and stand by them. I may be young to say that I've already had my one and only, but that's really just the way it is. We vowed to stay together until death do us part, and until someone can prove to me that Randy's really dead, that's how it's going to be.

    Like the principle, Randy and I wanted to impress upon Kenny: a promise is a promise, and once made it is meant to be kept.

CHAPTER 35
    When Kenny died, Randy and I sat around in the days before the funeral and discussed our greatest disappointments. Our chief disappointment was that we would never see our little boy grow up. He wouldn't do the things that little boys and young men are expected to do. As a new mom, I figured each stage would be different, that each would offer something special, and that his passing stripped that away from us. After seeing the Spiderman costume at Randy's grandparents' house, I realized that dressing Kenny up for Halloween was yet another phase that we'd missed out on.

    We wouldn't get to see him go on his first date, take his first trip by himself, get married or have his own children. Sometimes I close my eyes and let my imagination wander so I can picture him doing all of the things that death stole from him. Parents naturally want more-or at least as