My mind tripped back to my amazing in-laws, and how important they had become to me, especially with the terrible situation we found ourselves in. Liz and Jim McManus had been more than just in-laws to me ever since Randy and I first started dating, and I owed it to them to put on a brave face. Even though they lost their son, they had been instrumental in bringing me through my grief that I worried they didn’t get the chance they deserved to grieve themselves. The shame made it difficult to even look into their eyes most of the time. It was unbearable to walk around with all the different forms of guilt inside me. I knew I had to get better for everyone’s sake. Today can be the beginning of a brand new start.
As I got into the shower I could hear Randy's voice. "I married one hell of a woman, you know that, baby?" I smirked as I massaged shampoo into my scalp. Those are the memories I never got used to being reminded of. All of the little things he would to do to make sure I knew he loved me, that he belonged to me. I wished I had told him more how much they meant, how much he meant to me. I miss you so much it hurts. The hot water rushed over my pink skin, while steam floated out over the curtain. I stood, holding myself, letting the water run over my body for a few moments, before mustering up the courage to step onto the cold tile floor.
Without even drying myself, I tossed my hair up in one towel and then wrapped another around my dripping body. Looking in the mirror over my sink, I was disgusted at the black, puffy circles around my eyes, and how hollow my cheek bones were.
Skulking back into my room, shuffling my feet along my fluffy carpet, I grabbed my makeup and turned on my flat iron. I sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the closet door mirror and began to apply eyeliner. This had become a habit from the first time I slept over at Randy's room in the fraternity house. I would always take my shower first, and while I got ready, Randy would wash up. The only place for me to be able to do my primping was on his floor, sitting Indian-style in front of a full-length mirror propped up against the wall Randy bought for me after I complained about not being able to do makeup in a fogged-up mirror.
Once my eyes were just the perfect blend of smoky gray and black, my natural curls burned into submission, I took one last look at myself in the mirror, again disgusted with my appearance. I still felt like an empty shell. It was terrible to see on my face. The lack of sleep, improper nutrition and guilt had started to take a noticeable toll. I grabbed my blush and bronzer, blending my cheeks more to hide my uncharacteristically pale skin. One last look in the mirror, I closed my makeup kit. This is going to have to do; makeup can only hide so much.
I rummaged through my closet, trying to find something to wear. All the way in the back, I found a dress that still had the tags on it from right after Randy got deployed. I had a lot of free time back then, and usually filled the void with shopping with Cali, mostly for things I had yet to wear. I yanked the dress off the hanger, slipped it over my head and pulled on a pair of wedges. Good enough.
I sighed and trudged down the stairs to the freezer, taking my black-labeled savior out of his icy home. I was going to need all the help possible to put on a brave, put-together face, and whiskey was my known choice for liquid courage. Here goes nothing. I took one big, deep breath and headed out my front door.
2
When my feet planted on the McManus’ front porch, a rush of warmth folded over me, almost like putting on a comfortable sweater. I always loved my in-laws, and I was truly happy I made the effort to come. Jim was hitting the big six-zero. The number had never fazed him; as he would put it, “you’re only as old as you feel.” His optimism was something I always admired, but his best feature was his laugh. He was always cracking jokes, even making himself roll on the floor from time to time. Jim had one of the best booming, barreling hoots I ever heard. He was known to cry, kick his feet up and cry hysterically during some of his fits. He was a big, burly man with a laugh that matched him pound for pound, bellowing through the huge smile he always wore.
I couldn’t even see Jim for a while, not after everything that happened. Looking into those deep brown eyes, seeing that big grin; even through all of it, the suffering, the grieving, Jim still smiled. I figured that was his way of holding onto the last few precious memories he had with his son. They were best friends, and had identical laughs, eye, and mouth.
As Liz opened the front door, I became wrapped into the warm embrace of lilac melted in orange cleaner. I hugged her soft body to me, telling her how beautifully her new bouncy bob hair cut complimented her face. Holding her was like taking in a breath of fresh air, her loving arms washed away my nerves for a moment. Her round eyes and pink cheeks perked up as she pulled away just enough to look into my face. “Margret, you look stunning!” She beamed, making me twirl around once for her. “It’s so nice to see you out of sweats.”
I smiled at the accolade, looking down at my sea-foam sundress and cork wedges, “I needed to start acting and dressing the way Randy would have wanted. He was always so happy. We should be celebrating the fact that we were lucky enough to have him.” The foreign words choked out from the back of my throat. Luckily, Liz didn’t seem to notice how forced they were. I didn’t like talking that way, it wasn’t in my nature, but Liz ate shit like that up, and it was amazing to see her this happy because of my words.
Before she formed a response, another pair of warm, familiar arms curled around my shoulders from behind, making my face light up like a little kid seeing Santa at the mall. I spun around and for a split second, I felt like I was looking into Randy’s eyes again. “Hi Papa Bear!” I threw my arms around his wide neck to whisper, “Happy birthday you old fart!” right in Jim’s ear. I couldn’t help but giggle as Jim beamed down at me, chuckling, his cheeks already turning rosy from the whiskey lingering on his breath.
“Mags, I am so glad you came,” his voice was joyous, and his arm was still round my waist. “Look at you! This is the Mags I know and love! Happiness looks great on you.” He released me, only to fill my hand with a beer, which had been waiting on the side table. I let the amber liquid flow down my throat, praying for a little liquid courage to keep my spirits up. I loved being with my in-laws, but the way that they acted so well-adjusted freaked me out. A lot. Hopefully, the beer will start to kick in soon.
I looked around the room at all of the familiar faces, most of which I hadn’t seen since the funeral, and before that, our wedding. The whole McManus clan was here, mingling with Jim’s work friends and some of Randy’s fraternity buddies. Since Randy lived so close to where we went to school, Liz and Jim became the second parents to any college kid looking for a hot meal, especially Walker. Even after so many years, they all knew where to come for good food, drinks and company.
The chatter from the living room was almost deafening. Randy and I were married right in the backyard, under an awning that Jim, Walker and Randy built together. Their backyard was tight, but it felt so cozy with all of our loved ones around. I could not have imagined a more perfect day.
I couldn’t believe it had only been a little over a year since I held so much happiness. Now I was an empty shell, and seeing everyone washed all the bittersweet memories over me again. The feelings warmed my heart and burnt my eyes all at the same time, as the memory of Randy’s funeral hit me like a ton of bricks smacking me in the face. Grieving, screaming, laughing, and crying; it was shocking how flashbacks would take over like that, throwing me for a loop. One moment remembering moments of pure bliss and the next getting run over by a dump truck filled with misery. I had to grab onto the back of the couch for balance until the terrible image finally left my mind.