Dax: What about… desperate housewife with enough rings on her fingers you’d think she was a pawn shop?
I laugh, shaking my head.
Me: I’m going to put you out of your misery. It’s just a woman.
Dax: Boring!
Me: Boring is good sometimes. I think I’ve had enough excitement for a while.
I hit send before I realize what a downer I just was.
We’ve had a good week.
He hasn’t mentioned our conversation about finding the right person since the night of the Harvest Festival last week, and neither have I.
It was strange. He had that look again—the one I can’t decipher. Then he made a simple, albeit moving, statement, but it sounded like a confession.
“It was all in my head,” I tell myself when my phone vibrates again.
Dax: Are you referring to Rory forgetting your name when you ran into him at the grocery store? That excitement?
As I place the vase on the breakfast table by the windows, I’m relieved he didn’t attempt to “fix” me by giving his advice. This is what I need.
To get my mind off the past.
It’s been almost a whole year.
It’s been almost two years since we received Mitch’s diagnosis.
Sighing, I shuffle up to my office. Taking a seat at the desk, I pick up a picture of us at Mitch’s college fraternity’s formal. It’s a little blurry since we were both pretty drunk when we snapped the shot. I only framed it because it reminds me of a simpler time.
College parties.
Sweatpants to class.
Naps whenever we felt like it.
Mitch and I were carefree. We stole kisses in the halls, the courtyard, every chance we got. Every day felt like a whimsical walk through rainbows. Behind closed doors, we were hot.
Sensual.
We were in tune.
After we were married, we got pregnant with Jacob almost immediately, so we had many responsibilities right out of college.
It changed us, in good ways.
“But also bad.” I set the picture down, shaking off the negative thoughts I hardly ever had about our marriage before moving to Sunnyville. Before watching Zach with Willow. At the barbecue, he tended to Willow, anticipated her needs out of love, his gaze filled with so much adoration. My mom and Andrew. My dad with his wife Izzy. They all share that same level of affection. It’s obvious to those around them how much they love each other.
It’s been a while since I’ve had that kind of love. The kind you don’t question. The kind that makes you hopeful.
Mitch and I had it, especially in the beginning. After Jacob, he started working a lot. The fights started slowly after that until we argued so often it started causing a rift between us.
Things were better after I went back to work. I had something else to focus on, something to give me purpose outside the home. I was part of the world again.
But we still had our problems, and even when our fights were over, they weren’t erased.
It’s marriage, though. It’s not a science. Every day in a marriage isn’t always a success, but Mitch and I had many good days. That’s what’s important.
My phone vibrates again with a message from Grayson’s fiancée Sidney, giving me a link to the magazine she runs, Modern Family. We ran into each other at the school drop-off, and I mentioned to her that I’m in need of a part-time job. To my luck, she’s hiring photographers, which is what I’m interested in.
I took a few photography courses in college to complement my public relations major. I worked as a marketing assistant at a few PR firms at various times over the years, but my heart has always been in photography.
After Jacob was born, I picked it up as a hobby and shot his baby pictures. I took some family pictures for people in our neighborhood as well and fell in love with photography all over again.
I thank Sidney for her help, and instead of unpacking the rest of the boxes that line the wall, I spend the next few hours searching the magazine’s website. I click through different issues and read through pieces to try to get a feel for their brand.
With every article, the excitement inside me grows.
Before I realize it, it’s time to pick up Jacob from school. I stretch my arms over my head and get up, shaking the soreness from my back and legs from sitting too long.
As I drive, I run through the different articles I read, contemplating Modern Family’s style and the experience they’re creating with stories on families, parenting, and more.
It’s exactly the creative outlet I need.
When I pull up to the house with Jacob, I see our new neighbor again. She’s walking through her front yard in a pencil skirt and high heels, talking on her phone, seemingly uncaring that her heels are digging into the ground like she’s aerating the grass.
I peer down at my plain leggings and flannel shirt. It’s been my outfit of choice lately, but it’s Mitch’s shirt. Being away from our home, his shirts are the only things other than pictures that make me feel close to him.
She hangs up with a groan, waving her arms around, mumbling to herself.
“Hey there.” I wave, rounding my SUV.
She whips around, then walks toward me on wobbly feet until she hits concrete. “Hi, I’m Sienna.”
“Clara.” I shake her hand—more accurately, her fingers. I imagine it’s how a queen might offer her hand to inferior peasants. Nonetheless, I offer her a warm smile, the one I learned from growing up in Sunnyville, where mostly everyone’s your friend.
She jumps when Jacob stands next to me. “Oh, there’s a tiny human.”
“I’m Jacob.”
She nods, setting her sunglasses on top of her head, and I get a better look at her. She seems to be a few years younger than me, and her brown eyes are wide with what seems to be… horror. “Hello, I’m Sienna.” She hesitates, then shakes his fingers like she’s shaking hands with a tiger paw, terrified that it’s going to eat her.
“Mom, I’m going to
