he drained them in the sink. A little milk, a little margarine, that yellow packet of powder that was supposed to be cheese, and voilà, he had an anniversary dinner fit for a…
Fit for a widower on his wedding anniversary, he thought as he dumped the entire pot of macaroni and cheese into a big chili bowl. He grabbed a spoon and the glass of Chardonnay he had poured himself and carried it into the den, shutting off the lights behind him. In the dark, Grant set down his feast and picked up the videotape he had left on his chair.
“Watch two years after I’ve been gone,” it read in his wife’s neat, floral handwriting. Ally had made a whole box of these tapes, “just in case.” Most of them were for their daughters. Each tape was labeled with the child’s name and the occasion for which she was to watch it. The next tape in the box was for Hannah’s sixteenth birthday, which was four months away.
It was another two weeks until the anniversary of Ally’s death, but Grant thought it would be okay if he watched a little early. It was their wedding anniversary today, and he thought he deserved it. He popped the tape into the VCR and turned on the TV.
Grant sat in his favorite chair, the one Ally had reupholstered for him in green-and-blue plaid for Father’s Day three years ago. He hit Play on the remote and sat back to watch the TV in the darkness as he ate his mac and cheese and drank his wine.
The screen filled with light and Grant couldn’t resist a bittersweet smile. He had come to terms with his wife’s death, but seeing her like this still made him sad…and happy at the same time.
There she was, his Ally, sitting right here in this very chair. Her knees were drawn up and she was barefoot, wearing shorts and a tee. She wore a ball cap to cover her baldness from the chemo, but she looked great. She didn’t look like a woman who was dying of breast cancer that had metastasized throughout her body.
“Hi ya, Grant,” she said smiling.
“Hi ya,” he whispered setting the bowl of macaroni and cheese down. He couldn’t resist smiling back.
“Well, I guess if you’re watching this tape, I’ve been gone two years.” She met his gaze, and he could almost feel her in the room. “Because I know you,” she said wagging her finger at him. “And you would never cheat. You would never break the seal on this tape until you were supposed to.”
“That’s what you think,” he said under his breath. “Two weeks early, so there.” He felt a silly impulse to stick his tongue out at her.
“Anyway,” she said, almost as if she was conversing with him, hearing him reply. “I hope you’re doing okay. I hope the girls are happy, healthy.”
“They’re fine,” he said softly, unable to take his gaze off her. She had been so beautiful, his Ally, with her blond hair, practical short pixie haircut and hazel eyes. After the cancer and the mastectomies, she had worried that he would no longer think she was beautiful, but that hadn’t been true. He had loved her, loved her body, right until the moment she drew her last breath. Even now…
“The reason I made this tape is that I’ve been worrying about you, Grant,” she continued. “I don’t mean that I’m worried about whether or not you’re taking care of the girls. I know how capable you are. You’ve got the laundry done.” She began to count off on her fingers.
“Folded and placed in baskets labeled with each girl’s name,” he murmured.
“You’ve probably got homemade meals in the freezer, labeled and everything.” Ally laughed.
He laughed, too. Ally knew him so well. Last night they had eaten spaghetti and meatballs. The sauce had come from the freezer in a disposable container with the date labeled in permanent marker.
“You’ve probably got the garage cleaned out, the rugs vacuumed. The girls’ rooms are probably neater than a pin—even Hannah’s—and I know what an accomplishment that is.”
Grant slid up in his chair drawing closer to the TV, as if somehow he could be closer to Ally. He missed her so much.
“And I know you still drop off the dry cleaning every Monday and pick it up on Wednesday on the way home from Becka’s violin practice.”
“Thursday,” he said. “Mrs. Jargo had to change the lesson to Thursdays because she has her hair done on Wednesdays now.”
“And I know the girls’ homework is done on time, birthday gifts for parties are bought and wrapped and ready to go on the right day. I even know you probably got Jenna to make Halloween costumes.” Again, that warm smile, that smile that seemed to envelop him like one of her hugs. He felt a tightness in his chest. He missed her hugs.
“But…” she continued as she pointed at him, “that’s not what I’ve been worried about. I’ve been worried that you aren’t taking care of yourself. Sure, I know, you get your hair cut every three weeks, your teeth cleaned every six months and you always iron your shirts on Sunday nights while you have family movie night. But what about you, sweetie? You’ve got to be lonely.” She paused. “And I know you don’t know what to do about it.”
Grant held his breath, wondering where she was going with this.
“So I have a plan,” Ally said, perking up. “And I know you’ll go for it because I know how much you like plans. How much you need plans.”
Grant shifted in his chair. A plan? She had a plan for what?
“The reason I didn’t tell you this before…when I was still here, was because I knew you wouldn’t listen to me. You wouldn’t be able to deal with it. But now time has passed, sweetie. I’ve been gone two years and it’s time for you to move on with your life. You deserve to be happy.”
Grant didn’t like the sound of this. A part of him wanted to hit Rewind on the remote and just watch the beginning of the tape again. But he couldn’t help himself. He had to hear what Ally had to say now.
“I think it’s time you start dating,” she said looking him right in the eyes.
He jerked back in the chair.
She put up one hand. “I know, I know. You can never love anyone like you loved me. You don’t want anyone else. Don’t need anyone else. Well, I’ve got news for you, Grant. We all need someone. And if the roles were reversed right now, if I was sitting in that plaid chair listening to you say these words, I might not like it.” She paused. “But I would know you were right.”
Grant just sat there, staring at the screen. Never in a million years had he expected this.
Ally wanted him to date other women? He couldn’t believe she was saying these things, couldn’t believe she would leave a tape to tell him this. But that was his Ally, all right. She was a planner just like him.
“Now,” she continued. “I know this is going to be hard. Hard for you, hard for the girls. But give it a chance.”
“Date?” Grant mumbled. “Who would I date? Who wants a man who lives on a principal’s salary with three girls?”
“I know, I know,” she said almost simultaneously with his thought. “Who would date you, a teacher with three girls?”
“A principal,” he told Ally proudly. “I got the principal’s job last year when George moved to Maine.”
“So…” Ally said carefully. “I’ve thought this out. I know you’re going to sit around for weeks saying no one would date you. Saying you wouldn’t know who to ask if you wanted to go on a date. I’ve got that planned out, too.”
She stretched out her thin legs, and leaned forward in the chair. “Jenna,” she said softly. “I want you to date Jenna. And, Grant, I think you’ll fall in love with her.” This time it was Ally’s smile that was bittersweet. “I think you’ll fall in love with her and marry her. I want you to marry her.”
Grant grabbed the remote control, certain he had not heard right. Jenna? Ally’s