Page 39 of Letting Go at 40

I sputter around the sip of margarita I’ve just taken. “Amelia,” I chide. When did she get so crass?

She leans forward again and narrows her eyes. “I’m serious. I don’t have time to get laid.” Watching me, her face sobers. “Do you miss it?”

I stare at her, knowing what she’s asking. In some ways, I should be offended at her blatant question. In other ways, I’m glad she asked because I need to talk to someone. While I’ve developed a strong friendship with River, and we’ve discussed aspects of grief, including the loss of sensual touch from another, I’m not always comfortable with her open approach to that conversation.

My sister is different.

“I don’t think I could ever have random sex.” My eyes lock on my sister for only a second before glancing away. I’m not judging. Her lifestyle is just different than mine. More complicated and complex in some ways. I’m used to Ben, being that he was my one and only for almost twenty-five years.

“No one says you have to do that.” Amelia takes a sip of her margarita, watching me over the rim. “But have you considered dating?”

“It’s too soon.”

“Says who?”

I know all the arguments about grief and how individual the timetable is. I’ll grieve forever for Ben, but there is a slippery slope to letting grief consume me. My grandmother’s words come back to me often. Ben would not have wanted me to wallow away in his loss but live every day. Dating isn’t exactly on the agenda yet, if ever, though.

“I don’t think I’m ready.”

“Don’t you miss companionship?” she asks.

“Don’t you?” I retort sharply. My sister hasn’t had a boyfriend in years.

Amelia watches me. “We’re different people, Anna. I’m good alone. You . . .” She pauses. “Not so much.”

I stare at her over the table.

“Your nature is to nurture. You love . . . love.”

“Why do I feel like that’s a bad thing coming from you?”

“It’s not,” she defends, lifting her brows in surprise. “I’m jealous of that capacity.”

My shoulders fall and I reach across the table for her wrist. “There’s someone out there for you.” Not that my sister needs to be completed by a man. That would be the last statement she’d make. But I believe in soulmates and Amelia has one somewhere.

“Well, he got lost somewhere on his way to me.” She waves, dismissively ignoring my sentiment. “Typical male. Won’t read a map. Won’t ask for directions.”

I laugh.

“I’m sure you have toys and all the playthings, but it’s never the same as the real thing.” Her voice drops on the last two words, innuendo clear.

I don’t inform my sister that I don’t, in fact, have toys or playthings. Ben and I were not like that. By most standards, Ben and I were rather vanilla. We didn’t experiment much. We didn’t mix up positions or locations or situations. Amelia doesn’t need to know these things, though.

“Yes, but . . .” What can I do about it? I already said no random hookups.

“If you aren’t comfortable with a stranger, you should be with someone you know.”

“Who are you? And what have you done with my sister?” Where is all this coming from? Maybe Amelia is feeling her own loss during this commercialized holiday. She doesn’t have a lover so she’s projecting on me her desires, or lack there of, in her life.

“Just hear me out. Go out with a guy friend. Go home with him. Let him get frisky.” Amelia rawrs, making a claw hand and scratching at the empty air before her.

I scoff. “I think the margaritas are going to your head.”

“Hey, weren’t you the one with the baby making plan for Autumn? Pick three guys. Let her sleep with each in order to become pregnant.”

I did suggest those things. “But Autumn did not go through with that plan. I didn’t know she only had one guy on her list.” That guy was Logan and he’s now her husband.

“Besides, all the guys I know are falling in love.” Zack comes to mind as he moved in with River late last fall.