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“Yeah.” She bolts up off the couch, almost spilling her wine, then downs it and sets the empty glass on the table before she rushes off to the kitchen.
She returns with a pen and a pad of paper. She’s really serious about this checklist thing.
I, too, finish off my wine. I have a feeling I’m going to need a bit of a buzz to get through this.
“We can do different categories and figure out something you have to accomplish in each of them before you can sleep with Ansel.” She sits down, leaning forward with the pen in hand.
“I told you it’s not just about fooling around with him.”
“Sure, but isn’t that the real prize?” She arches an eyebrow, and my face heats. “The way I see it, you need to reclaim your life. Let’s start with four goals: one for yourself, one for your house, one for your community, and one for your future.”
My head drops back. “Nina, I don’t know.”
“You’re doing this, Collins. As your best friend, I want to see you happy. But if you rush into this thing with Ansel too fast, it’s going to crash.” She holds my gaze, and I nod. “Great, glad we’re on the same page.”
“As if you gave me a choice,” I grumble, even if I understand her point.
“All right, for your reclaiming your sense of self… maybe you could cut and dye your hair or something? Get a fresh new look?”
I finger the end of my French braid. “I don’t want to change my hair.”
“Agreed. You have amazing hair. That was the wine talking.”
I chuckle.
“How about you take yourself on a date? Go to a restaurant and eat alone. Or take yourself to the movies.” Her eyes are wide and excited.
“I didn’t even do that kind of thing before Caleb passed away.”
We’re both quiet for a moment, trying to think of an alternative.
She’s staring at the paper, then her head bolts up, and she gives me a huge smile. Yeah, I’m not going to like whatever she’s about to suggest.
“Whhaaattt?” I whine.
Her gaze flicks to my hand, and she cringes. “Maybe the goal should be for you to take off your wedding rings.”
I hold up my left hand, looking at my wedding rings. I cover it with my right hand. Neither of us says anything, and Nina patiently waits for my reaction.
My eyes burn, but I blink back the tears. It’s not as though I haven’t thought about it, and I know it has to happen at some point. I can’t wear them for the next fifty years. A new husband wouldn’t really understand me wearing my dead husband’s ring. But the idea of sliding them off, only to be looked upon when I’m feeling nostalgic, seems impossible. I haven’t taken these off since we got married. Not when I sleep. Not when I shower.
The anxiety racing through me confirms that Nina is right. I’m not at all ready to move on to a new romantic relationship.
She gives me one quick nod and silently writes it on the piece of paper.
We work through the other three categories, and after another half an hour, I have the final list in my hand.
Collins’s Reclaiming Her Life Checklist
Sense of self: Stop wearing wedding rings
House: Redecorate one room
Community: Host a get-together
My future: Write Caleb a letter
I draw in a deep breath, reading them over.
