The Restoration Ch. 01

Victoria, for her part, also gradually befriended our neighbour, and the two of them occasionally had girls' nights without me, watching sappy movies with a bottle of wine and a tray of brownies. According to Victoria, Ana seemed to relish the distraction and the company, and my wife was glad to give her the occasional evening off from the turmoil in her mind.

One day, a couple months into working with her, I went over to help her swap out a light fixture. Mrs. Olszewski had had a very 1980's chandelier in her dining room, and Ana had purchased an antique one to replace it.

"I probably should have called one of Graham's electrician friends to help with this," she said as I started to disconnect the old fixture. "But I hate to bother them. They've already replaced the wiring for free, and they're all working for a living."

"I really don't mind," I promised. "I wouldn't do anything complicated, but swapping a fixture is easy as long as it doesn't need rewiring."

I looked over for a moment and saw she was fighting back tears.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

She took a deep breath. "It's stupid, but it's hard seeing you doing electrical work. That was Graham's thing, and he's not here to do it anymore."

"Do you want to talk about it?" I offered.

"I don't know," she said. "I'm just emotional, and I don't think there's anything specific to say. But I want to keep talking about him. I haven't told you much about him."

"I haven't wanted to bring it up," I admitted.

"I get that. Lots of people act like they're scared to bring it up to me. It's as if they don't want to remind me. Like I'd forget that my husband died! I need to keep his memory alive, and I want people to know who he was. I need to keep talking about him, and what he meant to me."

"I hadn't wanted it to seem like I was prying," I confessed.

"You can ask me anything that you want to know," she said softly. "I've grown to trust you, and if I don't want to answer something, I won't, but I won't be offended if you ask."

"May I ask what happened to him?" I ventured.

She nodded. "It was a Saturday night in February. He was playing hockey with his friends. They had a pickup game every week. He apparently was just skating back to the bench at the end of a shift and collapsed on the ice. His friends tried to save him, but he was just gone. The coroner said he was probably dead before he hit the ice. At least I know there wasn't any pain for him, and he went quickly."

"Do they know what happened?"

"The autopsy diagnosed that had a genetic heart condition called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy." Ana pronounced the complicated medical term easily. "It's a condition that kills the young and fit -- basically, your heart just gives out while you're working out. Graham was a fitness nut, he loved going to the gym. We both did.

"Locally, you might remember there was an OHL player, Mickey Renaud, that died from the same condition a few years ago in Windsor. But there are several other athletes that have been killed by this disease, enough that it has its own Wikipedia page. Graham had no idea his heart wasn't right. He seemed healthy, he hardly ever got sick. He was in great shape. We had our whole lives planned out together, and now he's just... gone. He went out one night to play hockey and never came home. He was only 28."

"I am so, so sorry." I was reeling from the injustice of it all.

"Thank you." She sighed heavily. "The last few months have been such a blur. I have no idea how I planned a move, but we couldn't back out of the sale. All the contracts were signed. Plus, he had life insurance, thank goodness. I renegotiated the mortgage with the insurance money, and I can afford to live here without his income. But there's this emptiness inside me now that just won't go away." She started crying again, making no effort to stem the tears.

"Would you like a hug?" I asked.

She nodded.

I grabbed a box of tissues from the coffee table and offered her one, then I put my arm around her. She moved closer to me, and I held her in my arms for several minutes, letting her sob.

Finally, after a long time, she pulled back. "Thanks for listening," she said quietly, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Her mascara was running down her face.

"Any time, and I mean that," I responded.

"It's a nice change from crying alone." She gave me a small, defeated smile. "I'm such a mess. What else do you want to know?"

"How did you and Graham meet?" I asked.

"We were high school sweethearts," she said. "I've known him since we were little. We grew up on the same street, in houses three doors down from each other. Our moms were in the hospital together delivering us; we were born only two days apart. Our parents used to say when we were little that we'd wind up married. We apparently proved them right."

"Wow."

"I never wanted to be with anyone else," she said sadly. "My university experience was similar to yours. I've never been a big partier, and since I had a boyfriend all through school, the debauchery of first year really passed me by, too. I dated Graham for so long that I don't know how to not have him. We married as soon as we both graduated. Like you, I've never really been with anyone else. I don't know what it's like. I don't want to know. He was the only man I ever wanted. I'd been planning to grow old with him since I was a kid."

I took her hand and squeezed it, and she smiled again.

"You can keep asking me anything you want when you think of things, but I think I'm done for now," Ana finally said quietly. "Let's get back to work."

The next few months flew by. We worked hard to get as much of the outdoor work done as possible before the snow flew, and as the damp chill of a southern Ontario November overtook us, I marvelled at what we'd managed to accomplish. The house still needed landscaping -- I wasn't a gardener and had no interest in helping Ana there. She had someone lined up in the spring to replace the roof and paint all the exterior woodwork, as neither of us had any interest in working that high in the air. But all over the house, as we transitioned back into working indoors, it felt alive again.

The first sign that our friendship was starting to grow into something more happened on a chilly Friday morning in November, six months after we'd met. I went over for my usual 8:30 AM start, planning to spend the day putting a coat of shellac on the baseboards in the master bedroom. The master was the first room Ana had set up when she'd moved in, and so logically it was the last room she'd wanted to have to take apart in order to refinish.

I hadn't really spent any time in the master bedroom so far, since it was the last room in the house that we'd worked on, and I had no other reason to intrude into her personal space. But as I first entered her room, I marvelled at the lovely view out the back of the house, facing a small wooded area like our bedroom next door, and then at Ana's bedroom set, heavy walnut furniture with a queen-sized bed.

We worked diligently for a couple of hours, painting the baseboards, trim and doors with shellac, making small talk, music blaring on the iPod. Ana's musical taste was comparable to mine, and we usually alternated between the 90's music we'd both grown up on and classic rock.

About mid-morning, we took a coffee break, and Ana came up from the kitchen with two steaming cups. There was nowhere else to sit, so I let her make the first move, but when she sat down on the bed, I saw no reason not to follow.

We sat silently sipping for a few moments before she broke the silence.

"This is the first time I've had another man in my bed since Graham died," she observed.

I chuckled. "Is that a sign of healing?"

Ana sighed. "My grief counsellor said most people take a year before they're ready to start moving on. At the time she said that, I couldn't imagine ever wanting anyone else. I just wanted him back. But I've moved through the stages of grief. There's still a massive hole inside me, and I don't know if it will ever be filled. But I feel the first stirrings of thinking about the future that's ahead of me again, instead of dwelling on the future I'll never get to have.

"Graham wouldn't have wanted me to wear black and mourn him for the rest of my life. When we bought life insurance and wrote our wills, we told each other that we'd both want the other to eventually move on and find happiness with someone else if one of us died. I just never thought I'd be doing it this soon. You have these conversations as a couple not expecting to ever have to act on them."

"I know what you mean, Victoria and I have had the same conversation," I commented. "If I died, I'd want her to eventually find someone else to make her happy. But if something happened to her, I'd be so lost. I wouldn't even know how to date anyone else."

"I don't know how, either," she responded.

"I know you were high school sweethearts, but I'm kind of in the same boat with Victoria," I continued. "She was the first woman I ever dated, even though I was 20 when we met. I was a late bloomer when it came to women. I still don't know how I would ever find anyone else. I never had to learn how to flirt or how to handle rejection, or how to show interest in a woman. I asked a couple girls out in high school and they said no. I asked Victoria out and she said yes. And we're still together. Even the idea of someday starting over terrifies me, though I know its unlikely."

"God willing, you won't ever have to," Ana said softly. "I'm not ready to download any dating apps yet, and I don't want to be set up. If someone asked me out tonight, I'd say no. But I'm starting to miss having a man around for the first time. Apart from you, I mean. I've never really had a lot of guy friends. You've been amazing to me, and I've enjoyed having you around so much, but you're a married man, and there are some things you can't help me with."

"Is there anything apart from the obvious one?" I asked.

Ana nodded. "I miss physical contact with another person most of all. Not in a sexual sense, just, having someone hug you throughout the day, cuddling before falling asleep, waking up in someone's arms. This is the first time I've ever been without regular close contact with someone else in my entire life. I miss it so much. This bed feels so big and empty when I'm sleeping alone."

"Do you want a hug?" I asked.

She nodded sadly.

I reached over and pulled her into me as she wrapped her arms around me. I breathed in the scent of her hair, floral and feminine, and felt the softness of her body enveloped by mine. I held her like that, sitting, for a minute at least, not speaking, just being together.

"Patrick?" she finally asked.

"Yes?"

"Do you like to cuddle?"

"I love cuddling," I answered truthfully.

"Would it... would it be okay with you and Victoria if we did?" she asked haltingly. "I don't have any other men in my life I'd feel comfortable asking, and I trust that with what I know about you, you won't see it as an invitation to go any farther."

I thought about it. As long as it remained strictly platonic, I decided it wasn't cheating, and truthfully, I felt touched that she felt comfortable enough with me to ask. I hadn't had a lot of close female friends over the years -- most of the women I was close with I knew through Victoria -- and I was really enjoying growing closer to Ana.

I nodded, and I climbed up the bed to the mound of pillows, laying down, and offering Ana my arm. She curled into me, breathing deeply, sighing with pleasure. I stroked her back, ran my fingers through her hair, and just tried to be with her, in the moment, letting her feel what she needed to feel. For my part, I was also feeling incredibly close to her, and enjoying the moment, as Victoria and I generally only did when I insisted on it.

We lay like that in silence for about fifteen minutes before Ana started to get restless, and soon we resumed our work.

That evening, I went home feeling mildly conflicted. I didn't feel like I'd crossed any lines, and I knew it was strictly platonic, but this was also the first time I'd had any close physical contact with a woman who wasn't Victoria, and truth be told, I had really enjoyed it. It had filled a need inside me that I hadn't realized I'd had.

Victoria sometimes made the effort to lay with me after sex for my sake, but her brain was too active after an orgasm to really enjoy shutting down, and I could always feel how antsy she was after her climax. She otherwise wasn't a very physical person, and while she had a healthy sexual appetite and initiated sex at least as often as I did if not more, it was mostly me initiating the daily hugs, kisses, and small moments of affection. I'd always appreciated that she tried her best for me, but I could tell it always took a conscious effort on her behalf. It had been nice laying there with someone who seemed to enjoy it as much as me, and for the same reasons, not just because she was trying to make an effort.

I made dinner for Victoria, and while I was trying not to let anything on right away, her legendary ability to see right through me came to the fore right away as we ate.

"You're awfully quiet today, Patrick. Is everything okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm really good," I answered. "But I had something to tell you."

I related what had happened earlier, emphasizing that it was entirely platonic and non-sexual. "Basically, she just really seemed to need someone today, and I was happy that she trusted me enough to be that person. But I also knew I'd have to tell you right away, and I won't do it again if you're not okay with it," I finished.

Victoria sat, thinking. "I'm glad she felt like she trusted you enough to come to you, and I'm glad you told me right away," she finally said. "I've never believed you would cheat on me, and I know we have a truthful and honest relationship."

"I wouldn't, and we do."

"I understand your need to feel close to someone," she continued.

"You do?" I asked.

Victoria shot me a look. "It's not something I personally need, but I can empathize. I know I haven't always been the best at giving you what you need in that area, and I'm sorry about that."

"It's okay. You are who you are, and I love you for who you are."

"I love you for who you are, too." Victoria paused, still thinking. "I don't have a problem with you friend-cuddling with her, as long as it doesn't go any farther," she finally said. "If it ever did, we'd have a problem, but I trust you. I don't have a problem with you going to friends for things I'm not good at. It's really not a huge amount different from you playing pool or video games with the guys."

"It's maybe a little different," I smiled.

"Sure, but I'm not jealous of something I don't want for myself," Victoria countered. "I can also imagine it would really be good for her, and for you. She's told me when we've been hanging out just how much of a difference you've made for her this year."

"What did she say?" I asked, curious.

"You've kept her from losing her mind," Victoria said. "Imagine being all alone in the house that you were supposed to live in with your husband. You know he had such dreams for the place, you know they both had visions of what they wanted it to be. Imagine feeling like you were failing to live up to those dreams and failing to honour a dead man's vision. She told me once that you're the only reason that some of her dreams, and his dreams, are still alive. You're respecting and honouring his memory, even though you've never met him. This might just be handy work for you, but for her, it has so much more meaning than that.

"And, remember, she's on a leave of absence from work for a year. She'd be alone forty hours a week if you weren't constantly over there. I'm happy for you to have found a kindred spirit and somewhere else you can be useful, but I think you've made a major difference in Ana's mental health without even realizing it."

I sat, dumbfounded. I'd never thought about it, but of course Victoria was right.

"So yeah, you have my permission to cuddle with her if she wants to, as long as it's not sexual. Keep making a difference in that poor woman's life." Victoria smiled. "You're a good man, Patrick Cullen."

"You're a wonderful wife, Victoria Cullen."

"I know." She smiled sweetly.

"I can't imagine what it's going to be like for her getting back into the dating pool," Victoria mused. "When you get married, you just assume that you're off the market for life."

"I sure did," I agreed.

"Would you even know how to date if something happened to me?"

"I'm fortunate enough that I've never had to think about the answer to that question."

"Did you know Ana's never even kissed another man?" Victoria asked.

"No, but I'm not surprised, given how young she and Graham were when they got together," I responded. "At least I can say I kissed a girl called Lindsay once, thanks to a game of 'Spin-the-Bottle'."

Victoria rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure I'd be a disaster dating," I continued. "I've asked out four girls in my life. Only one said yes."

"Ugh. Don't remind me." Victoria stuck out her tongue at me. "You never want to be the girl who says yes to the guy all the other girls said no to. Why did I say yes to you again?"

"Because I was devastatingly handsome and charming?" I chided.

"No, that couldn't be it..." She rolled her eyes.

"Because you knew I'd be a tech millionaire someday?"

"Yeah, I totally believed that the boyfriend who used to refuse to even own a cell phone would be a tech millionaire someday," Victoria laughed.

I shook my head. "Ana will get out there again someday, when she's ready. It'll be a year in a couple months. And I've seen a change in her over the time I've known her. I don't know if she'll ever truly get over it, but compared with the woman I met months ago, she's a lot happier. She smiles and laughs more, and she doesn't seem nearly as devastated as she was. She's closer to moving on than she was when she moved in, that's for sure."

"I agree," Victoria said. "I'd never push her, but when she's ready, I'd happily set her up with someone if we knew a single guy that would be good for her."

That day marked something of a turning point in my friendship with Ana. We started cuddling together on a regular basis, usually on work breaks for ten minutes here or there as we kept fixing up her house. Sometimes we'd keep up a steady conversation, sometimes we would lay still and silent. It wasn't every day, but most days we'd spend together, we'd wind up snuggled together at least once.

I noticed she wouldn't ever talk about anything serious while we were cuddling, but she could keep up a steady stream of chatter about her healing heart as we swung hammers or cut wood. I assumed that having a distracted mind allowed her to open up, and I really started to cherish the time we spent together each day as much as I enjoyed the restoration work.

Ana also started being more touchy-feely with me, letting a hand linger on my shoulder as I showed her how to do something, hugging me hello and goodbye, or greeting me daily with the Mediterranean kiss on both cheeks. I returned the gestures with interest, and I was surprised at how easy it was for me to show affection to another woman and have intimate moments together without it feeling sexual.

This New Normal took us past Christmas and into the new year. Ana and I took a few weeks off from working for the holiday season, and I noticed a full house of Portuguese family next door at Christmastime, with festive lights on all over the house and a roaring fire blowing smoke out the chimney we'd cleaned and fixed together.

When the new year dawned and the Christmas break was over, we went back to work again, though on a much slower pace. The snowfall outside limited what we could do, and after a couple of weeks, I was missing spending so much time with Ana. We'd spent so much of our lives together over the past months, but we'd never socialized as friends, so one snowy Friday night when I'd otherwise be banished to the basement while Victoria had her friends over to our house, I escaped instead, and went to a pub with Ana. I picked her up, and as she put her coat on, I noticed she had carefully done her makeup and was wearing a form-fitting black sweater and jeans. It was the first time I'd seen her in anything other than work clothes, and I thought she looked great.