The Other Side of Grief

Hi everyone. Thanks for all your helpful feedback on my writing. As with many of my stories, this one is a really slow burn. I want to develop the characters and their relationship. No worries—sex will be part of that development. But I'm not rushing it.

David walked into Abbott-Northwestern Hospital and sighed. "Ugh, I hate this place," he muttered aloud as he made his way up the staircase and down the hallway to the non-descript meeting room. Over the door was painted in soft tones, "Grief is a journey." He stared at it for a moment when he felt the presence of someone behind him. He turned and a man a bit taller and a bit younger than his 40 years muttered, "Yeah, but the destination is a mother fucker." David chuckled aloud. "You can say that again."

The two men walked into the room set with 10 chairs in a circle and sat down next to one another. A moment later, a middle-aged woman—perhaps 50 or so—with long silver hair, came in and welcomed them. "I'm Jean. I'm a nurse and a grief counselor. I'd like to welcome you to our grief group."

David groaned inside and folded his arms. He was 40 years old and wanted to be anywhere else. But as Jean explained how the eight week group worked, she then invited people to introduce themselves and say why they were there. One older woman of 75 had just buried her husband of 50 years. The next two women also buried their husbands, one from a heart attack, one from cancer. A younger woman spoke—her husband was killed in a drive by shooting.

Then it was David's turn. He was measured and factual, his voice not betraying the overwhelming heartache he felt. "Good evening. My name is David. I'm 40 years old. I live in South Minneapolis with my 10 year old son Evan and my seven year old daughter Lily. My wife, Stephanie, was out for a bike ride a year ago. She was turning onto the Parkway and a truck didn't see her. She was killed instantly. I never got to say goodbye. We met the first day of college. I was 18, she was 17. We were best friends. I've spent the last year trying to keep my life together for my kids whose mom was gone in an instant. But I was out for a run two weeks ago with a friend and we ran past a pawn shop that sold guns. And for the first time in my life, I looked at the gun and I wondered if it would be less painful to just end it all? I didn't of course. I would never do that to my kids. But I realized that I hurt so much without my wife, I needed some help. A buddy of mine is a doc her at the hospital; he told me about this group. So I figured it couldn't be all that bad, right?" He choked out a smile, but all the women in the group were staring at him intensely. It freaked him out.

David was a handsome guy: Just shy of six feet tall, 180 pounds, short curly dark brown hair with flecks of grey on the sides, sharp blue eyes, a muscular swimmers/runners build. He resembled the actor Bill Pulman. He was shy by nature; Stephanie had been the outgoing one. And a support group was the last thing he ever imagined doing in his life. But then again, he never dreamed that he'd bury his 38 year old wife either. Life comes at you fast.

After David spoke, the man he walked in with went next. He was a bit taller than David—maybe 6'2"—and beefy. Not fat. Just husky. He had shaggy dishwater brown hair, green eyes, and a full beard that was well kept. He seemed to be a cross between a hipster and a lumberjack.

"I'm Jake," he said softly. It wasn't the voice David was expecting from such a burly guy. "I turned 33 last week. Susie, my wife—well, she wasn't my wife yet, we were gonna get married before..." he stopped and looked at David as the only other guy in the room. His eyes seemed to say, "throw me a lifeline." David subtly nodded at Jake, who noticed the gesture, nodded with gratitude, and kept going.

"Susie and I were planning on getting married already and then we found out she was pregnant. We were really happy planning for the baby and the wedding. About two months before Scout—that's our daughter, named after my wife's favorite character in her favorite book, To Kill A Mockingbird—was born, she started bleeding..." His voice trailed off and he looked down at his shoes. He took a breath and kept going.

"We went to the doctor and they said it was just a little bit of spotting and not to worry. But Susie kept bleeding and by the next week, she was in a whole lot of pain. So they did a bunch of tests and they found out that she had a really bad cancer in her cervix. They needed to get the baby out so they could treat her. So they induced Susie that night at Scout was born at 34 weeks and she weighed only 3lbs and 9oz. She was so little I could fit her in the palm of my hand. But wow, does she have some lungs!" Everyone in the room laughed, but it was short lived. It was a grief group. Everyone knew what was coming.

"So I had Scout in the NICU and they removed the cancer from Susie and started her on chemo and radiation right away. But the cancer was too advanced. And she died a week later. But I made sure she got to hold Scout. And I have that picture her in my wallet." Jake had tears streaming down his face and he pulled out a handkerchief to blow his nose. The women in the group were all weeping and Jake looked again at David. They felt a mutual bond—strangers— trying to hold each other up in this moment.

The group continued for another 45 minutes and concluded with some practical guidance about how to get some sleep during intense grief. David leaned over and whispered to Jake, "I notice that Jack Daniels is not on this list." Jake chuckled and it was the first time David saw his big smile. David smiled back. It felt good to find someone else who understood in his bones the intensity of grief.

The session finished and everyone began to leave. David and Jake found themselves at the door at the same time. Jake motioned for David to walk through first. "Thanks for spotting me back there," Jake said quietly. "I'm sorry about your wife," he acknowledged, more with understanding than with pity.

"You too," said David as they made their way down the hallway of the hospital. "My kids are seven and 10 and it's impossible. How are you doing with a newborn?" He asked Jake.

"Well, I don't sleep a lot," he said with a chuckle.

"I'm sure not," David said as they both laughed with understanding.

"But when we got pregnant, Susie's dad made us get life insurance. We thought it was dumb at the time—I'm 33, she was 34. But he's smart like that. And thank God we did. So when she died, I got the life insurance money and took a leave from my job for a year so I can be home with Scout. I never knew what people who stayed home did all day. But man alive! I'm not sure what I do all day either and I'm busy all the time! The cooking and the cleaning and the being with the baby and the errands and the laundry. Dude. She's six months old, she weighs like 13 or 14 pounds, and I'm doing laundry every single day! How is that possible?" Jake was smiling and David was laughing so hard that tears fell from his eyes.

They reached the parking lot and Jake's car. "Thanks for the talk tonight David. I didn't really want to come, but it wasn't so bad."

David smiled. "I agree. Good luck with the baby tonight. And I'll see you next week," he said smiling as he shook Jake's hand.

For the next seven weeks, David and Jake attended the grief group and learned various coping skills for the immense grief they felt over the deaths of their beloveds. When the final session ended, David realized that his friendship with Jake—even if they'd only spent time together in this group and walking to their cars afterwards—was a bright spot in his life. So after their final class, he decided he wanted to see if their friendship would continue outside the grief group.

"Jake, it's been really great to make a friend in this group... someone who gets what it's like..." his voice trailed off, but he didn't need to speak the words aloud; Jake understood.

"I was thinking it might be fun to hang out outside of this hospital. How would you and Scout like to come over this Saturday for a barbeque? I know she doesn't eat much, but I could grill up some burgers and corn for us. I'm sure Evan and Lily would get a kick out of hanging out with Scout." Why did he suddenly feel shy and embarrassed? He was inviting a friend over for a barbeque—what was going on?

Jake smiled his big hearty smile. "I'd sure like that, David!" he beamed. "What can we bring? And what time you thinking? Scout is still tiny enough she can sleep in her bucket car seat or in the Ergo, though I like to have her in her crib for the night."

David was thrilled. Wait—why was he so excited? "How about you come over around 4 o'clock? I'll text you my address. And you good for salad? You and I can eat it and Lily will have some. Evan is a little picky when it comes to food."

"Sounds good, David. Thanks for the invite," Jake said enthusiastically. Both men headed back to their cars feeling happy.

David spent the better part of Saturday getting the house ready, shopping, and playing with the kids. Evan was a quiet soul and wanted to work on a puzzle. Lily was more rambunctious and made David take them on a bike ride around the lake. When they got home, he plopped the kids in front of a movie and he took a shower to get ready for Jake and Scout.

The shower was David's refuge, his sanctuary. As the water ran down his body, he thought of Jake coming over and he smiled. And something in him stirred. What the hell? He thought to himself. His cock was getting hard! He realized as he was thinking of Jake's kind eyes, his bulky frame, his sexy beard, his cock got harder. David proceeded to stroke himself to a powerful orgasm, the intensity of which surprised him. One of the side effects of grief was a loss of sexual desire. In the 14 months since Stephanie died, he'd probably masturbated once or twice a month and it often felt like more than a chore. This felt... exhilarating. David shook his head. What was it that Jean the grief therapist said? Sometimes grief shakes everything up. Maybe this was just something on the other side of grief.

David got out of the shower, dried himself off, and got himself dressed. He found himself cheerful in a way he hadn't been since the day before Stephanie died.

Jake and Scout arrived at 4pm. David had forgotten how much stuff came with a baby, but Jake seem to have himself, the baby in her car seat, a diaper bag, and a stroller without much effort. As they made their way up to the door, David opened the door and Lily ran out to greet them.

"Hello baby!" she said immediately to Scout. David and Jake cracked up.

"You must be Lily," Jake said. "I'm Jake." She put her hand out to shake it and her eyes widened seeing how big his hand was. "Are you a giant?" she asked.

Jake laughed loudly and Lily giggled. "I'm not a giant Lily. But I do eat all of my vegetables." David laughed and invited them in. Lily proudly took the salad from Jake and brough it inside. "I'm gonna eat all my vegetables so I can get big like you!" They all laughed.

"Welcome," he said, taking the diaper bag from Jake. "You've met Lily. This is Evan. Evan, please come say to our friend Jake and his baby, Scout." Evan looked up from reading Harry Potter on the couch. He smiled and waved. He was never a chatty kid; but since his mother's death, he'd really retreated. Jake sensed that Evan needed his space, so he waved back. David was impressed by Jake's reading the situation.

They headed to the back yard, where David had guacamole and chips waiting, along with beer and juice boxes for the kids. He also got out Lily's old vibrating seat for Scout to sit in. "Should we try this, Scout?" Jake asked strapping her in. "I'll hold her hand," offered Lily. Scout smiled and Lily talked to her and held her hand.

David turned to Jake. "Beer?" Jake graciously accepted the beer and clinked it with David's. The conversation flowed nice and both men found themselves relaxing and enjoying themselves in a way they hadn't since both of their devastating losses. They talked about their families and work. David was a senior project manager for the Airport Commission. Jake was an environmental scientist and spent his time making sure the Mississippi River was healthy. The told stories about their in-laws and navigating parenting with grandparents of their deceased wives. And the commiserated about normal life things as single parents: grocery shopping, laundry, and finding any moments alone. It was nice for both of them to be in the company of someone where you didn't have to explain everything.

David served dinner and Jake at heartily. "This is great, David!" David beamed. "My daddy is a good cooker," said Lily.

Jake smiled, "He sure is, Lily. You're very lucky. He's a nice daddy." David started to blush. Lily was content to sit with Scout while Jake and David sipped their beers and talked.

Soon, it was after seven and both dads needed to start bedtime for their kids. Jake gathered all of his and Scout's belongings as David sent Evan and Lily upstairs to change into their pajamas.

Standing in the doorway, Jake offered his thanks. "David, I really want to thank you for having us over. I had a great time. This is the first time since Susie died that I felt... normal. I really appreciate it." His voice was soft and tender, full of sincerity.

David smiled and felt slightly bashful. "Thanks man. I feel the same. Let's do it again," he said as he extended his hand to Jake. But Jake placed Scout's car seat on the ground and pulled David into a hug. David was startled at first but found himself melting into the bigger man's arms. Jake smelled so good, David thought. And Jake found himself tightening his hug; David felt great in his arms.

Holy shit! David thought. His dick was getting hard hugging Jake. And Jake was having the same response as he took in David's scent, a combination of minty shampoo and smoke from the grill.

Their intimate hug was interrupted by Lily who came bounding down the stairs and the men pulled themselves apart, reluctantly to both of their surprise.

They looked each other in the eyes and both found themselves smiling as they stared.

Lily started tugging on David's leg. "Daddy, I need my story," she asked.

He mouthed to Jake, "I'll call you." As he shut the door behind him, he found his heart flutter. What was going on?

Jake strapped a sleeping Scout into her car seat and mused a loud. "Sweet baby, it looks like we've made some new friends. Isn't that nice" He asked as a tear began to roll down his cheek. He was so happy to have met David, a man who seemed to understand him in a way he'd never felt before. And he felt so deeply sad for the reason they met. Then he thought of what Jean had taught them in the grief group: Wonderous things can happen on the other side of grief. But only if we open our hearts to it.

Jake turned on the car. "I guess it's time to open my heart, Scout."