I would like to thank Randi for her editorial genius and story assistance.
All sexual participants are over 18.
The ring on the doorbell was unexpected; it woke me from a moment of hazy sleep. "Mummy, somebody's at the door," ny cheeky little daughter Ginnie yelled as she tugged on my dress.
"Yeah sweetheart, I heard."
It had been a long day, work was tiring enough but grading papers was boring as hell.
I dragged myself up and walked to the door. Opening it cautiously, I found a couple of police officers standing anxiously staring back at me.
The male officer said softly, "Are you Mrs. Dunstan? Mrs. Nadine Dunstan?"
"Yes," I muttered, grabbing the door frame for support, a dreaded fear tugging at me.
"Your husband is Mr. Bradley Dunstan?"
"Yes." I felt my knees tremble, my heart rate raced. I could see the look in his eye.
He looked past me, peering inside. "Is there somebody inside with you now?"
"Just my daughter. Why?"
I watched anxiously as he moved nervously from foot to foot. "Is there somebody you could get to come over? A neighbour, a friend, or something?"
Now I was really getting scared. "No, not right now, please, you're scaring me. Just tell me."
The two officers exchanged nervous glances, before he said haltingly. "I'm sorry to inform you, your husband was involved in a car accident over on Hutchinson about an hour ago."
The female officer rushed forward and slipped her arm under mine to help support me. I could feel the door frame splintering under the crushing grasp of my fingers. "Is he all right?"
"Ma'am I am afraid he has passed away. He died at the scene."
"Nnnnnnoooooo," I screamed.
Suddenly the door no longer held me up. I couldn't see, darkness overwhelmed me.
When my eyes opened, heavy and murky, the bright lights stunned me. I glanced around, my eyes moving slowly. Why was I in a hospital? My mother sat beside me, her hand clasping mine. As I opened my eyes, I ran my tongue over my lips; they felt dry, chafed.
Suddenly my mother wrapped me in her arms. "Oh god, Nadine, you're awake."
"Could you get me a drink please, Mum?" I mumbled drowsily.
She quickly searched, found a plastic cup and ran to get me a drink. As she came scooting back into the room, a nurse followed her.
She walked up with her note pad. "Good to see you're back with us Mrs. Dunstan. How are you feeling?"
I sat up enough to take a drink from the cup Mum held. It was then I noticed the drip in my arm.
"What happened? Why am I here?"
The nurse and Mum exchanged anxious glances before Mum grabbed my hand grasping it tightly "Do you remember anything, Love?"
I tried to get my mind to focus, something, it was fuzzy but I seemed to remember police. "I don't know. police, something about Brad."
Then it hit me. "Brad, a car accident."
Mum nodded. "Yes, sweetie, do you remember about the accident?"
"Where's Ginnie, Mum?
"She's with your father, dear. They're at our place. Don't worry, he will take good care of her. You know how much she loves Grandpa."
"Is Brad okay? Is he going to be all right?"
I felt her warm soft hands squeezing mine. "Honey, he died, the car accident. Sweetie, he's dead."
I remembered, the police. "No, no, Mum, it must be a mistake. He has to be okay. I can't be a solo mum. What about Ginnie?" I wanted to stay strong, but the tears flowed strongly.
"Nadine, It's going to be okay. Everything will be fine. We will help, you know we will."
The world started spinning again, I couldn't see clearly, my eyes filled with tears, stinging painful tears. My side hurt as my body shuddered, wracked with sobs I couldn't hold back.
I threw my arms around Mum, holding on for dear life. "Brad, how did it happen?"
"Honey, it was just a stupid accident. Some idiot tried to overtake a truck, the truck swerved, the driver lost control and crashed into Brad's car. Honey, he wouldn't have known anything about it. If it's any solace, it was instantaneous."
Why couldn't I stop crying? A doctor came in and the next thing I knew darkness sucked me back into the murky darkness of despair.
The funeral was a wet rainy day, umbrellas of all colours brightened a solemn occasion. There were tears. I remember falling over on the wet slushy grass. Endless hugs, people, some I didn't even know. Continuous endless condolences. "Sorry for your loss." "Brad was such a loved and respected man, he will be missed." "Call me if you need something." On and on it went.
Mum and Dad organised everything, even the wake. The house full of people, inexhaustible plates of food. I walked from condolence to consoling hug in a daze. All I wanted was them gone. Please, god, I preyed, "Just let it be over."
Finally it was, the house was empty, just Ginnie and me.
I walked around for days, a constant blur. Mum was amazing, she was there every day. She wiped my eyes, she held me in her arms. She held us both, because the more I cried the more Ginnie cried. She was only six, she didn't know, she didn't understand. She kept asking. "When's Daddy coming home?"
That was the hardest bit. "Sweetheart, he's not coming home. Daddies in heaven."
She cried, I cried. It was hell.
Slowly the fog lifted. I went back to school, Ginnie went back to school and we started to find our way in the world. School, supermarket, home. That was my routine. At first people came every day to visit, to see if I needed anything. Trays of food flowed through the door. Parcels were left at the door. Slowly, as the days drifted by, they stopped coming. Nobody wants to visit with a whiny tearful widow.
Christ, a widow. I was only 32.
The pressures of the world quickly started to catch up with me. Yes, Brad and I had life insurance, but we were young, it wasn't really enough.
Mum and Dad helped out where they could, but they were retired, they weren't wealthy. Brad's parents were not much help. They lived at the other end of the country and they definitely weren't wealthy.
The insurance money helped, but as I took stock, I sat at the kitchen table, the stack of bills piled up. What could we do without? Newspapers, gone. Sky TV, gone. Sunday lunches with the girls, gone. Magazines, gone. Chocolates... no, oh hell no. They were essential, they were staying.
Slowly, I whittled the pile down until it was almost achievable. Ginnie came in and saw me, head in hands sobbing softly. "Don't cry Mummy, it will be okay."
Opening my arms, I welcomed her onto my lap. "Of course it will, sweetie. It's going to be fine."
Her wet cheeks pressed against mine. "Mummy, I could deliver papers, Billie does, and he gets paid lots. I could help out."
I laughed, hugged her tighter. "Thank you baby, but we'll get by. It wouldn't be fair to steal Billie's job."
*****
Shopping, god I hated it. When Brad was alive, I used to buy whatever I wanted, now I walked around with my little list and I sought out the cheapest brands, the supermarket brands. There were no treats, Okay, there was chocolate, but that's not really a treat. It's a necessity.