His First Love Moved In, So I Moved On

1: 1

At eighteen, Tyler Delgado was so broke his first love had to split her instant noodles with him, and still he thumped his chest and swore:

"When I've got money someday, you won't even have to marry me. I'll take care of you for life, funeral and all."

Fourteen years later, Clarissa James got fired, dragged two suitcases to my door, and knocked.

"Mr. Delgado, I've come to retire early."

Tyler laughed so hard he had to bend over, and then he actually cleared out the bedroom with the best light in our marital home for her.

She called him Old Tyler. He called her old lady.

She said retirement was no fun without a partner, so he canceled his engagements to go grocery shopping, walking, and dancing in the plaza with her.

I asked him what this was supposed to be.

He held a peeled orange segment up to my lips, his tone like he was coaxing a child who didn't know any better.

"A guy makes big promises when he's young. Now that I can actually deliver, I've got to make good on them."

On our wedding anniversary, Clarissa took a fancy to a plot next to the Delgado family cemetery.

Tyler took the money we'd set aside for IVF and covered the cost of the plot for her.

"Cared for in life, seen off in death. That's what it means to see something through."

That night, I set his luggage down between the two rocking chairs sitting side by side.

"Retirement can come early."

"So can being a widower."

...

Tyler glanced down at the suitcase beside the rocking chairs and smiled.

"Maya Swanson, you're getting better and better at insulting people the roundabout way."

He reached out to pull me in, his palm still sweet with the orange he'd just peeled.

I turned aside and stepped clear, and his arm closed on nothing, the smile fading a little.

"Clarissa just lost her job. She'll stay half a month. Once she finds a place, she's gone."

Clarissa was curled up in the rocking chair hugging her thermos, and she answered lazily:

"Half a month, how's that enough? An old lady switching to a nursing home needs time to adjust too. Old Tyler, at eighteen you promised to keep me for life."

Tyler tapped the lid of her cup.

"Fine, you won't starve. But dump that iced americano, your stomach's bad."

Then he turned, brought the warm water and the ovulation meds over to my hand, and crouched down to press my swollen calves.

"Take your meds first. Nine tomorrow morning at the hospital. I've got it."

Our second year married, when the ovulation shots hurt so much I couldn't sleep all night, he rubbed my legs just like this, coaxing me, telling me no matter who came, he wouldn't leave, that the sky could fall and he'd stay with me first.

Because I remembered, that practiced bit of tenderness still loosened something in my chest.

But Clarissa slid a purchase order onto the table.

"Old Tyler, this plot really is nice, right next to your family's graves. Free meals while I'm alive, free ground when I'm dead. Retirement service has to be seen through from start to finish."

My eyes caught the figure, and my fingers went stiff.

A hundred eighty-six thousand.

That was the money for our next IVF cycle.

Tyler tucked the order into a drawer, his tone as light as if he were talking about dinner.

"I'm only fronting it. A plot like that rarely opens up. In a couple of months I'll put the money back. Pushing the IVF back one cycle won't matter."

"You took our money to buy her a grave?"

"Don't put it so ugly."

He frowned, then held the pill up to my lips again.

"Money sitting in an account isn't going to make us a baby. Miss that plot and it's gone for good. One cycle later on IVF changes nothing."

Clarissa stood up at once.

"Forget it, I won't buy it. I'm alone anyway. What does it matter where I die. If it comes to it, let the funeral home toss me in the trash."

"There you go talking nonsense again."

Tyler's face went dark, but when he turned to me, his voice softened.

"Maya, she's in a bad place lately. Didn't you always love that I'm loyal to the people I care about? Just think of it as helping me clear a debt I ran up when I was young. Once she's settled, I'll make up everything we're short on."

He finished, put the pill in his own mouth, and leaned down as if to feed it to me.

It was his usual trick for when I refused to take my medicine.

I turned my face away, and he laughed and set the pill back in my palm.

He was so good at coaxing me like this.

First he'd take something from me, then press back a little bit of the kind of closeness only the two of us understood.

As if none of it counted as serious, as long as I'd smile.

That night, after he watched me take the pill, he rubbed my legs again.

Clarissa called out from the doorway:

"Old Tyler, an old lady takes her hundred steps after dinner. She needs a partner to lean on."

Tyler looked at me, a little pleading in his eyes.

"Twenty minutes. I'll warm you some milk when I'm back."

"Don't be late tomorrow morning."

"If I'm late, punish me however you want."

He hooked my pinky and gave it a little shake.

An hour later, he sent a photo.

Clarissa on his arm, lined up in a row with the old folks dancing in the plaza.

The caption read: Day one of retirement, partner already on duty.

Right after, he sent another line:

"She's joking. Don't read into it again."

I poured the water that had gone cold in my cup down the sink.

At nine the next morning, the hospital's appointment reminder popped up right on time.

I sat at the dining table waiting until nine-thirty. The lock in the door never once turned.