“How are you guys?” he asks, taking a sip of his coffee. “Christopher, did you get that promotion?” he questions a man to my right.
“Sure did.” The man nods, smiling from ear to ear. “It’s the first good thing that’s happened to me since my Beth died.”
“Good, good. I’m happy for you, man.” Ryder sets his cup of coffee on the floor near his feet. He leans forward and claps his hands together. “As you all can see, we have a new member. Blaire, this is everyone. Everyone, Blaire.”
“Hi.” I wave awkwardly.
“Hello,” they all echo.
“Shall we go around and introduce ourselves?” Ryder asks. They all nod. “Please say your name and one thing about yourself. Anything you choose. I’m Ryder, and I hate the color orange.”
“I’m Donny, and I love the color orange.”
Ryder laughs and says to me, “Donny likes to spite me.”
The next person speaks up. “I’m Debra, and I love to knit.” She proudly points to a gray scarf wrapped around her neck.
The next eight people introduce themselves and then Ryder looks at me. “Your turn, Blaire.”
I nibble on my bottom lip as I think. “I’m Blaire,” I begin, “and I’m happy I decided to come here.”
Ryder grins. “Good, Blaire. You see, here we’re not defined by our grief. We’re just people like anyone else.”
My lips lift and spread. I’m smiling, and it’s real.
This … this is going to be good for me. I feel it.
We all chat for the remainder of the hour. I find out that Amy has two little boys and she’s newly married. Peter, the man to my left, is in college and studying astronomy. I’ve never met anyone like him before, and I find his stories about the stars to be amazing. By the time we leave, I feel happy and not once, through the whole hour, did I think about Ben. I was normal.
I’m walking to my car when Ryder jogs up beside me.
I pause outside my car and tilt my head up at him. “I just wanted to say goodbye,” he says. “And see if you’re coming back next week.”
“Yeah, I am. I … This was nice. It was nothing like what I expected.”
“That’s the point.” He grins, and his eyes crinkle at the corners. I’m finding that Ryder is an upbeat, always-looking-on-the-brightside, kind of person. I wonder who he lost, though, and if he was always like this. “I’ll see you next week.”
“Bye,” I say and lift my hand to wave. “Whoa,” I cry suddenly when I feel dizzy. I sway unsteadily and hold a hand to my forehead.
“Hey, are you okay?” Suddenly Ryder is right there and he wraps his hand around my arm, like he’s ready to hold me up if I begin to crumble. His touch is electric and I feel it even through my thick coat.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I mumble, waving away his concern. “Just got a little dizzy, that’s all.”
He lets me go and looks me over. “You should’ve had a donut,” he jokes. “The sugar would’ve kept this from happening.”
I laugh. “You’re probably right.” I unlock my car. “Bye … again.”
“Bye.” He laughs and walks away, toward a white Nissan Murano.
I head straight home.
My mom is waiting right by the door for me. It’s like she has spidey-senses or something.
“How was it?” she asks before I can even close the door.
I lock the door and lean against it. “Good,” I answer. “I enjoyed it.”
She’s positively beaming at my words. “I made dinner. Lasagna.”