I shuffle a few feet down the hall toward the kitchen.
“Kenny?” His voice comes filtering out.
Oh, thank God. I let out a nervous laugh as I round the corner and step into the doorway. “I thought something was wrong—,”
Except somethingiswrong. My words trail off.
Jake doesn’t look up. He sits against the cabinet, resting his wrists on his raised knees with his face lowered.
“What’s the matter?” My voice drops to a whisper. “What’s happened?”
He slowly shakes his head. And his face… when he lifts it, my heart creaks at the tears, his eyes reddened. “My… mymom, Ken.”
And his voice breaks. As if his heart has torn down the middle, the words come out in broken, stuttered sobs. “She was… I found her on the floor. And they – they came, and they couldn’t do anything.”
It becomes harder to breathe as I stare at him. At the empty kitchen.
“Ken.” His voice shudders again. “My mom’s gone.”
Liquid blurs my vision as I take a step, another. Drop down to my knees beside him as his mouth opens. It’s not a cry. Not a sob. Not a sound, as if something’s blocking his air, cutting it off.
“Jake.” I wrap my arms around him. He’s always so…big. Steady. Solid. But now, right now, he folds into me like a collapsed deck of cards, tears soaking my neck as he breathes in uncontrollable gasps. “I’ve got you.”
He’s heavy, but I don’t let go. My arms scream as tears stream down my own cheeks. “I’ve got you.”
There is nothing I can say. Nothing I can do to make it better. So I hold on, and I don’t let go.
“I didn’t even stay for breakfast.” He chokes on the words against my skin. “They said… she’d been here all day, Kenny. And I came home from school, and she was so still—,”
When he breaks off, I run my hand through his hair, disrupting perfectly gelled spikes. “You couldn’t have known, Jake. It’s not your fault.”
“I tried,” he whispers. “I tried to make them keep working. But they stood back, and I knew. She was gone, Ken.”
My heart beats, throbs, as I look up, take in the empty counters. The empty house. Even the colors look muted, as if Cora took them with her.
School ended hours ago. “Did you call anyone? Max?”
“Not yet.” He shudders again, takes a breath. “I just got back. I had to go to the hospital. She was… they had to do something to make it official. But I need to. I need to call… everyone. They left me a number for a funeral director. I don’t know what to… what to do.”
His voice moves from shaking to a flatness that scares me as he speaks. “Okay. Come and sit down, okay? I’m going to help, Jake.”
But his mom was his whole world. I choke back another sob, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand as he rises unsteadily. His hand wraps around mine, sudden tension lining his spine. “Don’t… don’t go? Please.”
I squeeze his fingers. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried. I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m gonna make you a coffee, and we’re going to call who we need to call. When you’re ready.”
“Okay.” He’s so pale as I sit him down at the table. “Maybe you could… sit with me? For a minute.”
“Yeah,” I whisper. My hand brushes his cheek and he catches it. Holding it, as his shoulders fold in and his body begins to shake again. Pulling up a chair, I sit beside him, my hand on his face and my forehead pressed against his shoulder.
“Don’t go.” He chokes on the words as he repeats them.
I’m not sure he’s talking to me. But I won’t leave him.
I won’t leave you.
I’m gonna take care of you.
Day 22 – Jake
