Slipping silently into her room, I close the door behind me with a gentle click and rest my back against it. Her bed is still made, her robe draped over the chair she has resting in the corner. The wardrobe is still cracked open, and I see some of her favorite sweaters hanging in color order. Finally taking a deep breath, her familiar scent of strawberry and vanilla hit my nose, and suddenly there’s no stopping the tears from cascading down my cheeks.
I frantically wipe at my face with the back of my hand, trying my best to take a silent, steadying breath. Taking a couple steps forward, I reach my hand out and gently smooth out her comforter, sniffing louder than I had intended to. I slowly sit down on the edge of her bed, almost as if she were asleep init and I’m trying not to wake her up. The sob comes out of me unexpectedly, and I reach for her favorite pillow and clutch it to my chest.
It’s been four days since I last cried, but I haven’t wept like this since the cops showed up at my door. Yes, the grief sneaks up randomly, and sometimes at the most inconvenient of times, but this? It feels like someone took a blade to the careful stitches I’ve slowly been placing to hold together the cracks in my heart.
And now that the floodgates have opened, I can’t close them.
Not even when I hear a gentle knock on the door.
“Mom?” Claire pushes the door open and peeks her head inside, her eyebrows furrowed. Winston pushes past her and jumps onto the bed, using his nose to nudge my hand before he rests his head on my knee. “Are you okay?”
I frantically wipe at my face again, trying to collect myself. “I’m fine, baby. Go back to your room.”
Claire closes the door, shutting the three of us in the bedroom. She walks over and crawls onto the bed, pulling the pillow from my grasp. Claire carefully sets it back in its spot before turning back to me. She doesn’t hesitate as she crawls into my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck and resting her head on my shoulder.
God, this feels familiar,I think to myself as I sniffle and hold her tightly.
“I miss her, too,” Claire whispers, and I can hear the strain in her words like she’s trying not to cry, too. “I miss them both.”
“Oh, baby,” I mumble, squeezing her tighter. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She shakes her head before pulling back to look me in the eye. Reaching out a hand, she brushes the tears off my cheeks and places a kiss in their wake. The action causes my chest to tighten. I give her a sad smile, sliding her out of my lap so I can climb off the bed. She watches as I walk over to the smalltable on the other side of the room where Neve used to put her makeup on. Flipping open the small jewelry box, I grab Neve’s favorite necklace; a silver chain with a butterfly pendant that has a C engraved on the back of it. Turning around to face my daughter, I watch her eyes widen once she notices what I’m holding.
“Do you remember getting this for your Aunt Neve?” Claire nods. “She wore it every single day, never taking it off for any reason. Butterflies are a symbol of transformation and hope. Their life cycles are a reminder that change is a natural part of life.” I sit beside her on the bed. “And she would constantly tell me that whenever she had a bad day, or life felt too hard, that thinking of you always made her feel better. You were the biggest reason that Neve had such big dreams.”
A single tear falls down Claire’s cheek as I clasp the necklace around her neck. “I know that we’ve both been having a hard time in her absence, both their absences, but I want you to remember that she’s not truly gone.” I grab her hand and place it over the pendant. “She is always with you.”
Claire throws her arms around my neck, sniffing as she squeezes me tightly. I rub one hand along her spine while the other cups the back of her head, gently teasing the tendrils of her hair. When she pulls back, I wipe away her tears like she did for me before placing a kiss to her forehead. Winston whines beside us and stands, licking Claire’s face while she squeals and tries to get away. Laughter fills the room as she slips off the bed with Winston following right behind her.
“How about we go shopping a little early?” I stand from the bed and rest one hand on her shoulder while I open the door with the other. “I need a good pick-me-up.”
“Can I get two Lego sets?”
“We’ll see.”
“You go on ahead,”I tell Claire once she’s climbed out of the car and secured her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll grab the snacks and things, okay? I’ll be right there.”
Claire says nothing, just nods before running off towards the field where some of her teammates stand around the coach. I need a moment alone to give myself a pep talk and remind myself to not go off on any of the moms in the stands today. Most of the girls at the sleepover last night were girls she plays with, which means these moms were the ones talking about me.
Just as the thought escapes me, I realize I forgot to ask her what the girls on the team were saying to her or how they were being mean. I make a mental note to ask her about that later tonight, and to keep a close eye on the girls around her. I can keep my mouth shut when it comes to the moms talking about me, but if any of the girls treat Claire poorly? I’m not above speaking my peace to protect her.
Being the bigger person all the time is getting exhausting, anyway.
I lean into the car and grab the paper bag off the seat, and set it on the ground by my feet. I then reach for the box of oranges and apples and juice boxes, struggling slightly as I grip the handles.
“Can I get that for you?” I hear a familiar male voice ask from behind me. My head smacks against the roof of the car in my surprise, and I cup the back of my head as I fully stand and turn to see Levi stationed a few feet away.
The concern is apparent on his face, and I can only imagine the surprised and terrified look that is on mine. “What are you doing here?”
“I went by the office to see if you were free for a bite and Leanne said you’d be down here,” he answers. My teeth grind together; of course Leanne would pull some power play move like this. “I didn’t realize you played. I’d have come and watched you sooner.”
“Oh, no, I don’t play,” I rush out with a wave of my hand, but I don’t offer any more information.
It has only been mere hours since I told Claire I wasn’t ready for them to meet yet, and now here he is, dressed in jeans and a white v neck wearing a backwards baseball cap like he is meant to be here—and I can’t even be mad at him about it. But now here I am, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, stuck between a rock and a hard place, because what the hell am I supposed to do? Tell him to go home?
“Can I grab that for you?” He asks, gesturing towards the box I was trying to lift out of the backseat.
I glance between him and the box before releasing a sigh. “That would be great, yeah.”
