“He looks like he’s ready for bed.” Ranger Dan chuckles. “You headed back to the cabins? A few of us were going to grill up some steaks for dinner.”
Steaks sound good, but the turkey soup Lily made the other week and froze for future meals sounds even better.
“I’m going to head over to my mom’s. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to pop over there.”
He nods. “I don’t blame you.”
Mom needs more and more pain management, to the point Lily has had to check in regularly with the new nurse, who comes to the house three to four times a week now. Between the nurse and Lily, my mom is never alone, much to her annoyance.
Christmas is around the corner, and I’ve decided this year I’m going all out. The big tree, wrapping the porch in lights—the colored ones because white is too boring—then possibly getting a few of those inflatable cartoon-looking blow-ups merely to tease Max.
My mom always made Christmas special for me, despite the limited funds, and she went all out with the décor, too. Today, everything is monochromatic and beige, as if Christmas colors don’t exist. In some way, it makes me sad that the color in Christmas has been sucked out and replaced by more aesthetically pleasing color palettes. I get it, but still. The young child in me misses it.
I shake my head at myself, opening the driver’s door, and haul my ass into the truck.
Lily hasn’t mentioned Christmas,I tell myself as I pull out of the training facility and drive to my mom’s. She didn’t go home for Thanksgiving, so I’m under the assumption she’ll be here for Christmas, and the thought excites me.
My plan is to use all my vacation time up before the end of the year and spend it with my mom and Lily. There’s a trail I want to take Lily on—one I think, or at least I’m hoping, she’ll enjoy. Maybe relax a bit.
The drive to my mom’s is unbearably long, and even Max gets restless in the final minutes before we reach the house.
Midafternoon sun hangs high in the flawless sky, the rays behind the house breaking apart in a hazy halo outlining the roof. As I turn my truck off, the house up on the hill feels tranquil against the vivid blue backdrop framing it.
Lily’s old car, that I’ve become entirely too familiar with, sits parallel to the garage and I stare at it, slightly annoyed I no longer get to drive her to work.
Hustling, I dart out of the car and let Max out, who darts up the stone steps. I follow, taking them two at a time and not slowing until the front door is inches from my face.
It’s quiet inside, not even the mumbling of game show sounds behind it.
Perhaps it’s my training, but I pause midbreath, listening for the distant footsteps you can often hear from outside when someone is shuffling through the kitchen, but there’s nothing. I offer a couple knocks on the door, then open it.
Max slithers through my legs and moves through the house, looking for Lily while I glance around the clean kitchen. A vase of eucalyptus sits on the table, which piques my interest. My mother isn’t known for her appreciation of anything green or floral, and Lily hasn’t put any flowers out since she’s been here.
Moving forward, I lean into the sprigs sticking out of the clear glass. It smells clean and cool, the aroma oddly soothing and slightly sweet. I smile, strangely comforted by the smell and the idea Lily felt at ease in my mom’s home to add this decorative touch.
There’s a stillness wafting through the house, and I move to the living room to find my mother’s chair empty and her blanket missing. I turn to check the rest of the house, but movement outside snags my attention, and I’m surprised to see my mom sitting outside on the back porch in a new chair.
“Mom?” I ask, opening the sliding glass door.
She looks over her shoulder at me and raises a glass of green juice. “Noah, what are you doing here?”
My eyes flick quickly around the rest of the porch for any signs of Lily, and disappointed, I rack my brain for her schedule, wondering if I’d messed up or if she’s taken an extra shift.
Max makes a lap around the chairs before resigning to sit at my mom’s feet. He rests his head over his front paws, then lets out a sigh and closes his eyes.
“Figured I’d check in. Max had his training today, so he’s wiped. Was thinking Lily was here.”
She cracks a knowing smile, the gentle sun highlighting the frail lines carrying out from her mouth. But while the warm light helps some, her skin is even more translucent and sagging over her cheekbones. Dark circles rim her eyes and when she blinks, it almost feels like it’s in slow motion. She tilts her head back against the new chair seeking the sun, and her lips part slightly as if to breathe it in. Her still posture betrays her exhaustion as she sits enjoying the sun.
“Nice chairs,” I tack on after observing her, and I swallow the emotion I’m fighting to keep off my face.
“Lily brought them home today. She said she went to pay for her car, and it was already taken care of.” She holds my gaze as I walk around to sit in the chair next to her.
They’re crafted from some sort of teakwood, the surface smooth with a golden-brown finish. The wood grain is pronounced, making them have that backwoods-rustic, campfire feel, and I lean on the reclined slatted backrest and prop my forearms on the curved armrests.
Hell. These things are more comfortable than I thought. Wide and contoured, they are perfect for sinking into with a good book—this is why Lily gravitated toward these. They’re great for my mom to sit out here and read, drink in the coolair, and invite her to relax somewhere besides the living room’s lumpy recliner.
I stare at my mom wrapped in several blankets with a beanie hat over her head and clench my jaw. I should’ve made more of an effort to make it easy for her to be outside. She’s always seemed content to read her romance novels and watch game shows on TV. I didn’t think she may want more, but Lily did.
