“But we should’ve asked first.”
I shrugged, popping another capsule in the coffee machine. I was going to need another one of those if I needed to stay awake a bit longer. While I’d been getting changed, I hadn’t missed the fact that my bed was made and the scent of fresh linen filled the air.
Reaching out, I took Mom’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “It’s fine, Mom. I’ve been avoiding it for as long as possible. If you hadn't done it, it’d probably still be there in six months. Now, I’m starving. Let’s eat,” I said, redirecting the conversation.
After we finished eating one of the best meals I’d had in a long time, I’d helped Mom clean up, biting back the yawns. With a full belly, all I could think about was crawling into bed, curling up under the covers and sleeping for a few days but I couldn’t be rude. I’d done that enough this morning, I refused to hurt Mom again.
“Are you ready to get out of here, sweetheart?” Mom looked at Dad confused. “Hayden looks exhausted. He’s probably ready to go to bed.”
“Oh, yes. I just need a minute,” Mom replied as she started to move at a pace that my tired eyes couldn’t keep up with. “Hayden?”
“Yeah, Mom?”
“There’s a box of things here that I didn’t know what you wanted to do with or where to put them.” Mom indicated to the single box in the corner.
Heading in its direction, part of me was worried. If Mom didn’t know what to do with it, how the hell was I supposed to. Briefly I considered just telling her to toss the lot, but curiosity got the better of me.
“You don’t have to do that now, Hayden.”
“Now’s as good a time as ever.. Besides, if I don't do it now, it’ll probably still be sitting there next time you visit.”
“You mean, next time we call before dropping by unexpectedly?” Dad added with a grin.
Pointing at Dad, I smiled. I’m glad we could all laugh about it. If not, things would be fucking awkward.
Lifting the box, I set it on the coffee table and flipped open the lid. I don't know what I was expecting but it wasn’t what I found. Sitting on top was one of my station t-shirts. A threadbare shirt Cassidy had claimed and worn to bed on nights I was at work. Taking a deep breath, I set it aside and kept digging.
It didn’t take long before I realized why Mom had struggled with this box. This was the Cassidy box. A bracelet. A scarf. A couple of photo frames with pictures of us smiling and laughing. A book she was halfway through reading, the bookmark still sticking out the top. Unpacking it hurt. It hurt so bad.
Setting things down on the coffee table as I went, it wasn’t until I got to the bottom that I felt like I was going to be sick. Crammed in the bottom of the box, probably crushed in ways it should never be crushed, was the white suit bag.
“What’s that?” Dad asked naively as I pulled it out and attempted to brush away the crinkles.
“Cassidy’s dress,” I choked out.
Glancing in Mom’s direction, she had her hand over her mouth and tears streaming down her cheeks. She knew exactly what was in the bag.
“Wh-what do you want to do with it?” she asked nervously.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Skye got rid of the rest of her clothes but I just couldn’t…”
“What is it?” Dad asked again.
“Cassidy’s wedding dress,” I clarified for him, the words clogging my throat.
“Oh,” Dad replied looking sheepish.
“It’s not that I want to keep it, it’s just I can’t imagine someone else wearing it. She never got to, so donating it, I just can’t,” I tried to explain but even I knew it was a flimsy excuse. “And I know that makes no sense…”
“Sweetheart,” Mom cooed, moving towards me and taking the bag from my hands. “It makes perfect sense.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Have you… have you…”
“Have I what?”
Mom shot Dad a look I’d seen her give him a thousand times growing up. The shut-the-fuck-up look that would make lesser men cower. “Have you looked at…”
