???
By mid-afternoon, Dad’s out grocery shopping, and it’s just Mom and me. She’s in her recliner, foot propped up, flipping through a magazine but not really reading.
“You, okay?” I ask.
She smiles tiredly. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just bored out of my mind.”
I sit beside her, adjusting the pillow under her leg to make it more comfortable.
She watches me quietly.
Then her voice wavers with emotion.
“I missed you,” she says.
I swallow. “I’m right here.”
“No,” she says, shaking her head gently. “I mean the years before. When you left, I missed you terribly.” Her eyes shine alittle. “Please don’t leave again. I don’t want to lose both my boys.”
The words hit like a blow to the sternum.
I reach for her hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And for the first time since Matt died, I mean it.
She squeezes my fingers. “Good. Because I need help, and your father is useless with laundry.”
I snort. “That I can handle.”
So, I fold clothes. Wash dishes. Vacuum the living room.
Do the small things that used to feel pointless, the ones that now feel like proof of my resolve.
Mom watches me fondly, with a proud look that both steadies me and makes my chest ache.
???
I don’t text her much. Since she had stopped coming to the house anymore.
Just small updates.
Lily ate her whole lunch, that I made today.
Your reading trick worked, thanks.
She misses you.
Claire replies back with:
Thank you.
Glad she did well.
Good job.
These small exchanges keep things from feeling awkward between us.
And I know it eases her mind, because she always asks about Lily, even when she pretends, she’s just checking in casually.
