“I think it’s going to be a lot of change for him in a very short time,” I replied. “He might need to process it with someone who isn’t you or me.”
“It sounds like you have some experience with that,” Zach said.
I nodded. “From my freshman year in high school all the way to my sophomore year at college. The only reason I stopped was because my therapist moved out of state, and I didn’t bother to find a new one.”
A soft cry came from the bedroom. Isabella stood. “That’s Sofia. She’ll be hungry. The boys will probably be awake soon.”
“We’ll make breakfast,” I volunteered. “Scrambled eggs and pancakes okay?”
She looked distressed. “You don’t have to do that.”
Zach shook his head. “It’s the least we can do. And it’ll keep me busy for a little while.”
Another louder cry sounded. “Then scrambled eggs and pancakes are perfect.” She hurried from the room to get her daughter.
Zach and I got busy getting out the ingredients for breakfast. I made the eggs, and he made the pancakes. Isabella came out carrying Sofia, and the two boys followed. They looked so cute with their sleep-tousled hair, rubbing sleepy eyes with their little fists.
Zach put a plate stacked high with pancakes in the middle of the table. I set out the bowl of scrambled eggs. Cody went over to Zach and raised his arms to be picked up. “Hey, little man,” he said with a gravelly voice. “You hungry? Want some pancakes?”
“Yay! Pancakes!” Cody cheered with enthusiasm. God, I absolutely hated what was coming.
Zach got Cody settled with his food while I helped Isabella by getting Diego his food. While we were eating—or pretending to eat in my and Zach’s cases—I did some research on Zach’s phone to see if there was something there to help him talk to Cody about his mom. It didn’t take long for me to find a trove of websites dedicated to helping kids deal with grief.
When Zach put down his fork with a sigh of defeat, I slid his phone over to him. “You might want to take a look at this.” I leaned closer and whispered, “Maybe in the other room.”
He nodded and got up from the table, taking his phone with him. Isabella and I helped the boys finish their breakfast and cleared the dishes. While my sister went to change Sofia’s diaper, I helped Cody and Diego clean up their mess and wash their hands in the kitchen sink.
After Isabella came out with Sofia, I asked her to stay with Cody for a few minutes while I made a phone call. I went into the bathroom and closed the door. I hit my best friend’s number, hoping he would answer.
“Miguel,” he croaked, “this better be the apocalypse.”
I was barely holding it together. “Al, I really need you right now.”
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“No,” I said on a half-sob. “Zach’s sister was killed last night.”
“What? How?”
I gave him a shortened version of what happened. “It’s such a mess. We haven’t even told Cody yet.”
“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry.” There was a pause before he went on. “I have to take care of Mom this morning, but I can come over this afternoon, okay?”
“Okay.” My voice hitched. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, Miguel. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
After I ended the call, I wiped my eyes and splashed water on my face before leaving the bathroom. When I got back to the kitchen, Isabella was handing Cody his Batman action figure.
“I found him on the floor,” she said, “I thought you might want to have him with you.”
“Thank you, Miss…Izza.” He stopped and frowned. “I don’t know how to say it.”
“It’s Isabella,” my sister said gently, sounding out the word slowly.
Cody tried again. “Isa…bella. Isabella! Yay!”
“That’s very good, Cody,” she said with a sad smile. She looked over at me. “I’m going home. To our house. These two didn’t get a bath last night. Mama and Papa are going to meet us there. Let us know if you need anything.”
