"Brody, on the other hand—I think he lives to torture Hannah most days, or maybe it’s the other way around, but it’s all in good fun. Hannah is at an age where everyone and everything bothers her, and Brody isn’t putting up with it. He gives the attitude right back and ... it’s like watching two children fight sometimes."
Bill raises a brow at their conversation. "That’s putting it mildly. Brody is a good father. He just needs to figure out how to raise a tween girl. He’ll get there."
"Wow, you’ve got a full life there, huh?" Mom asks.
"We sure do. We’re very blessed."
Journey stands from her seat. "You can take my seat if you’d like. I have to go make a couple of phone calls," she says, grabbing her purse.
"Yeah, I have to check a few things too, so feel free to stay for a bit," I say, following Journey out the door.
She doesn’t stop when she steps into the hallway like I thought she would. She’s walking ahead without saying a word. "Are you okay?" I ask her, jogging to reach her arm.
She jerks her arm from my hand and pushes through the doors, moving through the empty hallway until she’s in the far corner near the elevators. She presses her forehead against the window, overlooking the parking lot, and I watch her back shudder.
I place my arms around her. "I know."
"He’ll never be able to walk us down the aisle or have a father-daughter dance or see his grandchildren. We didn’t give him the opportunity,” Journey says.
I didn’t think Journey had relationships, a marriage, or children on her mind, or if she ever would. It was never on her agenda, but maybe something changed over the years.
"I didn’t know you wanted all that.”
"Well, I know you do, and yeah, someday I’ll want to settle down. I didn’t know we were on a timeline. Maybe I would have cared sooner."
"I know.”
"And it looks like we let Mom down too. I mean, what the hell? I didn’t know this was what we were supposed to be doing right now?"
"No one said we shouldbe married and have kids by now, Journey.”
"Mom’s life will be so empty when Dad goes, and it’s our fault."
I wasn’t thinking of it in that way, but her words gut me. "We’re still here. It’s not like we’re leaving or going to forget about her,” I tell Journey.
"You know it’s not the same thing. She’s going to be lonely just sleeping at night."
"Grandkids wouldn’t fix loneliness.”
Journey groans. “He told me, Mel. I just—I’ve been thinking about so much, but not about what happens after ... you know?"
"After will come. We must be here now, though. Nothing in our lives is changing at this moment, and we need to do what we can to be what Mom needs."
Journey reaches into her purse and grabs a wad of tissues, blotting beneath her black-lined eyes. "God, this sucks," she grunts.
She’s usually the strong one of us two, and she’s losing it. Not one of us will ever be the same again.
Mom, Elizabeth, and Bill find us in the hallway. "They need to do a few tests and help him move around a bit. They’ll come back out to get us when we can go back inside," Mom says, her words monotone and lifeless.
Elizabeth looks at Bill briefly before refocusing her attention on Mom. "Tonight, I’m bringing dinner over. Stay here until they kick you out. Then, we’ll come over and keep you company for a bit."
I assume Mom is about to turn her down because of her need to cook and feed everyone.
"That would be so wonderful of you, Elizabeth. Please bring the boys and those grandkids of yours too. I’d love to meet them."
Bill clears his throat. "Uh—are you sure you’re up to this? Our house sounds like a circus most nights."
"I need life in our house. I’m sure," Mom says with a weak smile.
