She had worked for the family-owned furniture company for over a decade, serving as Mr. Henessy's personal assistant for the past six years. He'd been good to her, to their family.
"He wants me to work as long as I feel I'm able," Mom continued, "and he'll make sure I have insurance until the end. We'll hire my replacement soon, so I have plenty of time to train them."
Plenty of time? Replacement?
Mom didn't have plenty of time left. He and Grace wouldn't get a replacement mother. Not that he wanted one. No one could measure up to his mom, who’d probably spent very little of her afternoon resting, but seemed to be weathering this terrible storm—this category five hurricane—with a queen's grace.
"I don't want a lot of fuss or anything fancy, but we should contact a mortuary soon?—"
"Mom, stop." Gabe held up a hand. "I can't—" He swallowed hard to force the lump from his throat. "I can't do this yet."
"But you heard Dr. Sumner, we don't know how long I have."
"I know, but I need a little time.Please?" He felt like a child begging to stay up past his bedtime.
"Okay." Mom slowly nodded. "But we can't wait too long, Mijo."
"I know." He doubted he'd be ready anytime soon, but he wouldn't let his mom down. It would kill him, but he'd help her plan her funeral and make the necessary arrangements. He couldn't bear to let anyone else do it.
Mom finally picked up her fork and took a bite of enchilada.
Gabe forced himself to do the same.
"I've had a good life," she said after a single bite. "I've raised two wonderful kids who have turned out to be amazing adults." Mom held her head high, but her chin lacked its usual determined tilt. "I don’t have any regrets, and I'm not afraid to die."
Grace dabbed at her eyes with her napkin, and Gabe had to once again force down the emotion that clogged his throat.
In truth, Marisol Rivera had had a difficult life; orphaned at the age of eight, then raised by her grandmother who died shortly after Marisol turned nineteen. She'd had a happy life with his dad—or so Gabe had thought—until he walked out on them, leaving her practically destitute with two teenagers to finish raising on her own. But she'd never complained. Instead, she rolled up her sleeves and went to work.
"My only regret is that I didn't get to see you both married with families of your own." She put her hand on Gabe's where it rested on the table. "I'm sorry you were dealt such a difficult hand. Your father left just when you needed him most in your life. I tried to make up for his absence, but I failed miserably."
"Come on, I don't think I turned out so bad." Gabe's attempt to ease the somber tension earned him an eye roll from Mom and a scowl from his sister. "Mom, you didn't fail us." He covered her hand with his. When had hers become so frail? "You did everything you possibly could for Grace and me. I attribute the man I am today to you."
Tears gathered in her eyes as she smiled. "You did most of that on your own. You had such an unbreakable spirit. Until Harper jilted you, that is." Her smile faded. "I kept expecting you to bounce back eventually, but her betrayal left you bitter." Her lips pressed into a thin line as she slowly shook her head.
"I'm not bitter," Gabe said defensively.
He had been for a long time, but he'd eventually come to realize he was much better off without Harper. Especially when she and Dirk divorced only eighteen months after eloping.
"Then why haven't you moved on? I know PT school was stressful, but that's behind you now." Mom squeezed his hand again, giving it a little shake. "My experience with your father probably left a bad taste in your mouth when it comes to marriage, but it's time for you to settle down, Mijo." Tears filled her eyes, and she dabbed at them with her napkin before taking Grace's hand as well. "All I've ever wanted was to see you both in happy, fulfilling relationships."
Regret weighed heavily in his stomach. Yes, PT school was grueling, but he graduated two years ago, and he had yet to make a real effort to form any lasting relationships, let alone get married.
"Don't worry about us, Mom." He cleared his throat to loosen the perpetual lump of emotion that had taken up residence there. "Gracie and I will be oka—" His voice broke on the last word, because how could they possibly be okay without their mother?
Across the table, Grace's sniffles grew louder.
"Oh, I know you will. You've both got my stubborn streak. But there's a big difference between beingokayand being happy. I'm not saying you need to be married to be happy, but…" Her voice turned tearful again, and it broke Gabe's heart. "I always thought I'd get to meet your spouses." She released his hand and brought her napkin to her eyes again. "And hold my grand babies."
He wanted so badly to fix this for his mother, like he'd done with everything else that had broken over the last twelve years. He hated that he'd let her down in this regard.
If only I could alleviate her concerns…
"I'm seeing someone." The lie was out of his mouth before he could think about how stupid it was. He grabbed his water glass and chugged it to alleviate his suddenly dry mouth and to hide behind.
"You are?" Mom pressed a hand to her chest. Her eyes lit up, all sadness and worry gone. "Since when?"
Grace's head popped up, eyes narrowed, her face full of questions.
