Joshua nodded, blinking back tears. “All right, Mara. What do you need from me next?”
He moved alongside her as they navigated the living room, cataloging the damage with quiet, methodical care. He spoke only when necessary, answering her questions or clarifying the importance of particular items in a low, soft voice.
Each step felt impossibly heavy, but he forced himself forward, silently repeating Colin’s words: “One simple task at a time”. It became his lifeline, holding him above the rising tide of grief. He reached toward a framed photo on a shelf, blackened by soot but still recognizable: Colin and him at Ross Castle. His fingers shook, hovering inches from the frame, before he quickly withdrew, swallowing hard. “Can you save this one?”
“I’ll see the picture is marked as a priority,” she promised, then pointed. “This lamp?” she asked, pausing by a ceramic piece near the couch, covered in a layer of soot.
Joshua shook his head slowly. “Not sentimental.”
Mara made careful notes and photographs as they worked through the ruined room. Joshua glanced toward the kitchen, where Colin, Trent, and Jeff were packing up food; upstairs, David and Nate were upstairs, boxing what they could. The house felt fuller, less desolate, with friends moving quietly through its battered spaces.
Colin would glance up now and then, silently checking in, but remained deliberately distant, allowing Joshua space to navigate this difficult task.
“This set of books?” Mara asked, gesturing toward the bottom shelf of a bookcase.
Joshua leaned closer. “They're mostly replaceable paperbacks,” he murmured. “But the poetry books—those were gifts from Colin. I want to save them if possible.”
“We'll prioritize them,” Mara promised, marking them on her list.
They worked onward, Joshua’s confidence growing as he dealt with each decision in front of him. It was painful but manageable, taking one small step at a time.
Eventually, they reached the small table near the front window. Joshua froze, his throat tightening, as he saw the statue of their two clasped hands lying next to the table, clearlydamaged. He approached it slowly, his hands trembling as he reached toward it, already shaking with sobs as he carefully lifted it.
The resin was blistered in spots, one fingertip chipped clean away, and a dark crack ran along the base. But the two clasped hands still clung together, blackened yet unbroken.
Mara’s voice softened as she took in the statue. “This looks custom-made.”
Joshua nodded, brushing the damaged hands. “Colin had it made for our anniversary,” he whispered. “It means… god, it means so much to both of us.”
Mara waited quietly, allowing him the emotional space he needed.
“Can it be saved?” Joshua asked, his voice barely audible. He turned to face her, and behind the mask, his face was streaked with tears.
He watched in silence as Mara lifted the statue, examining it closely. She ran her gloved fingers over the intricate detail, then sighed quietly.
“There is damage here that may be beyond my ability to repair. The missing fingertip, for one thing.” She sighed and slid her finger along the dark crack. “I’m not sure about this. It’s possible I could do––something.” She looked at Joshua, noting the tears on his cheeks, and laid a hand on his arm. “I’ll try.”
Joshua took the statue into his hands, studying the ugly, darkened marks etched into the surface of the statue he adored.“It’s all right,” he whispered, his hand brushing their clasped hands as if to reassure a beloved child that this flaw hadn’t lessened their worth. His gaze lifted to meet Mara’s. “Do what you can, and I’ll hope for the best.” “It’s like life—some scars run deep. But we carry them anyway.”
Mara held his gaze a moment, then nodded slowly, moved by the quiet resilience in his words. “Yes, we do.”
He handed it back to Mara to be packed, then turned and spotted his husband standing in the living room doorway, listening to every word. Colin’s smile was a benediction as he moved to Joshua’s side and wrapped him in his arms.
“I love you so much,” he whispered.
“Just as I love you.”
“The task right in front of you, my darling.”
“One thing at a time, myyedid.”
“That’s how we’ll get through this.”
Joshua tightened his arms around Colin, surprised by a flicker of quiet pride. Just hours ago, facing this had felt impossible—yet here he was, still standing.
From the kitchen, he heard Trent sigh dramatically as he and Jeff carefully wrapped salvaged food items. “God forbid we can’t save Colin’s protein bars. Can you imagine the weeping and wailing from Josh?”
Joshua turned to Colin, and they both burst into laughter as they held each other close.
