“They really are lovely pans, Tammy,” I call after her, but she’s too far down the hall, mumbling something about checking on the kids, to make me think she’s taking my apologies to heart.
I sigh, looking down at the two pots in my hands, torn on what to do with them.
I spent the last thirty minutes frozen in the foyer, unable to decide how to move forward. And that’s after I spent the entire drive here trying to sort out how in the hell I could possibly move into my sister’s house without moving her out. In addition to two days spent boxing up my belongings while wondering where the fuck I would ever unpack them.
Only when standing in the foyer stuck inside my own head forever no longer felt like an option, did I convince myself the kitchen was safe.
Lena never did enjoy cooking. I could change out the pots and pans. Allow one part of this house to feel a little neutral. A teeny tiny bit like we can forge a path forward where Trent and Lena arestill with us, but our lives aren’t living shrines keeping their memories alive and us half dead.
Apparently, I was wrong.
“Found your new life partner out in the driveway,” Holly announces, pulling me out of my own thoughts about pots and pans and how Tammy is always going to hate me. First, because of the kids. And now this. “I feel like I know you in a whole new way now.”
“Excuse me?” My hands drop limply to my sides, the pots having lost my interest for the moment. Then, before she can answer, Jovi shows up right behind her and everything makes sense again. “What did you say to her?”
“Nothing you could deny,” he mutters dryly, moving around me toward the kitchen with what appears to be a tray of dirty dishes. “Dishwasher empty?”
I shrug. “Like I would know.” Though I suddenly wish I did. No one’s made use of this kitchen since before the accident. If the dishwasher is full of dirty dishes, I have zero interest in being the one to open it up.
Jovi makes a face. “Christ, if this ends up being a repeat of Jovi’s mini fridge in the barn, I’m buying all new kitchen appliances.” He freezes like he has another thought. “Have you checked the refrigerator? Or the washer?”
“I haven’t checked anything,” I admit, my face starting to twist with disgust at the potential biohazards that await us.
“Well, no one can claim you’re poorly matched,” Holly remarks, strolling by and heading straight for the refrigerator. Before Jovi or I can say anything to stop her, she pulls back the double doors. “Surprise, surprise, your sister’s grocery shopping skills are on par with your own.” She twists to the left, looking at us. “Nothing perishable in here except maybe the orange juice. Nothing much inhere period. Freezer is doing most of the work in terms of food preservation.”
I breathe a small sigh of relief.Smallbecause I’m a little appalled with my sister’s dinner choices ranging from Stouffers to Hungry Man meals. I may not buy a lot of groceries but that’s only because cooking for one is easy to lose interest in. The saving grace here is that none of her frozen dinner options are likely to have spoiled in the time they’ve been left here.
Holly lets the doors fall back into place and moves straight for the dishwasher. She lets out a laugh when she reaches it. “One lonely coffee cup.”
“Makes sense,” Jovi says. “I’m pretty sure every other mug they own was left in Trent’s office.”
“No food. No dishes. How are their kids still alive?” I shake my head, walking around the kitchen, still holding a pot in each hand as I examine my surroundings through a new lens. The searching for food one.
“Paper plates,” Jovi fills in the blank for me. “Trash was full of them when I came by the first time after the accident. I took it out as soon as I got here. It smelled.” He crinkles his nose, setting his tray on the counter beside the sink and getting to work rinsing his collection of cups before placing them in the dishwasher one after the other.
“Want me to check the laundry room while I’m at it?” Holly offers.
“Would you?” Part of me is starting to think Lena just bought new clothes for everyone every week, judging by her approach to feeding people, but I don’t want to find out I’m wrong by getting a face full of mildew. I’ve faced enough horrors thismonth. If Holly is offering to take one for the team, I’m going to let her.
My friend wanders off down the hall without another word.
“What’s with the pots?” Jovi asks, closing the dishwasher and drying his hands on the towel hanging from the hook beside it. It’s weird watching him. Lena always said he was a neat freak. Not that I ever believed her, but it’s still strange to see him move so naturally through the motions of loading the dishes, like he’s a real adult now.
I look down at my hands. “I was packing them up when Tammy showed up with the kids. I asked her if she knew of anyone I could pass Lena’s crappy starter set on to.”
Jovi makes a face. “Tammy gave them to Lena. They were a wedding present.”
I grimace. “I know.” I sigh, sliding both pans onto the counter and releasing them at last. “Now.” I drag myself around the corner of the kitchen island and into one of the barstools at the bar. “I don’t know how to move into this house, but I’m scared if I act like I’m just visiting, we won’t move forward. The kids won’t move forward. And I can’t let them stay stuck in the aftermath of the accident forever. It’s bad enough this is the first they’ve been in their own rooms since it happened.”
I had no idea Tammy was keeping them out of the house on purpose. Devastating as it is to come here and not find their parents, I find it worse to withhold the only walls that might offer comfort, the only space that holds what’s left of the two people they loved most in this world.
“Remmi looked scared when she walked in. Like she thought Lena’s ghost might pop out at her at any second.” Home isn’t supposed to feel that way. Even when it’s home to dead people, it’s supposed to feel comforting. I know. I spent hours in my father’sbedroom after he died. Heartbreaking though it was facing his absence, it was the only place that felt like he was also still here. I want Lena’s kids to know that feeling. Not to be frightened of it.
“I thought the kitchen would be a neutral place. Somewhere I could change a little something that would show us all that things are different without taking away from what needs to stay the same. At least for now.” I shake my head, staring at the pans. “I bought myself this amazing cookware three years ago. I shopped around forever until I found exactly what I wanted. I spent a small fortune, but I told myself it was worth it. I’d hit a milestone with my business and I wanted to celebrate. It didn't matter that I was never going to make use of more than two of the little pans, I wanted the whole set.”
I have no idea why I’m telling Jovi this. Except to make myself feel better, I guess. To somehow convince myself that hurting Tammy wasn’t as terrible because I had a reason for wanting to replace her pots. A good reason.
But what reason is good enough to make up for insulting a woman who’s grieving her son?
