“Alright, one more time,” Liz announces after the last of the cookies are gone and the remaining rice milk has been abandoned. “Go brush your teeth.” She throws her arms up like she’s setting offa race between them. The gesture translates well, because both kids take off at a run, scrambling out of the bedroom and down the hall.
“I want them extra clean,” Liz calls after them. “No speed brushing after sugar!”
There’s no direct response, just the muffled sound of Remmi instructing Gavin to do an extra good job.
“Think they’ll finally be able to go to sleep?” I ask, grabbing the now empty oatmeal box so we can refill it later.
“After we’ve given them one last surge of sugar?” She laughs, leading the way out of Gavin's room and to the stairs. “Yeah, actually I think they will.”
I nod. “Me too.” We take the steps in silence, both of us making our way back to where we started. Her with dirty dishes, me with a box of crumbs.
“Thank you.” Her tone is so soft and her words so genuine, she catches me completely off guard. The women in this kitchen are really messing me up tonight.
I have to clear my throat to keep from coughing, having choked on spit when she spoke. “Don’t mention it.” And then, I can’t take it anymore. My hand moves before I can think, thumb gently swiping at her mouth.
She stares back at me like a deer in headlights. “What was that for?”
“You had some chocolate.” I curl the corner of my mouth into a teasing grin. “Hershey’s kisses in the Pringles container?”
Liz’s mouth curves softly. “Lena’s favorite.”
This strange soft space of memories only the two of us will share from now on fades into the background at Gavin’s hollered request for another book.
It takes another thirty-plus minutes of tucking in and rereading stories, but finally, seventeen minutes to midnight, both Remmi and Gavin are sound asleep.
And then it’s down to the two of us, awkwardly standing at the bottom of the stairs, both of us unsure of what comes next.
“You could sleep on the couch if you want,” Liz offers. “In case your bed isn't ready in the office.”
It’s a pullout sofa. It's as ready as it’s going to be. But my gaze still shifts to the living room and the overstuffed couch in there. This would hardly be my first night spent on those cushions.
I look back at her. “Where are you sleeping?” She sent Holly to the futon in the den hours ago, and with both kids in their own beds, that only leaves one other option.
“I brought an air mattress,” she says stiffly, like she’s been putting off this same question for herself. “I figured I’d throw it down somewhere and sleep wherever.”
I knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep in Lena and Trent’s old room.
“Too weird sleeping in the master bedroom?”
“Too…everything,” she admits, running both hands over her face. Her eyes are puffy from grief and exhaustion. Their color is darker than normal, the brown hues almost swallowing up the greens and blues completely. Even her hair looks limp and tired and strangely sad.
“I have an idea.” I move toward the couch and start pulling off the two oversized cushions for seating. Together they almost make a twin mattress. “Let’s both sleep up there tonight.”
“Excuse me?”
“You can’t keep playing musical rooms with your air mattress, Liz. You need to get settled. And this shit? It’s never goingto get easier.” Gripping both oversized cushions, I nudge her with their edges. “Might as well power through this one. Together.”
“Both of us on the floor?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “That bed’s definitely gotta go. That’s a level of weird we’re never getting over.”
She grins. And it happens, just for a second. The bright greens and blues flash back to life.
CHAPTER TWELVE
LIZ
Ilet Jovi struggle with both cushions, one stuffed under each armpit, until he's halfway up the stairs before I reach out and take one from him.
