“Where did you see it last?”
Spencer was flat on the floor of Liam’s room, his long arm stretching under the toddler bed, sweeping back and forth on the carpet in big arches.
“I think I had it at Granny and Papa’s house.”
Trinity stood in the doorway to her son’s room, leaning against the frame. “Then don’t you think that’s where it is?”
Liam gave a noncommittal shrug. “I don’t know.”
Stepping into the room, Trinity came down to her son’s level, taking his tiny shoulders into her hands. “Sweetheart, I think we’re going to have to go without Bubba Bear tonight. I’ll call Papa and ask him to bring it over in the morning. Is there another stuffed animal that you’d like to sleep with instead?”
“No!” Liam’s small arms wove across his chest, and he gave a little stomp. “I can’t sleep without Bubba Bear!”
Trinity sighed. Never mind the fact that he hadn’t requested this particular teddy bear in weeks. Who knows how long the stuffed animal had been missing. But it sure seemed like par for the course tonight. Liam was in rare, displeased, and demanding form.
“I could run over and see if they have it,” Spencer suggested as he pushed off from the ground, giving a small grunt before standing upright and joined Trinity. “I honestly don’t mind.”
“No.” Trinity was not about to have Spencer be bossed around by a toddler with an attitude. “Liam can find another stuffy for tonight.” She softened her tone when she caught Spencer’s concerned gaze. “Thank you, though. That was very sweet of you to offer.”
Liam hadn’t given up his defiant stance, and now his bottom lip joined the scowl in a pout.
“Maybe Mia has one you’d like to borrow?” Spencer suggested. While Trinity appreciated his attempt at making peace, it could go one of two ways: Mia would either jump at the chance to impress her trainer by offering a stuffed animal of her own, or she would decide that now was the time for her brother to learn a lesson in tough love. Honestly, based on the way the night had been going so far, Trinity would put money on the latter.
“I don’twantone of sissy’s stuffed animals.” There was that haughty stomp again. “I want Bubba Bear!”
Trinity had a hard time being frustrated. The stuffed animal had been given to Liam by Calvin. More accurately, it had been given to Calvin by his CHP colleagues when word got around that Trinity was pregnant with their second child. Liam had taken it from their closet one day and adopted it as his own, and that bear became his sidekick, tagging along with the child everywhere like it had been Velcroed to his side.
“I don’t think we’re going to find Bubba tonight, sweetie. But how about if I go get one of Daddy’s t-shirts for you to snuggle with instead? Do you think that would be a good substitute?”
That pouty lip began to tremble, and Trinity’s heart split in two. She drew her son into her arms, folding her body around him like a cocoon. Liam nodded slowly against her chest.
“Okay.” She kissed the top of his head before standing back up. “I’ll go get one.”
“We’ll get started on the bedtime story,” Spencer said with the kindest smile she’d ever seen him wear. While she and Liam had been having their moment, Spencer had occupied himself at the bookshelf, giving the two their space. The thoughtful gesture hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“Thank you,” she said softly before slipping out of the room to retrieve a shirt for her son. On her way, she poked her head into Mia’s bedroom. The space was all pinks and frills, horse figurines, stuffed animals, and artwork covering every surface. She found her daughter tucked under the covers of her twin-sized bed, braiding the hair on one of the plastic horses that had a flowing white mane with sparkly strands interspersed.
“Are you good in here?” Trinity asked, her hand hooked on the doorframe where they’d documented Mia’s growth each year with an etched line and the date. They were overdue for another measurement. Trinity made a mental note to take care of that the following day. Keeping up with traditions had been hard when she was the only one responsible for carrying them out.
“I’m good.” Mia didn’t even look up, just continued brushing and braiding.
“I’ll be back to tuck you in as soon as we’re done with your brother.”
Mia gave a little nod and reached for a white ribbon she had set beside her on the comforter.
At least Mia was cooperative this evening. Trinity supposed her daughter was trying to impress Spencer by being easier going than usual. Honestly, the reason didn’t matter to Trinity. She was just grateful they only had one unruly kiddo to deal with.
Stepping into her walk-in closet, she flicked the light switch and the small space illuminated. Calvin’s side was smaller now.She’d donated many of his clothes shortly after he’d passed. It made no sense to hang onto an entire wardrobe that he would never wear again. But she was grateful something in her prompted her to keep a few of his favorites. His t-shirts bearing his college name. The shirts he’d gotten as swag from runs for charity and town fairs held throughout the year. She’d kept one full outfit—a pair of his most worn jeans, his blue and green plaid shirt, and a single white undershirt. She wasn’t sure why she did it. It wasn’t like he was ever coming back to put the ensemble on. But there was a piece of her that couldn’t let it go.
She looked at the small stack of shirts folded on the shelf and plucked one from the top. It read “Snowdrift Summit Half-Marathon, 2021” across the chest. Drawing it to her face, she pulled in a deep breath. It smelled like cotton, but not like Calvin. His scent that had clung to his clothing for so many months after his passing was now so faint she couldn’t even recognize it. And she didn’t know which was worse, because smelling the lingering scent of his cologne right now would have the power to take her out at the knees. But the reality of every tangible thing related Calvin was now gone placed a lump in the center of her throat. Her eyes scratched with unspent tears. She swallowed, hoping to tamp down the emotion that threatened to spill over.
Head hanging, she buried her face in the soft fabric.
Oh, how she missed him. She knew her children did too, even if they couldn’t verbalize it. It came out in stubbornness, tears, and defiance, which she had been assured was entirely age appropriate. But sometimes she wished they would just say the words, “I miss Daddy,” because it would make her feel so much less alone in her own grief.
With a shudder, she dragged the t-shirt down her face and clutched it to her chest, fighting a sob that tried hard to work its way out.
“Trinity?”
