I take the basket of clean bedding and bring it upstairs, stopping first in my bedroom. Mom had stripped the sheets off the beds after I told her what Denise had said, so this is the first time I’ve seen my bedroom in months. It’s mostly the same, sans a few books and a couple of things here or there that belong to Aidan. I quickly make up the bed, taking the basket with me as I return to the hallway.
I stand outside Michael’s room, a room I haven’t seen in months. A room that hasn’t been touched since Michael died. I couldn’t bring myself to go in there, and no one from his family had come to collect his things. Or even asked about them. I take a deep breath and open the door.
The first thing I notice is how clean the room is, especially for a room that should’ve been covered in layers of dust by now. Mom must have done some cleaning when she stripped the bed.
I sit down at Michael’s desk, still covered in notes about his unfinished novel. The one that has been tweaked and worked for months by many other hands. It’s interesting to see all the random thoughts scattered about, the ones that made it into the book and ones that did not. But there is one that catches my eye:
Title Ideas. Something about nighttime, or darkness. Maybe with the night sky? All the Collapsing Stars? Breaking the Moon?
Niall and I, along with the students, had been debating for weeks what the title of the book should be. The story was so engaging, so well written. But the title, the title had been alluding us. None of us had any good ideas.
ButBreaking the Moon? It’s perfect. I take my phone out of my pocket, hovering over my text chain with Niall, and decide against it. I shouldn’t pressure him to respond, let him come to me when he’s ready.
“Were you going to just let me sleep like that on the couch? I already feel it in my lower back.” Mom grabs the sheets and starts making the bed. I jump in to assist. “This your first time in this room since—”
“Yes,” I say, tucking in the corner of the sheet. “It hurt too much to do before I left. To see his things. The only thing I took of his was the draft of his book, but that had been in the office of the store. Not here.”
Mom grabs a blanket from the closet. Michael’s favorite blanket, covered in a print of various cat faces.
“This is the bedding for you, eh? A blanket covered in pussy?”
“Ha, ha, very funny,” Michael had said, throwing the blanket in the Kohl’s cart. “I think it’s purrfect.”
“God you are the worst.”
“Lost you there for a second,” Mom says, laying the blanket flat on the bed.
“In a memory. Specifically, when this heinous blanket was purchased.”
Mom laughs. “I particularly enjoy it. I’ve always wanted a cat but, you know, your father’s allergies.”
“Then you should have the blanket. And get a cat. Dad’s been gone for like two decades Mom. You deserve to get that cat.”
“Maybe I will. But I need my beauty sleep. Busy day tomorrow.”
I get up from the corner of the bed and head to the hallway. “Thanks again for coming.”
“You and I, kiddo. Always.”
“You and I,” I repeat, “always.”
Twix Snickerdoodle Thumbprint Cookies
Author: Felicia Pierce
Servings: 36 Cookies
A new spin on a classic cookie and iconic candy bar.
Ingredients
2 cups (245g) all-purpose flour
¼ tsp baking soda
½ tsp cream of tartar
¼ tsp salt
