Page 59 of Why Not Now?

“Where’s the snow shovel, Mom?” I ask.

“Probably where you left it,” she answers, taking Lacey’s hand and leading her to the kitchen.

“She still needs to do her homework,” I call after them.

Mom waves her hand, shooing me away. She’s going to feed Lacey, and I don’t have a problem with that. So I go down the stairs and back outside to the shed in the backyard where I find the shovel and get to work on the driveway.

There’s not a lot of snow, so it’s not too difficult, but it’s wet, so it’s heavy. It takes me about twenty minutes to shovel the driveway before I start on the sidewalk. Mom and Lacey come out, steaming mugs in their hands. They sit on the two Adirondack chairs I’d bought Mom for her birthday three years ago and watch me work.

“I don’t even know why I’m doing this,” I say as I shovel the minuscule amount of snow away. “It’s all going to be gone by tomorrow, anyway.”

“I don’t know why you’re doing it either,” Mom says from her seat. “I didn’t ask you to. You just showed up and started shovelling.”

Lacey laughs.

“He always does this,” Mom tells Lacey. “He just shows up and does stuff for me. Then he complains about it the whole time. I never ask him to do it.”

“If I waited for you to ask me,” I say, “it would be so far past the easy stage that it would take me twice as long.”

“This is what he tells himself,” she continues, not speaking to me at all. “The truth is, he’s just a good boy who loves his momma.”

Lacey laughs again and I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling, because it’s true. I do love my mom.

I listen to them chat about school and plans for the future. Lacey is really into environmental sciences and wants to focus on that. She’s in grade eleven and hasn’t figured out what college she wants to go to yet, but she’s been looking at a couple programs that might be interesting. I finish with the sidewalk and put the shovel away, returning to the front to see them gathering their things to go back inside. I move my car from the street into the driveway, grabbing a bag from the backseat.

“Did you bring me a coffee?” I ask.

“No,” Mom says. “You were working. It would have gotten cold. There’s some in the kitchen. Let’s go and I’ll make you both something to eat.”

When we’re seated at the dining table, Mom pulls a breakfast casserole out of the oven and serves it up with steaming coffee.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“I figured you’d be hungry when you got here,” she says, sitting down with us to eat.

“How did you know I was coming? I’m not supposed to be here until this evening.”

She rolls her eyes and picks up her fork, looking at Lacey when she speaks. “You see what I mean? I bet you two cookies he woke up this morning, saw the snow, and simply thought, I’m going to Mom’s today to shovel her driveway. No debate, noshould I?Just got up and came over.”

I consider this morning, waking up with Ava. If she hadn’t gone in to work, I probably would have come over later than I did, but Mom’s right, I would have come over and done it, regardless.

I pull the container of cookies out of the bag I’d brought in from the car.

Mom and Lacey start laughing.

“Ava and I made these,” I say. “Two are for you, Lacey. One is for Lis, since she gave me the recipe.”

“For me?” Lacey asks. “Why?”

“You didn’t get to help with the decorating. Which I want to help you guys do at your place, by the way. I was thinking tomorrow night after work, but you have gymnastics, don’t you?”

“It’s over until January. Tomorrow would be great,” Lacey says. After we eat breakfast, she opens the container taking out a cookie. “Would you like my other one, Ms. Moritz?”

“Oh, please. Call me Justine. And no thank you, love. You should eat them both. It’s not every day Derek shares his cookies.”

“Hey,” I protest. “I can share. I just didn’t like to because Trish and Gina always stole my stuff. When are they coming over? I need to see my niece and nephews.”

We continue to chat and I’m not surprised at how easily Lacey and Mom get along. She should have always been here. I feel protective of her and Ava. I want them to be safe and happy and, most importantly, part of my family.

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