Page 41 of Breaking Through

"Mom..." I had to swallow hard past the lump in my throat.

"I keep thinking about what she used to tell us about how healing happens best in familiar soil. I didn't understand then, but watching everything unfold these past several months and seeing how he's improved being surrounded by memory and meaning..." Another rustle of papers, this time accompanied bya laugh. "Let's just say I've never been happier to admit I was wrong about something."

Grandpa called from the living room. "Margaret," he said, voice carrying clearly to the phone, "you sound just like Belle when she finally admitted that beige was, in fact, not the only acceptable color for living room walls."

The laugh that burst from Mom was real and raw and nothing like her professional telephone voice. It was the laugh I remembered from childhood before corporate success and international moves polished away her rough edges.

"I just want what's best for you."

"I know. And what's best is right here, where I can hear Belle's wind chimes and watch my grandson learn the same lessons about love and care that you once did."

The doorbell interrupted what might have been my mother's first explanation about misjudging something I could remember. Before I could answer it, Parker burst through the door, juggling three Little Blue Bean cups and what looked like a picnic basket.

"Sarah's gone rogue with the baking again." He gingerly set everything on the kitchen counter. "She claims Rafe has invented something he calls Breathe-Easy Banana Bread with a secret ingredient he won't reveal. I'm pretty sure it's just ginger, but he made her sign a non-disclosure agreement."

"An actual NDA?" I rescued the coffee cups before Parker's enthusiastic gesturing could topple them.

"Written on a napkin, but they had Cole witness it." He started unpacking the basket and then glanced at the phone. "Oh, are you deep in conversation? Did I interrupt something?"

"Hello, Parker." Mom's voice carried through the speaker, colored with faint amusement. "Still running that lovely blog?"

"Still telling Blue Harbor's stories." Parker's grin widened. "Speaking of which, did Holden tell you about our Chicago coverage plans?"

I shot him a warning glance that he cheerfully ignored.

"Chicago?" It didn't get past Mom. "What's happening in Chicago?"

"Nothing,"

I'd barely spoken the word when Parker piped up again. "Holden's going to support Wade at a memorial service."

Everyone was suddenly silent. I waited for protests about responsibilities and priorities and carefully worded suggestions that someone else could go instead.

"When?" Mom's voice was surprisingly gentle.

"Next week." I sank into a kitchen chair, suddenly exhausted. "It's important to Wade, and I want to be there, but with Grandpa's care, I don't think—"

"Which is precisely why Cole and I are staying here." Parker interrupted me while he pulled out what appeared to be three different types of bread. I'd turned his offer down once, but I knew he was stubborn. "Maria's given us the complete care instructions, and we've got backup plans for our backup plans. My parents will come to the rescue if needed."

"Parker." Mom spoke with that particular note of authority she'd perfected in years of corporate negotiations. "Tell me about these plans."

I listened in amazement for the next several minutes as Parker outlined a care schedule that would have impressed a military strategist. He covered everything—medication timing, oxygen tank delivery, emergency contacts, and even shared a color-coded chart of who would be on call for special treats.

"Mrs. Peterson's bringing her famous chicken soup on Tuesday," he explained. "On Wednesday, Tom and Maya will check in. They're swinging by as a side loop to their park patrol.It's an extra forty-five minutes, but what the heck? And then Sarah's worked with Rafe to plan a week's worth of specially designed baked goods."

"All this so I can go to Chicago?"

"All this because you've spent months caring for everyone else." Parker grinned from ear to ear. "Let us take care of things here while you support Wade. You taught us how, after all."

Mom cleared her throat. "He's right, sweetheart. Your father and I haven't always understood your choices, but seeing how you've handled everything these past months..." She paused. "You've shown us what real care is like. Maybe it's time we returned some of that support."

Grandpa reached across the table to grip my hand. His fingers were warm and steady. "Belle used to say that love isn't a finite resource. It multiplies when you share it."

I shook my head. "Did she really say that, or are you making up Gran quotes again?"

"Does it matter?" His eyes twinkled. "The point stands. You can't pour from an empty cup, Match. Let people help fill yours for a change."

Parker started arranging bread slices on plates with suspicious precision. "Sarah sent her new lavender chamomile tea blend. Says it promotes clarity of thought and acceptance of the obvious."

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