Page 53 of The Summer We Mended
“I keep thinking about how much your dad would’ve loved this,” Lily admitted, her voice low.
Anna didn’t pretend not to know who she meant.“He would’ve.Dad always talked about how much he hoped we would get stationed closer so the kids could be here more.”
Lily swallowed the lump rising in her throat.“I almost sold the house after the funeral.Couldn’t bear to walk through it alone.”
Anna looked at her with kind eyes.“But you didn’t.”
Lily shook her head.“No.Something stopped me.Maybe some part of me knew it still had a purpose.”
A breeze rustled the hydrangeas along the porch rail, and the waves crashed in the distance.The world kept turning.
They sat in silence, sipping wine and listening to the chirp of crickets.It wasn’t healing in the dramatic, cinematic way people expected.It was quieter than that.Softer.More like the slow melting of a glacier.A little warmth at a time.
The next morning began with pancakes and strawberries and another round of blanket fort negotiations.Lily found herself looking forward to the noise, the questions, the tiny hands tugging at her sweater.
She played card games with the twins, taught Nora how to braid flower crowns, and even joined Anna and Margot in the garden to tend the overgrown herbs David had once planted.She knelt in the dirt, letting the sun warm her back, and when she unearthed a small rock painted with a smiling sun, she let herself cry for just a moment and then smiled.
Every day, it got easier.Not because she was forgetting, but because the house was no longer a monument to grief.It was becoming a home again.
That afternoon, Blaze helped Anna make lemonade while Nora sat on the counter, taste-testing strawberries.Lily watched from the doorway, remembering when David used to lift her onto that same counter.
She smiled softly.It was the first time in a long time that the memory didn’t hurt and cause grief to crash over her immediately.Little moments for her to notice that the weight of grief was slowly starting to edge away.
ChapterTwenty
Lily
“Ican’t figure out if you’re staring at that step because it owes you money, or because you’re contemplating how to fix it,” Tom said from the driveway.
He was carrying two cups of coffee and a tin of food again.
“It’s got an attitude,” Lily replied, managing a small smile.
Tom wandered closer, crossing the street with an easy gait.There was something unhurried about Tom, like he moved on his own timeline, immune to the rush of the world.
“You thinking of fixing it?”he asked.
She shrugged.“Thinking about thinking about it.”
Tom chuckled.“That’s progress.”
Lily looked at the step again, her hands falling to her sides.“I don’t know where to start.”
Tom squinted at the wood.“Step’s not the real problem, is it?”
She didn’t answer.Instead, she stared at the house, the chipped shutters, the hollow doorframe.Her gaze slid to the empty swing hanging from the tree—one of David’s last projects.
“Want help?”Tom asked, his tone soft.
Lily hesitated, then nodded.“I think I do.”
They started slow.That morning, they pried up the step and examined the rot beneath it.Tom brought over tools, and Lily fetched lemonade.They worked in companionable silence, interrupted only by the occasional bark from Tom’s retriever, Max, who parked himself on the grass like a supervisor.
Fixing the step turned into repainting the porch.Before long, they had a routine.Each morning that week, Tom arrived with coffee, and they tackled some other small tasks around the house while Anna and the kids focused on their schoolwork.Lily knew she should be going to the studio and working on pottery, getting it up and running for the weekend, but she still couldn’t bring herself to do it completely.Instead, this was a good distraction.
Lily’s hands grew calloused, her skin tanned, her shoulders stronger.So did her spirit.Working side by side with Tom was nice because he radiated a strong, empathetic silence.Lily laughed to herself at the thought—it made no sense to put words to it, but there was something about Tom that made her feel comfortable and safe.
Friday morning, Tom showed up with two breakfast sandwiches and a grin.“Thought you deserved a treat.”
