Page 13 of The Summer We Mended
She remembered the faint thump of bass coming through the floorboards, followed by the unmistakable screech of a guitar riff.Whitesnake, of course.Her dad had a thing for ’80s hair bands, and her mom never stopped encouraging it.Anna had stirred awake to the sound of David Coverdale wailing through the speakers and the smell of pancakes drifting up the stairs.
She’d climbed out of bed and opened her door just as Cody stepped into the hallway, rubbing his face, his hair a complete mess.
“They’re doing it again,” he’d muttered, already annoyed.
Anna had just grinned.“You say that like it’s a surprise.”
Cody’s friend, Daniel Calloway, had stayed over the night before.He padded out of the guest room behind them, yawning.“What’s happening?”
Anna motioned for them to follow her.They crept to the top of the stairs, peering down into the kitchen where the lights were bright and the chaos was in full swing.
Their dad was at the stove, flipping pancakes with exaggerated flair, using the spatula like a microphone as he belted out the chorus to “Here I Go Again.”Their mom twirled across the tile floor in fuzzy socks, a mixing spoon in her hand, lips mouthing every word as if it were a duet.Then, without warning, David grabbed Lily’s waist and dipped her low, kissing her as she laughed, flour smudged on her cheek.
Daniel blinked like he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming.“Are they… dancing?”
Anna nodded.“Yup.They do this almost every morning.”
Cody groaned.“It’s honestly exhausting.”
“They’re like sitcom parents, but with less shame,” Anna had said, watching with a quiet kind of awe.“Only better.They actually like each other.”
Daniel let out a laugh.“I wish my parents did stuff like this.”
Cody shot him a look.“Be careful what you wish for.You haven’t seen the slow dancing that comes after the waffles.”
But even Cody couldn’t fully hide his smile.She’d caught him watching their parents just a little longer than he had to before turning back down the hall, shaking his head.
Even then, Anna had known what they had was rare.
She still did.
She shook her head before she closed her eyes and let out a sad sigh.Those were her favorite memories of her parents.
But this morning?Nothing.
Anna slipped from bed, careful not to disturb the creaky floorboards.She padded to the hallway, then to her mother’s room, knocking gently before pushing the door open a few inches.The room was dim, curtains drawn.Lily lay curled in bed, her silver hair fanned against the pillowcase.Her eyes flickered open as Anna entered.
“Hey,” Anna said softly.“Everything okay?”
Lily blinked slowly, raising a hand to shield her eyes.“Migraine,” she muttered, her voice low and flat.“I just need a little more rest.”
Anna frowned.Her mom got up so late.Not even when she had the flu on Christmas morning, not when she broke her leg, and her father had threatened to zip tie her to the bed so that she rested like she was supposed to.
Migraines were always fierce, but her mother had never stayed in bed for them before.Something wasn’t right.
“Okay,” she said slowly.“Do you want some coffee?Maybe caffeine will help.Something light to eat?”
Lily just waved her off.“Later.”
Anna backed out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.A tight ball of unease settled in her stomach.She made her way downstairs, grabbed her phone, and shot a text to Margot.
Hey.Mom says she has a migraine.She’s still in bed.That ever happen before?
More and more.She hasn’t been opening the studio with any regularity.I stopped by this morning.There was a sign on the door: Closed for the season.
Anna froze in the middle of the kitchen.
“Closed for the season?”she said out loud in a gasp.
