Page 27 of The Summer We Mended
Anna nodded, tucking her legs up beneath her.“You doing okay?”
Lily hesitated, then offered a small shrug.“I don’t know.Today was… a lot.”
“Yeah,” Anna said, her voice understanding.“But it was good, too.You seemed… happy.For a bit.”
“I was.”Lily swallowed.“And then I wasn’t.It’s like that now.The good moments, they just make the grief louder afterward.”
Anna reached over and gave her mother’s hand a gentle squeeze.It only lasted a moment, but it was enough.Lily looked over at her daughter, who looked so much like David when she was tired.Same eyes.Same way of holding everything inside until she didn’t.
“I get it, Mom.I’m proud of you.You didn’t have to stay and be social, but you did.I know…I know how hard that can be when you’re battling your heartbreak.”
Lily didn’t reply, just nodded and continued looking up at the night sky.It felt good to hear her daughter say she understood.A lot of people didn’t.
“I’m heading to bed,” Anna said softly.“Just wanted to check in.I’ll see you in the morning?”
Lily nodded.“Yeah.Thanks, sweetheart.”
Anna stood and leaned over to kiss her mother’s head, the kind of gesture she hadn’t made in a long time.Then she slipped back inside, the screen door clicking gently shut behind her.
The porch fell quiet again.
Lily looked back up at the stars.They had started to pierce the mist now, tiny specks of light braver than they had been an hour ago.She let her gaze drift, wishing, not for the first time, that she could go to bed and wake up in David’s arms.That this life, this widowhood, this aching version of herself was only a dream.
But she knew better.
So she rocked slowly on the swing, the blanket tight around her shoulders, the tea cooling in her hands.
She stayed out there long after the house went still, listening to the sea and the night birds and the echo of a voice she would never stop longing to hear.
* * *
The next morning, Lily stirred beneath her blanket, a faint golden light filtering through the sheer curtains in her bedroom.She didn’t need to look at the clock to know she’d slept past her alarm again.The familiar pang of guilt bloomed in her chest, a reflex now, just one of the many things she carried since David’s death.Her body ached with the kind of sleep that felt more like surrender than rest, and she lay there for a moment longer, trying to steel herself against the noise trickling in from the kitchen.
There were the unmistakable sounds of the twins—Blaze’s bounding energy and Nora’s sharp, clever laughter.But it was the third voice that jolted her fully awake, a rich baritone that brought tears instantly to her eyes.
Cody.
Saturday.Of course.
Since David’s passing and Cody’s retirement from the Marine Corps, it had been the day he’d chosen to come visit her.He would come over and take care of mowing the lawn, weed eating, or changing a light bulb if needed.Margot had started bringing food over on Friday night so that Cody could reheat lunch for them on Saturday.
Sometimes, Saturday was the only day that she had really pulled herself out of bed.She didn’t like for her children to see her this way, but she couldn’t tell her brain to snap out of it.It didn’t work that way.
Cody tried to talk, ask questions to see if he could help her in any way, but he got tired, she thought.So some days, they sat in silence or watched an old show on Netflix.Regardless, his presence had always soothed her.
Now he was in the kitchen laughing with Anna and the kids, his deep chuckle rolling through the old house like sunlight breaking through fog.Lily stared at the ceiling, the shadows of tree limbs swaying just slightly on the plaster, and tried to gather the strength to join them.But for a few more minutes, she let herself simply exist there in the quiet.
She missed David fiercely.
The sound of Anna’s laughter reached her again, mingled with Blaze’s delighted squeals.Something clanged, probably a spatula hitting the floor, and then came music, the scratchy intro to a song that made her heart constrict.
“This is it,” she whispered to herself with a trembling smile, blinking back tears.David’s favorite weekend playlist.He used to dance around the kitchen, belting it out with zero shame, spatula in hand as his microphone, the twins collapsing into giggles at his dramatic flair.Lily never had the heart to tell him how off-key he was.He wouldn’t have cared anyway.
Finally, she pushed back the covers and got to her feet.
The hallway smelled like cinnamon and coffee, warm and alive.The closer she got to the kitchen, the louder the music became.Someone was singing—Cody trying to mimic his father’s ridiculous falsetto.When she stepped into the doorway, she stopped short.
Anna was flipping pancakes with practiced ease, Cody manning the bacon.The twins had transformed the breakfast nook into a stage, singing into wooden spoons, jumping up and down on the bench.Her son and daughter were there, giggling, cheeks flushed from laughter.
