Page 30 of The Summer We Mended
“But did you?”she asked gently, meeting his eyes.“Did you really?”
Cody paused, his jaw tightening.“I did the best I could, Anna.Mom hasn’t exactly been forthcoming with conversation, or anything really.I don’t know that you being here a few months ago would have changed anything.”
“Maybe you’re right.I don’t know.I guess we’ll never know.I just…I always thought Mom would be okay, you know?She’s always been the anchor for everyone else.She’s the one who got Margot out of bed after her husband died.She kept Dad and Uncle Henry sane after Grandma and Grandpa died.How many people in town has she been there for?She’s the one who brings the casseroles and the pies for people, she organizes fundraisers, and clothing drives.She’s never been the one to fall apart or even need a hand to hold.”
“She always had Dad to be that hand in the past.They were best friends and had been for a lifetime, practically.I think…I think we never realized just how much the two of them relied on each other,” Cody murmured.
Anna let out a long sigh, tears pricking at her eyes.“You’re right.I’ve just always seen mom as being so strong, and now, now it’s like seeing a shell of a person.”
“She’s still strong.She always will be,” Cody replied.“I think…I think when someone has been the strong one their entire lives, that at some point it just becomes too much to carry alone.She’ll get back to herself, we just have to show her how.I really do think the twins are helping.”
“I think so, too.”
“Just give her some time.”
“I didn’t even know,” she continued, “that she put a sign on the studio: Closed for the season.Did you know?”
He froze.Then slowly shook his head.“No.I didn’t.”
There was a flicker of regret in his expression.
Anna softened.“It’s okay.I just… I miss him, too, you know?You don’t have to shoulder everything by yourself.”
He didn’t respond at first.Just gave her a small, tight nod before stepping away from the sink.
“I need to get going,” he said, grabbing his keys from the hook near the door.“I made plans for this afternoon.”
Anna opened her mouth to ask what kind of plans, but the words stalled when he avoided her gaze.
“Tell Mom and the kids goodbye for me, okay?”
She nodded.“Sure.”
And just like that, he was out the door, footsteps fading down the porch steps.He’d never been much for emotions, even before the Marines, but something about his time in the Corps had only made him more guarded.More efficient at shutting things down and walking away.
Anna stood in the kitchen for a moment longer, letting the quiet settle again around her.Then, with a deep breath, she pulled open the pantry and took out the ingredients for clam chowder.A promise was a promise, and it felt good to do something warm, something comforting.Something that smelled like home.
The more she moved around the kitchen, the more she could feel the questions building in her chest like a rising tide.But how do you ask the strongest woman you’ve ever known why she’s given up?How do you pull someone out of the dark when they won’t even admit they’re lost?
She washed the clams and set them to soak.Peeled potatoes.Chopped onions.Her hands moved automatically, guided by years of memory, muscle, and comfort.She made clam chowder the way her father used to: rich with cream and butter, seasoned with thyme and a bay leaf, finished with a splash of white wine.The smell filled the house, warm and briny.
Margot popped her head in from the patio.“It smells like heaven in here.What are we celebrating?”
“Holding it together,” Anna said quietly.“Barely.I didn’t realize you were here.”
“Just got here,” she answered with a smile.“Thought I’d check in on everyone and get more time with those babies.”
“I’m grateful that you’ve been here throughout everything.”
Margot gave her a knowing look.“I talked to Georgia.She said you stopped by.”
Anna nodded.“I saw the sign.”
Margot stepped in and took a dishtowel from the hook to dry her hands.“She’s not herself.Hasn’t been.We’ve all been trying to nudge her back to her old self, but maybe it has to come from you.”
Anna swallowed the lump in her throat.“I don’t know if I have it in me to be someone’s anchor right now.Luke’s gone.The kids are exhausting.I feel like I’m barely keeping my own head above water.”
Margot reached out, resting a hand on Anna’s shoulder.“Maybe you don’t have to be her anchor.Maybe you just have to be her daughter.Remind her who she is.And if all else fails, feed her.Food is a love letter.”
