Page 32 of The Summer We Mended
Lily bit her tongue and shook her head.She was angry at the world still, and especially at the supposed man in the sky who took her husband from her too soon.
She’d spent a lifetime in that church.They’d followed the written word and lived a Christian life, but what had it gotten them?Her husband was gone, and she was left trying to figure out what she’d done so wrong to deserve this punishment.
Margot let out a long sigh.“I get it, Lily.I really do.”
Lily didn’t reply.She shook her head and focused on the bitter coffee in front of her.
“Where are Anna and the kids?”Margot continued.
“She took them to the library so they could get some schoolwork done.”
“It’s really neat that the kids can learn through their computers now,” Margot said as she continued washing dishes.
Lily continued to sit at the kitchen table, watching her friend as if she were watching an actor on a television show.She really was grateful for Margot, but some days, she just wanted to be left alone.
“There’s a fundraiser next month,” she said lightly.“For the children’s museum.You used to chair it.Remember the papier-mâché whale from last year?”
Lily didn’t respond.She took a sip of her coffee, grimacing as it hit her tongue cold.
Margot turned off the faucet and wiped her hands on a dish towel.She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms.“They’ve been asking about you, Lily.The museum board.Everyone, really.They’re used to you being involved.Your name is still on the donor list, but not for this year.”
“I didn’t know grief came with a social calendar,” Lily said dryly.
Margot tilted her head.“You know it’s not about that.This community matters to you.It always has.You can’t hole up and…”
“Itdidmatter to me,” Lily admitted.“But everything’s different now.”
“You think David would want you to stay holed up here like this?”
Lily flinched like she’d been slapped.Tears pricked at her eyes, but not because she was sad, anger filled her.
“Don’t.Don’t you dare tell me what my dead husband would want,” she snapped.
Margot leaned back and sighed.
“You haven’t left this house for anything but groceries and the post office in almost a year.You haven’t touched the studio in months.You’re wasting away in here.Hiding.”
Lily’s eyes snapped up.“It’s not hiding.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s grieving,” Lily said, her voice sharp now, but trembling.She stood suddenly, pushing the chair back with a scrape.Her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she turned toward the window.
Margot followed, her voice soft.“Lily, I know what grief is.”
“Do you?”Lily whispered.
“Yes,” Margot said without hesitation.“And when I lost my Will, you were the only reason I got out of bed.You showed up every day.Brought coffee.Forced me to eat.Held my hand when I couldn’t stop crying.You reminded me how to breathe.”
Lily said nothing.
Margot took a step closer.“You were the reason I could even begin to put one foot in front of the other.I’m trying to repay that kindness, albeit not as gracefully as you did.”
Lily’s chin dropped to her chest.The floor blurred as her eyes filled with tears.Her breath hitched as shame and guilt slithered through her chest like smoke.She hadn’t stood strong for herself.She had let herself unravel, piece by piece, and every day she watched the world outside move on without her.
She sucked in a long, deep trembling breath, and then slowly let it out.She couldn’t go down that rabbit hole—not again.Not today.
“I’m tired, Margot,” she said softly.“Every part of me is tired.”
