Page 148 of Anything But Lonely

“We all did.”

“It was Daddy’s idea!” Crew says, unbuckling his car seat and pulling at his door handle, even though Mateo hasn’t unlocked the car yet.

Mateo looks shy all of a sudden, and even though I can’t see the tips of his ears under his beanie, I know they’re turning red.

I lean in, pressing a kiss to his lips. His hand goes to the side of my face, a thumb wiping the tear escaping the corner of my eye.

I can’t believe he kept this all a secret from me.

For months, the three of us have been visiting my mom’s grave, at least once a week. Sometimes I go there by myself, set out a blanket, and just tell her all about everything that comes to mind. Other times, I bring my laptop and work on freelance jobs, just wanting to feel close to her.

My therapist says there’s no right way to do this whole grieving thing, and it’s up to me when it comes to finding ways to miss my mom while also choosing to remember her.

There are nights I lie awake, angry at the world that I’m living this beautiful life I didn’t know could be mine, and she’s not here to witness it.

But I tell myself that she’s here, in everything I do. In the love I have for Mateo and the love I show Crew. She taught me that a life filled with love is a life worth living, because it makes the hardships and bad days and pain more bearable.

For a moment, I just sit there and take it all in. The surprise of it, the love behind it, the sheer number of people who have shown up—not just for a cause, but for her. For my mom. I look down at the pink sweater I’m wearing, laughing to myself that I chose to wear it today of all days.

The November afternoon feels impossibly bright, the kind of day she would have loved: music drifting through the air, kids running around with painted faces and sticky fingers, families gathered together over plates of food, and laughter rising above the hum of conversation.

Rumi tells me they’ve been planning the benefit for weeks, working with the fire station to turn the parking lot into a place where people could come together, celebrate my mom’s life, and raise money for ovarian cancer research.

Ava points out the food trucks lined along the side of the lot, explaining that local businesses donated their time and a portion of their proceeds, while Georgie excitedly tells me about the kids’ area she helped Ava plan.

Crew tells me all about the importance of the color teal and how the balloons and decorations were meant to honor my mom and bring awareness to ovarian cancer.

Anderson tells me about how they built the stage this morning, and how it was Jack’s idea to have Mateo reach out to local bands to perform. For the rest of the afternoon, we watch some of the bands Mateo has been working with when he’s not too busy volunteering at the fire station perform.

Theo and Silas show up with their families, and Crew is so excited to see them that he almost knocks them to the ground when he runs at them full-speed.

At some point, Mateo’s hand slips from mine, but I’m busy talking to his sister that I don’t turn to see where he and Eddie go.

Since it’s November, it gets darker the longer the afternoon goes on, but the temperature stays comfortable—as if the universe doesn’t want this day to end either.

“The girls have been asking all week when they could help,” Mia tells me as we watch her twins, Nadia and Naomi play tag with Crew, glow sticks in their hands and around their necks like necklaces.

Every detail—the music, the food, the activities, the people—is another reminder that this wasn’t just an event someone organized. It was a community coming together to make sure my mom’s story didn’t end where her illness did.

And knowing that every dollar raised today will go toward ovarian cancer research and awareness makes it feel even more meaningful—that something good can come from the disease that takes so much.

A series of cheers draws our attention to the stage, but I look around for Mateo, expecting to find him coming back with another drink or plate of food.

“You guys thought you could get rid of us that easily?”

No fucking way.

A crowd instantly gathers around the stage, glowsticks lighting the darkness. Mateo takes his microphone from the stand, holding it in one hand as his eyes find mine.

Eddie sits down at his kit, holding his drumsticks over his head.

Theo makes sure his guitar is plugged into the amp as Silas waves at the crowd, and it feels like witnessing a Blue Moon.

Cross My Heart is over. They’re finished.

And while there’s no need to fall asleep listening to their songs on repeat when I have the real thing right there in my bed, I’m screaming so loud that my voice will be gone when I wake up tomorrow.

I didn’t think this day could get any better. I’m surrounded by the people I love, honoring my mom in a way she’d love, raising money for awareness and research…