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“What did Adam do?” Grandma asks, startling me.
“You scared me,” I tell her.
She shrugs. “Would’ve heard me if you weren’t trying to remove my tile.” I prop it against the wall and take a deep breath, not wanting her to see how upset I am. My feelings aren’t important, Adam’s are, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t ache that I found out from someone else that his parents are gone. I explain about the accident, leaving out specifics as I don’t have them, and watch tears fill her eyes. “He’s a good boy, Ember.”
“I know he is. It’s just…why didn’t he tell me himself?”
“His whole world just changed, sweetheart. He’s not thinking clearly.”
“I’m his best friend,” I unnecessarily state, though I wish I was more.
“Then you should be with him.”
I share my fear. “I don’t think he wants me there.”
“Perhaps that’s exactly what he wants, but he isn’t asking because he knows we need you here. Maybe he’s trying to keep it together and has to shut everything else off so he can.” That’s Adam to a t, and I should’ve remembered that before having all the feels and letting them rule me, hurt me.
“I’m a bad friend.”
“No, my dear, you’re a great one, which is why you’re upset he didn’t reach out so you can help. Go pack your things.”
“I don’t want to leave you and grandpa. You still need me.”
“I’ll make some calls. People will help. We could’ve asked them in the beginning, but we wanted to see you.”
That gets a grin from me. “Bit extreme, don’t you think? Grandpa having knee surgery to get me to visit.” She laughs, then shoos me from the kitchen as she grabs the broom, tapping my ass as I go to hurry me along.
–––
Not even half an hour later, I’m on the road. Twenty minutes after that, I get a speeding ticket. It’s deserved, but it doesn’t stop me from doing it again as soon as I’m out of their line of sight. Thankfully, I’m not pulled over for the rest of the drive and make good time getting home. I’m sure the town is rallying around Adam and his siblings, making space there at a premium, so I park in my usual spot at home and walk next door. I’m eager to see him, hug him, but also worried about my reception.
If it’s not welcome, then I’ll leave. No, that’s a lie. Adam can’t do this alone. Whether he wants help or not, he’s getting it.
**Adam**
I’m barely keeping it together, though I’m putting on a hell of a show otherwise when there are eyes on me. And they always seem to be. That could be my paranoia as I feel like I’m constantly under surveillance, that whoever is watching is just watching for me to mess up. Then they’ll swoop in and take my siblings. Camden and Riley, at least. I can’t, won’t, let that happen.
We all woke up this morning, though I doubt any of us actually got any sleep, and raced to the kitchen. I think we were hoping yesterday evening had just been a nightmare. That we’d walk in the kitchen and see dad trying to steal a piece of bacon from the huge plate mom always made us. She’d pretend she didn’t see him and he’d act like he got away with it.
When the room was empty, no cooking sounds, no music playing softly in the background, no parents…the four of us had quietly turned to go back upstairs where we entered our respective rooms. Like if we tried it again, the outcome would be different.
Spoiler alert, it wasn’t. Not the second nor the third. By then, none of us had an appetite and we sat around, wishing we could put off what we had to do next. Unfortunately, we couldn’t, and the doorbell started up shortly after that.
Our neighbors, our friends, gave us space to grieve in private last night. This afternoon they’re arriving en masse. As are the casseroles and various other dishes. I could send them away, claim we need more time, but their presence gives us something else to think about. Not to mention the plethora of food that has me wondering where we’re going to put it all. “Nash?”
“I’m on it,” he agrees, not needing me to say anything else. The kitchen as a whole is his domain. He and mom shared a mutual love for it and it created a special bond between them. They loved making old recipes, those that have been passed down for generations, and creating new ones in the hopes they’d be good enough to join them. He realized it’s his calling and he wants to become a chef.
I’m going to make sure he accomplishes that goal. With some help from our parents, of course. There is nothing they loved more than each other and us, which is why they took steps to ensure we’d be covered if the unthinkable transpired.
Which it did.
Being the oldest, dad and I would frequently talk about responsibility. During those conversations, I learned how to be a man. What it took to have a family and what I needed to do in order to keep it. Because of that, I’m not left floundering as I try to figure out what comes next. I’ve got a list going of what that is and I’m trying to ignore how insurmountable it seems.
I wish like hell Ember was here. It’s my own fault that she’s not. All I have to do is call her, text her, just reach out in any way and she’d be here without hesitation. But I can’t.
She needs to follow her own path, not hitch her wagon to a guy who, essentially, just became a single parent. I need to know she’s chasing after her dreams, and while she’s on that path, that she has the chance to meet and fall in love with a guy that can give her the happily ever after she deserves. And I need to let her, regardless of how much the mere idea of another giving her that makes a primal scream of rage want to rip from my throat.
It should be me!
