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My turn came last. My fingers brushed over the locket I wore—a final gift from Mom that Dad had kept safe until my eighteenth birthday. I’d never taken it off since then. With trembling fingers, I unclasped it and laid it gently beside the baseball glove and the tiny dancer.
“This was Mom’s,” I said aloud, feeling Chad’s and Rachel’s gaze on me. “You kept it safe for me… now it’ll keep you safe.” The locket gleamed dully against the polished wood—a symbol of the love that had bound us all together.
A stifled sob broke from somewhere behind us as we stood there—a family fractured yet whole in our shared love for the man who had taught us so much about life and love.
“We’ll look after each other,” I promised quietly to Dad’s silent form. “Just like you looked after us.”
As we turned away, leaving a piece of our hearts with him, I felt Chad and Rachel’s hands grip mine with a strength that belied their years—a testament to the resilience Dad had instilled in us all. We walked back to our small gathering of friends and family, each step away from the casket feeling like both an end and a beginning.
As we walked away from the grave site, Cass kept pace with me. His quiet strength was my solace as we left behind the echoes of remembrance and stepped into the future—one where I’d carry on Dad’s legacy in ways I had yet to discover.
***
The lock gave a familiar click as I turned the key, but the sound seemed to echo in the empty space that awaited us on the other side. We stepped into the dimness of our family home and now the air felt thick with Dad’s absence.
Chad and Rachel shuffled in behind me, their small frames dwarfed by the doorway that had seen us grow from children into who we were now. Cass followed, closing the door with a soft click that felt like a period at the end of a long, run-on sentence. His hand rested lightly on my shoulder, grounding me.
“It feels weird,” Rachel whispered, her voice barely above the hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen.
“Yeah,” Chad’s voice was barely audible. “Too quiet.”
I glanced over at Cass, his blue eyes meeting mine with an understanding that words couldn’t capture. He was here for us—not as a savior or an outsider, but as someone who wanted to be part of our healing.
I led the way to the living room, switching on lamps as I went. The soft glow pushed back some of the shadows that seemed to loom around us, both literal and figurative. I sank onto the couch, patting the cushion beside me for Chad and Rachel.
“We’re going to be okay,” I said, more to convince myself than them. “We’ll stick together, just like Dad wanted.”
Chad nodded solemnly, while Rachel leaned her head against my arm. Cass sat across from us in Dad’s old armchair, watching silently.
In this room where we’d played games and watched movies together, where Dad had doled out life lessons and shared stories of Mom, I felt her presence now more than ever—like she was wrapping us in a warm embrace, whispering that she’d sent Cass to help fill the void she and Dad had left.
My mind drifted to my new role as guardian—protector and guide to these two incredible kids who’d already been through so much. I’d have to be stronger than I ever thought possible.
Chad broke through my thoughts. “Can we do something normal? Like make popcorn and watch a movie?” His voice held a hopeful note that tugged at my heartstrings.
“That sounds perfect,” I replied with a smile. “Let’s keep it light—comedy okay?”
Rachel nodded eagerly, a spark of her usual vibrancy flickering in her eyes. “Can Cass pick? He probably knows lots of funny movies we haven’t seen.”
I looked at Cass, raising an eyebrow in a playful challenge. He accepted it with a grin that reached his eyes—a welcome sight after today’s sorrow.
“Alright,” he said, standing up with purpose. “Let me show you my impeccable taste in cinematic humor.”
As Cass busied himself with finding something to lift our spirits on the TV, I headed to the kitchen with Chad and Rachel trailing behind me like ducklings.
In this small space where Dad had taught me how to flip pancakes and where we’d shared late-night snacks after Mom passed away, we worked together now—measuring kernels into the pot as Chad turned on the stove and Rachel fetched bowls from the cupboard.
The familiar scent of butter filled the air as kernels popped—a symphony for our senses and a ritual that made this night feel less heavy. We moved around each other with an ease born from years of living together but sharpened by our new reality.
Chad took charge of shaking the pot back and forth over the burner while Rachel set up our snack station on the coffee table in front of the couch. Cass lowered himself onto the floor beside her, helping arrange bowls and napkins like it was his everyday routine.
Settling back into the couch between Chad and Rachel as Cass hit play on his movie choice—an old movie about talking farm animals called ‘Babe’—I allowed myself to relax into this moment of normalcy.
Our laughter mingled with those from characters on screen—the first genuine joy we’d shared since Dad left us. In this act so simple yet profound, I found strength in our unity; this was how we would honor Dad—living fully, loving fiercely, just as he had taught us by example.
With every chuckle and shared glance between us four—siblings and Cass—I knew we weren’t alone in this journey forward. The path would be rough at times, no doubt about it, but we had each other…and somehow, that felt like enough.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
