I raise a single brow. “Eat?”
“Ugh, you’re such a man. I meant about winning over Maddie.”
If there was a perfect solution, I would explain it to her now. But I don’t have one. Not yet. “I’m working on it.” Not screwing it up sounds like a decent game plan.
“Ooh, I have an idea. I could use you and Maddie during my lesson, and we could have like a fake wedding and—”
“Nope. Stop right there. You may take your nose out of my business now.” I wad up a taco wrapper and drop it in the takeout bag.
“Fine.” She sighs and tosses her own wrapper at my face. “I guess I’ll go shopping for things I don’t need because my little brother doesn’t want to spend time with me.”
For once, that statement doesn’t fill me with dread. In fact, if she asks me for a twenty, I might give it to her.
“Have fun!” I wave her off.
She sticks her tongue out at me before snatching another taco. So mature. She’s going to annoy her next roommate. And that makes me incredibly happy. We’ve both been researching apartments, far enough away I won’t have to trip over her messes again, but close enough I’ll always be able to keep an eye on her.
She stands from the table. “Don’t forget, we’re throwing a party this Friday.”
“Aren’t other people supposed to throwusa going away party instead of throwing one for ourselves?”
“They’d just do it wrong.” She grabs her keys off the table, then leads the pups to their kennel.
I’m in such a good mood, I don’t even care if she makes me dress up for her themed going away party. I’ll wear a flipping tutu if it means I get to feel this way forever.
She leaves, and I polish off the tacos, clearing the kitchen completely before I head out to my truck with the flowers I picked up earlier.
The drive to the cemetery passes in a haze of happiness instead of the usual somberness. I pluck the fresh daisies off the front seat. Mom loved daisies. She loved all things beautiful. She would have loved Maddie. Not because she’s beautiful, but because she’s feisty and stubborn, too—what my mom always said would be good for me. Someone strong enough to push me when I needed it, but gentle enough to ground me when I get overwhelmed.
My feet take me to my parent’s headstone, and I gently lay the flowers in the middle. “I think it’s working, Mom. After all I’ve screwed up, I think I’m finally making things right again.”
I settle onto the grass, enjoying the sun on my skin in a way I haven’t for years. “With Maddie at least. That’s why I’m here tonight. To apologize.” I take a deep breath. I don’t know if they can hear me, and I don’t know if that makes my guilt better or worse. “I’m sorry I couldn’t figure out how to keep the house. We tried everything.” I stop talking and listen, pretending if I’m quiet enough, I’ll hear her tell me it’s okay.
The sprinklers click on somewhere in the distance, and the calming “chh chh chh“ of the water relaxes me.
“I think if you were here, you’d be glad to see us happy. But if not, please haunt Millie and not me. She’d probably love it.”
I lean back, smiling at the cloudless sky. “The realtor came over yesterday. He says it’s the perfect time to sell, and we might actually make some money. I’m not going to get my hopes up yet.” I pluck a dandelion and pop off the head with my thumb like a child. “And Millie is free of that loser. I swear, worrying over her choices nearly gave me an ulcer. Is that what parenting is like? I don’t know if I can handle kids.”
Unless I have someone else to worry with me. Someone smart and sassy enough to keep us all in line.
“My mom said her kids were all she did right.” A young voice breaks through my thoughts.
I turn to find the boy. The same one as last time. Max. There’s no bike this time. I glance around for his dad, but he’s here alone again.
“You had a good mom,” I say thoughtfully.
He nods, running his fingers over the engraved letters of his mother’s new headstone. Tears slip down his cheeks.
I stand and retrieve a few daisies from my mom’s bouquet then offer them to him.
“Thanks.” He eagerly takes them and spends the next two minutes painfully deciding where they should go. He moves them back and forth all over the headstone, gently placing them with love. When he’s content, he plops onto the grass.
“We don’t have money for flowers.” He sighs. “We don’t have money for anything.”
Poor kid. If it’s bad enough that he’s picking up on it, then the situation must be dire.
“Does your dad know you’re here?” I ask.
