“Let’s get you some juice.”
“Eggs, toast, bacon?” Dana believed food could solve most problems.
“Toast, please.” Kayla’s voice was sad as she slid into a chair at the kitchen table. She curled one arm around her pig and held it against her cheek.
Dana popped bread into the toaster and poured the beaten eggs into a pan.
Bree heard thumps on the floor overhead. A few minutes later, footsteps thundered on the stairs. Her nephew, Luke, hurried into the room dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt.
He poured himself a glass of milk. “Morning.”
“Morning,” Bree said.
Dana slid a plate in front of him, and he shoveled its contents into his mouth. He seemed to burn calories faster than he could consume them, and his milk habit had increased to three gallons a week. He’d grown two inches since January. At this rate, he’d need new jeans every three months.
“I’ll be late tonight,” he said between bites.
“Baseball practice?” Bree asked.
“Uh-huh.” After pushing his empty plate away, Luke grabbed a jacket and headed for the door. “I’ll feed the horses.”
Luke was still sad, but he seemed to have adjusted to their new normal. For the past week, though, he’d been abnormally quiet. Bree stepped into her boots and followed him outside. She walked into the barn, where the smell of horses, grain, and hay greeted her. She paused to scratch Pumpkin’s forehead. The Haflinger was pony size, though Kayla had informed Bree he was technically a horse. True to his breed, he was a willing, friendly, and sturdy animal.
Luke was not as talkative as Kayla. Rather than pry his feelings out of him, Bree found directness and honesty the best approach with the teenager.
“Kayla is having a tough time with Mother’s Day coming up.” She leaned on the stall door and waited.
Luke emerged from the feed room with three plastic containers. He went into each stall and dumped pellets. The barn filled with the sounds of horses nosing in their buckets and munching feed. Next he dumped and refilled water buckets. Bree gave each horse a few flakes of hay.
Luke stopped in the middle of the aisle. “I’m just trying to keep busy.”
“It’s OK to be sad, and it’s OK not to be OK.”
“I know.” He sighed. “The thing is, I’m tired. I don’t want to be sad anymore.” His brows drew together into a low V. “But it feels like I’m being, I don’t know . . .” He struggled for a word. “Disloyal.”
“That’s natural, but your mom would want you to be happy. You know that. She would want you to have a good life. Your happiness was her priority.” Tears clogged Bree’s throat. “We’ll never forget her. She’ll live in our hearts forever. But we also need to find a way to move forward.”
“I don’t know how to do that.” Luke looked lost.
“Me either. Maybe we can figure it out together.” Bree cleared her throat. “Maybe we should think about spreading your mom’s ashes somewhere she loved.”
The wooden chest full of Erin’s ashes had been in a closet since her death in January. The kids hadn’t been ready to make a decision then, but maybe it was time to lay her to rest. Maybe by doing so, Luke could put aside his guilt over moving forward.
Luke’s eyes misted. “Yeah. It feels wrong that she’s in a box. She wouldn’t like that.”
“Think about a place.”
He wiped a sleeve across his face. “Mom would want to be outside.”
“I agree.” Bree pushed off the door. As she passed her nephew, she put a hand on his shoulder. “No pressure. There’s no rush. Take your time. I’m always available to talk if you need it.”
Luke nodded. Bree left the barn, giving him space. Unlike Kayla, the teen needed alone time to process his feelings. She went into the kitchen and left her barn boots by the door.
Kayla ate half her toast, then slipped out of her chair and carried her pig into the living room. Bree mentally tried to reshuffle her schedule, but she saw no outs. She dragged a hand through her hair, shoving still-damp strands behind her ear. She waited for Kayla to turn on the TV in the other room, then lowered her voice and summed up her conversation with Luke for Dana.
“This feels like a major move forward for him,” Dana said. “But we should keep an eye on him for signs that he’s not handling it well.”
“I can’t take off today. I have a meeting with a member of the county