Brody - Ellie Masters Page 0,99
my face and sit outside, I think. I’ve said my goodbyes, and I honestly don’t think I can handle dealing with the...”
I can’t say it. Most definitely, I’ll fall apart if I have to be there watching strangers carry out my mother’s body.
“Do that.” Mark gives a sharp nod of his head.
Movement in the kitchen draws my attention. Abbie is there, wiping her hands on her apron. Like the rest of us, her eyes are red and swollen. I step apart from Brody and go to Abbie.
“I’m so sorry, sweetie.” The moment Abbie draws me into her arms, tears pour out of me, and I sob with overwhelming loss.
It’s an ebb and flow. I studied up on grief and know how this is supposed to go, but knowing it is one thing. Living through it is a whole other monster.
“I made tea and sandwiches.” Abbie leans back and gestures at the tray of food. “Brody, come and carry the tray out back. Let’s sit in your mother’s garden for a bit, why don’t we?”
Nodding is the only form of communication I appear capable of at the moment. While Abbie draws me outside, Brody carries the platter stacked with food.
We settle down at an outdoor patio table in the middle of Mom’s rose garden. The white dove is back at the birdbath and looks at me again. Brody places the tray on the table and sets a pitcher of iced tea beside it.
Mom’s favorite finger sandwiches decorate the tray, reminding me I haven’t eaten all day. My stomach rumbles and I can’t help but smile.
Life goes on.
Funny the things I cling to, but the idea I can be hungry gives me hope. My life’s not over, and while Mom won’t be here to share in it, there will always be a piece of her in my heart.
“There’s a smile.” Abbie turns over three of the four cups and fills them with tea. “Let’s get some food in you.” Without waiting for me to ask, she places two of the finger sandwiches on a plate and sets it before me. Abbie then sits opposite me, while Brody sits beside me. “Tell me everything about last night.” Her attention shifts to Brody. “That was the night of the event, right? I want to know how it went.”
And just like that, Abbie takes my mind off my grief, if only for a moment. She encourages and keeps me talking, asking about every detail down to the color of the napkins to the fanciest dresses I saw. When my words trail off, Brody picks up, continuing our replay of last night.
It helps.
It helps because Abbie reminds me I have a purpose, one I’m growing to love. At first, taking on a vineyard seemed daunting. It wasn’t anything I hoped I would be doing, but this is home, and it’s all mine now. I’m excited for the future. Excited about what I can make of Atwood Estates.
And honestly, I believe Abbie is a worker of miracles because she makes me smile, and laugh, and not feel like I’m so alone. As for Brody, his words tumble in my head, and I can’t help but hope we have a future together as well.
The worst day of my life isn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Sometime later, Mark joins us. I notice a hearse pull up outside the house and choose to ignore it. When it pulls away from the house, the four of us pause our conversation to watch it drive away.
“Your mother was an incredible woman, Grace.” Abbie reaches across the table and takes my hand in hers. “I consider it an honor to have been her friend.”
And there it is. We now speak of Mom in past-tense.
“Excuse me.” I shoot to my feet and sprint toward the house. The kitchen door bangs as I run inside and race up to my room to sob.
The steady tread of boots sounds on the stairs beside me. My bedroom door squeaks as it’s gently pushed open. The bed dips beside me as Brody sits, then I’m in his arms again, where I curl against his chest and cry until exhaustion pulls me down to a dreamless sleep.
Thirty-Six
Grace
The night is fitful. I toss and turn, but every time I wake, Brody is right there beside me. He doesn’t push me to talk but gives me space to grieve as I struggle to make it through the first night without my mother.
He does the same in