Mind Games

“When I woke up, for a few seconds I didn’t remember. I didn’t remember what happened. I didn’t remember about Mom and Dad. Then I did. You weren’t there, and for a few seconds I was scared you were gone, too.”

“Oh, darling. I’m so sorry.”

“No, Grammie. You left a note right there on the pillow, so I wasn’t scared very long.”

To keep her hands busy, to will them not to tremble, Lucy started filtering the milk.

“I won’t leave you or Rem alone, and that’s a promise. Sit down, honeypot. I’ll make breakfast in a minute.”

“I’m not hungry, Grammie.”

“I know, neither am I. But we’re going to have to eat a little anyway. We need to eat and sleep so we can get through this.”

“I dreamed a memory, like you said. I dreamed the day we got here, and eating fried chicken and buttermilk biscuits. The dogs were wagging, and everybody was talking and laughing. We were all happy.”

“That’s a good one.” Lucy thought about screaming out her grief again, but she couldn’t.

She had children to protect.

“You can pick a good one anytime you need.”

She put the jug of fresh milk in the milk cooler before reaching for a mug for coffee.

“Can I have coffee, too?”

Lucy looked back into those sleep-starved, grieving eyes. “How about I make you a mug of what my mama always called coffee milk?”

“Okay.”

Thea said nothing as Lucy fixed up a mug—a lot of milk and sugar with enough coffee to flavor it. She just sat, watching Lucy’s every move. Under the table, her hands twisted together.

Instead of starting breakfast, Lucy sat at the table, took her first sip of morning coffee.

Thea tasted hers. “It’s good.”

“And I’m probably starting you on a lifetime addiction. Thea, I see worry on you. Tell me what worries you.”

Thea took another sip, then a long breath. “I—I need to know—”

They both heard Rem bounding down the stairs like a pack of wild dogs.

Lucy closed her eyes. She would crush his childhood, break his young, happy heart. She had no choice.

He came rushing in, all grins and energy. As if some of that energy came from an electric socket, his hair stuck out in all directions.

“There’s somebody outside and he’s feeding the ladies. I saw out the window. Did you hire somebody, Grammie?”

“No. That’s Will, and he’s doing me a favor.”

“I can help him, then we can all have buckwheat pancakes, ’cause I’m starving.”

“Will’s going to take care of it this morning. I need you to sit down here with us.”

He looked from face to face, and what he saw had the grin falling away from his. “What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No, sweet potato, you didn’t do anything wrong. Sit down here with us.” When he did, she took his hands in hers. “I have to tell you something, and it’s very hard.”

“Are you sick or something? You look sick.”