to her feet, a smile fighting to turn up the corners of her mouth. What difference would a few more minutes make when they were already going to be late? Moments like these kept her going while everything else crashed around her.
Josh’s smile. His fits of giggles. The imagination he’d inherited from his father. Mark was dead, but he lived on through his carrot-topped son. Nothing could ever fill the hole left by Mark’s premature passing, but Josh kept her heart from hollowing.
“Time to leave,” she told him after a few minutes more of play.
“Where are we going?” Stopping mid-zoom, Josh still held the blocks in the air.
“Remember I told you about the potluck at church tonight?”
He shook his head. “What’s a potluck?”
“Everyone brings something to eat and shares with everyone else.”
“Will there be cookies?” A hopeful smile appeared.
Lyndsey chuckled. “I imagine Mrs. Di will bring hers.”
“Yippee.” Cookies trumped toys, at least for today, and Josh discarded the blocks during his sprint to her. “I’m ready.”
Eyebrows raised, she looked at his white socks. “Put away your toys and then put your shoes on. Mommy will tie them for you.”
While Josh ran to his room, ignoring the toys, Lyndsey went to her bathroom to perform a quick application of makeup. She dabbed concealer on the dark circles of worry under her lackluster green eyes. Was that really her reflection? Where was her sparkle that Mark had loved so much? Would he be horrified to see his youthful bride was now a haggard mom just barely holding on? The stress from the last several years had aged her so that she looked a decade older than her thirty years.
But even the aged woman who stared back at her appeared too young to be a widow.
Some days she thought the first year after Mark’s death was easier to handle than what she felt now. That first year and into the second, shock and grief had left her numb. For Josh’s sake, she continued on, albeit in automatic motions, but in recent months, she was coming out of that coma and having to face the reality of life without her husband.
Part of coming back to life was feeling again, and the truth was—feelings hurt. More than anyone could imagine unless they’d been there. It was sharp pains that sliced through her at random times, and it was a constant ache that constricted her lungs until she couldn’t breathe.
“Found my shoes, Mommy.” Josh stood at the bathroom door, his dirty shoelaces a tangled mess. “I tried tying them myself.”
“I see that.” She blinked away the sullen thoughts, replacing them with a smile. Kneeling down, she undid the knots and tied Josh’s laces in a proper fashion. Before she stood, she kissed his cheek.
Twenty minutes later, she pulled into the church parking lot, dismayed to see people milling about. She’d hoped to make a quiet entry, not drawing attention to her empty hands, something she didn’t think would be a problem since they were late.
“Didn’t you say everyone’s s’posed to bring something?” Josh asked as she unbuckled his seatbelt.
“Yes.” She cringed, imagining where the questioning would lead.
“Then what did we bring?” He hopped from his seat then onto the ground.
“Nothing this time, sweetheart.” She bit her bottom lip, praying he wouldn’t launch into twenty questions.
His hand reached for hers, standard parking lot protocol. “Why not?”
“I just didn’t.”
“But you said we’re s’posed to, and you told me to always do things we’re s’posed to do.” Stopping his small stride, he looked at her for an answer.
She couldn’t negate four-year-old logic. “The oven broke, so I couldn’t cook anything and didn’t have time to make anything else. I’ll make two things next time.”
“Okay.” Satisfied, Josh smiled then suddenly jerked away, about to break into a run. “I see Damien.”
Lyndsey lurched out an arm to grab him, but he was too fast. “Joshua Devin
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