The Calendar of New Beginnings by Ava Miles Page A

He’d read basically all the psychology books ever written about children and grief, and they all agreed on that point. He’d heard the same things from the child psychologists he’d spoken to in preparation for ushering his son through their shared loss.
    Heaven wasn’t a tangible concept to a five-year-old, he’d realized early on, but even young kids understood angels. He’d told Danny that his mother was an angel in this beautiful place called heaven, which was kind of like a magical garden where everyone you loved who’d died came to live with you. Danny had liked the thought of his mom being with her grandma, who’d taught her how to quilt. Andy hadn’t seen the harm in telling his son those stories. They were a comfort, a balm.
    But this… How was he supposed to keep Danny from wanting to leave an assortment of Kim’s favorite things at her gravesite? He rolled his shoulders to relieve the tightness and felt Moira put her hand on his back in support.
    “Danny,” Lucy said, clearing her throat, causing everyone to look at her. “Your dad is right. The ancient Egyptians had a different way of saying goodbye to the people they loved. Why, almost every place I go has a special way.”
    Andy had to bite his tongue to keep from telling Lucy to stop talking. Judging from the puzzled look on his son’s face, she was only making things worse.
    “But do you know what, Danny?” she continued, staring earnestly at his son. “The one your dad chose for your mom is absolutely the best. Because he’s the best and smartest dad ever. Right?”
    And then Lucy smiled—that smile that transformed everything around her.
    Danny grinned back. “Right. He is the best and smartest dad ever!”
    To punctuate the sentiment, his son turned in his seat and gave him a smile big enough to fill the world with sweetness. Andy felt his stomach settle back into his gut as Moira patted him on the back.
    All of the adults around him released slow breaths.
    Lucy met his gaze briefly before returning her laser-like focus to Danny. “Did I tell you about the time I took a horse and rode through the ancient ruins of Petra like Indiana Jones? Please tell me you’ve seen the Indiana Jones movies. They’re like your dad’s favorites.”
    “Of course I’ve seen them!” Danny said. “But Dad has me close my eyes for the scary parts.”
    “Like the scene where all the bugs crawl over them?” Lucy asked, gagging. “I hate that part!”
    “We’re not supposed to say ‘hate,’ Miss Lucy,” Danny said quietly. “Right, Dad?”
    “Right,” he answered, leaning over and kissing Danny on the top of his head because he needed to. Frankly, all he wanted to do was down Lucy’s Jameson, take his kid home, and tuck him into bed.
    “Oopsy daisy,” Lucy said with a shrug, doing her best to lessen the tension at the table. “Guess I’m still learning what’s okay to say. You keep reminding me. Okay, Danny?”
    “Okay,” Danny said, bouncing in his seat. “Have you ever seen—”
    “How about you and me find the foosball table?” Matt interrupted, standing up. “I’m in the mood for a little competition.”
    Andy knew his brother was trying to give him a moment to recover his balance, and he appreciated it. Danny’s questions were becoming more inquisitive as his mind developed. Sometimes Andy wondered how many times he’d have to deflect a particularly tough question about death and how it related to Kim.  
    The hardest part was that he knew it wasn’t going to end any time soon—as a little person grew, so did his questions. Right now, Andy was looking at somewhere around ten more years of this line of questioning. It stretched before him like an open-plank bridge over a gorge.
    The rest of their party stood too. Lucy sought his eyes, and in them, Andy could see her regret for her earlier comments. He smiled at her to assure her it wasn’t her fault.
    Blake picked Danny up and threw him in the air, causing him to squeal.