cupcakes instead of one and didn’t bother to heat up the lasagna. You eat more when you’re really happy, and nothing, not even cold food, can stop you.”
I glanced down at my plate and laughed.
“So, are you going to tell me about him?”
I shrugged. My mouth was so full that it was hard to talk.
“It’s okay. I’ll wait until you’re high on chocolate, and then I’ll ask you again.”
Mom was one of my best friends. She knew me better than anyone, even Frankie. The reason I hadn’t called wasn’t because I was too busy. It was because the second she heard my voice, she’d know something was up, and she’d start asking questions. I didn’t want to get into all that. Talking about men who didn’t matter was easy. But something about Trapper mattered even if that something was small and just a real heavy spark, and that made him harder to discuss.
“Is this peanut butter frosting on the inside?” I covered my mouth as I talked and chewed.
“You like? I tried something new.”
“Oh my God.” I scooped up a glob of it and licked it off my finger. “With the chocolate frosting on top, it brings this cupcake to a whole different level.”
“Your father thinks so, too.”
I went back to the lasagna, leaving the second cupcake for dessert.
“Have you heard from Cody’s mom?” She knew Cody’s mom still checked in with me pretty often.
“Not in the last few weeks,” I said. “But with the anniversary coming up, I’m sure she’ll be calling pretty soon.”
“Two years,” she said sadly. “It’s hard to believe it’s been that long. It has to be so difficult on her. I can’t even imagine…”
Mom had lived with me for a few weeks after Cody’s death. I hadn’t asked her to, but she knew I needed her. Someone had to take care of me, make sure I was still alive and breathing, because there had been moments when things had gotten pretty dark…
“I can’t feel anything but pain, Mom. There’s so much of it. It’s stabbing me, and it won’t stop. And—” I gasped as the words got stuck in my throat. It was so sore and dry my tongue barely wanted to move.
“I know, baby girl.”
“He’s gone.”
She was rubbing circles over my knee, and I stopped her. The love, the compassion, the understanding—it all hurt.
“He left. He’s…he’s not coming back and…” I wrapped my arms around my stomach because I couldn’t stand it anymore. The pain was unbearable. It pushed so hard into my belly that it made me want to gag. “Ow,” I groaned.
“The doctor says the pain in your tummy will go away if you just eat something. So, you have to eat, Brea. Please. For me.”
As I shook my head, the tears streamed off my chin. “No. I can’t. I…I just can’t.”
“Baby”—her hands cupped my face—“you’ve got to breathe, or you’re going to hyperventilate.”
I cried out from the pain as I took a deep one, and I did it again as I took another. She grabbed something off the floor and held it to my face to wipe my cheeks. It was thicker than a tissue. It was…a shirt.
A red one.
One that didn’t belong to me.
“Oh God,” I whimpered.
I pulled it from her hands and buried my face in it. He’d worn it just a few days ago when we’d gone out to dinner. I could smell his cologne.
I could almost feel him in it.
His clothes were what had sent me to my closet in the first place. To smell him. To surround myself with the only things I had of his. But I had gotten so weak in the doorway, I’d fallen to my knees and crawled under my rack of jeans. That was where I was sitting now in a tight ball with Mom’s face in my neck and her arms hugging my shoulders.
“I didn’t know, my love.” She kissed my cheek. “I didn’t know the shirt was Cody’s.”
“It’s difficult on all of us, Mom.”
She popped in a cough drop once her sneezing attack was over. “You’ve done incredibly well this past year,” she said. “I just don’t want you to move
I glanced down at my plate and laughed.
“So, are you going to tell me about him?”
I shrugged. My mouth was so full that it was hard to talk.
“It’s okay. I’ll wait until you’re high on chocolate, and then I’ll ask you again.”
Mom was one of my best friends. She knew me better than anyone, even Frankie. The reason I hadn’t called wasn’t because I was too busy. It was because the second she heard my voice, she’d know something was up, and she’d start asking questions. I didn’t want to get into all that. Talking about men who didn’t matter was easy. But something about Trapper mattered even if that something was small and just a real heavy spark, and that made him harder to discuss.
“Is this peanut butter frosting on the inside?” I covered my mouth as I talked and chewed.
“You like? I tried something new.”
“Oh my God.” I scooped up a glob of it and licked it off my finger. “With the chocolate frosting on top, it brings this cupcake to a whole different level.”
“Your father thinks so, too.”
I went back to the lasagna, leaving the second cupcake for dessert.
“Have you heard from Cody’s mom?” She knew Cody’s mom still checked in with me pretty often.
“Not in the last few weeks,” I said. “But with the anniversary coming up, I’m sure she’ll be calling pretty soon.”
“Two years,” she said sadly. “It’s hard to believe it’s been that long. It has to be so difficult on her. I can’t even imagine…”
Mom had lived with me for a few weeks after Cody’s death. I hadn’t asked her to, but she knew I needed her. Someone had to take care of me, make sure I was still alive and breathing, because there had been moments when things had gotten pretty dark…
“I can’t feel anything but pain, Mom. There’s so much of it. It’s stabbing me, and it won’t stop. And—” I gasped as the words got stuck in my throat. It was so sore and dry my tongue barely wanted to move.
“I know, baby girl.”
“He’s gone.”
She was rubbing circles over my knee, and I stopped her. The love, the compassion, the understanding—it all hurt.
“He left. He’s…he’s not coming back and…” I wrapped my arms around my stomach because I couldn’t stand it anymore. The pain was unbearable. It pushed so hard into my belly that it made me want to gag. “Ow,” I groaned.
“The doctor says the pain in your tummy will go away if you just eat something. So, you have to eat, Brea. Please. For me.”
As I shook my head, the tears streamed off my chin. “No. I can’t. I…I just can’t.”
“Baby”—her hands cupped my face—“you’ve got to breathe, or you’re going to hyperventilate.”
I cried out from the pain as I took a deep one, and I did it again as I took another. She grabbed something off the floor and held it to my face to wipe my cheeks. It was thicker than a tissue. It was…a shirt.
A red one.
One that didn’t belong to me.
“Oh God,” I whimpered.
I pulled it from her hands and buried my face in it. He’d worn it just a few days ago when we’d gone out to dinner. I could smell his cologne.
I could almost feel him in it.
His clothes were what had sent me to my closet in the first place. To smell him. To surround myself with the only things I had of his. But I had gotten so weak in the doorway, I’d fallen to my knees and crawled under my rack of jeans. That was where I was sitting now in a tight ball with Mom’s face in my neck and her arms hugging my shoulders.
“I didn’t know, my love.” She kissed my cheek. “I didn’t know the shirt was Cody’s.”
“It’s difficult on all of us, Mom.”
She popped in a cough drop once her sneezing attack was over. “You’ve done incredibly well this past year,” she said. “I just don’t want you to move
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