“Then she’d sneak them after bed,” I said, and he snickered, likely remembering how she was overly careful with her diet but couldn’t help indulging every now and again. Her health was the one thing that always hung over our heads. The stroke had left her with a weakened right arm, and she sometimes wore a brace. But in the end, I wished she’d allowed herself to indulge more. “Which was fine by me because they’re not my favorite.”
“Mine neither. Who wants to eat healthy-sounding cookies when there’s chocolate?”
I chuckled. It was always a family debate and one of the only times Grant sided with me.
“Exactly.”
We stared at the lake for a few seconds more, both of us trying to get up the courage in our own ways. It felt serene being near the water again. In fact, Rebecca and I originally lived in a nearby neighborhood until we found our first home on the east side, closer to her parents and my father. Cleveland Heights was a distance from the lake, so the ride here was always a pleasant one, with the boats and the downtown skyline in view.
“What do you call a fish wearing a bow tie?” I asked with my hand on the door handle. It was showtime, and even if I wasn’t feeling up to it, I needed to act the part. At least for my child.
He rolled his eyes. “What?”
“Sofishticated,” I replied, pushing the door open.
He groaned, but I spotted the hint of a smile, which was just the effect I wanted. “You’ll have to work on your dad jokes. That was pretty bad.”
“Noted,” I said as I rounded the car, and we inched toward the pavilion.
Rebecca would’ve said the same. It was a ridiculous thing I’d started when Grant was in sixth grade and being teased relentlessly by classmates, and apparently, it’d stuck. Middle school had been a challenge for him, so I was relieved when he’d found his stride in high school.
“Wait, I forgot my jacket,” he said, handing me the plate and turning back.
Following behind him, I pointed the key fob at the car, unable to stop the words from forming. “It’s really hot out. You sure you shouldn’t leave that in the—”
“I’m sure,” he said, yanking it from the back seat, then slamming the door. “Mom never cared what I wore.”
His words delivered like a dagger, and I stepped back, my legs momentarily unsteady. “Watch your tone,” I warned. “I know you miss Mom, and so do I. But like it or not, we still need to navigate through life together.”
He grumbled under his breath as he slipped the heavy coat over his shoulders.
I was the overprotective and unreasonable one in the family. The one always worried that Grant would be bullied again. But somehow, my tone resembled my own father’s disapproving one a little too well. Still, I wasn’t going to allow Grant to call the shots. I was the parent.
Thankfully, my mother-in-law, Donna, flagged us over right then, and I could feel Grant relax as we greeted them with hugs. He loved his grandparents, and they’d been quite accommodating since Rebecca’s passing, even though they were grieving too. They showed up at all of Grant’s school events and made dinners when I was running late at work. They helped get us through the overwhelming moments. Between them and my monthly grief group, I was slowly coming out on the other side.
Speaking of the grief group, I didn’t see Tristan anywhere and felt a bit disappointed. We’d immediately connected as outliers in the family, only related by marriage, and both having lost our significant others—Tristan’s late husband was Rebecca’s cousin. Tristan had referred me to the group at this event last year. Said it helped him not feel so alone when he was grieving Chris’s death.
“How’s work?” one of the great-aunts asked, taking the plate of brownies off my hands. Grant had gone off with his younger cousins, who asked him about his hat and begged him to play a game of cornhole. He’d rolled his eyes when his grandfather had nudged him in their direction, but I think he enjoyed helping them and being admired in return.
“Busy, as usual,” I told her. I was an electrician for a well-known company, and there was plenty on my plate these days.
“Pete says the same,” she replied, referring to her husband, who was a roofer. He’d mentioned once how busy he was in the summer months. “I, on the other hand, am enjoying my summer off from teaching.”
I smiled. “I’ll bet.”
As I moved closer to the cooler of beverages, I became reacquainted with the other family members and tried like hell to field all the questions and stories about Rebecca because I knew they meant well. Rebecca had always acted as a buffer and did most of the talking at these things, but in her absence, I was learning to hold my own.