I sit up, and she smiles, taking a deep breath. She looks relieved, as if she’s said everything she needs to. Like she’s ready to let go.
And maybe it’s time that I let her let go.
“Come her.” I gesture for her to rest her head on my shoulder, and I wrap my arm around her the second she does.
“You’re my greatest accomplishment, Zeke,” she says. “I can leave this world knowing I got one thing right.”
“You got a lot of things right, Mom.”
“Maybe,” she whispers. “Maybe.”
I close my eyes, finding peace in the silence. It’s nice to be with her like this. The moment feels content.
And then I hear it, well, I smell it first. It’s always been my favorite scent, an Illinois rain.
I open my eyes, watching the light drizzle fall over the garden, and smile.
“Mom,” I begin, “it’s raining.”
I look down at her, her eyes closed, her face peaceful.
Her chest not moving.
“Mom?” I grab her hand. “Mommy?”
The tears sting my eyes as they make their slow escape. I’ve thought about this moment for years, but it doesn’t feel like I thought it would.
I feel relieved.
She got what she wanted. To go on her own terms outside of that hospital room.
She wanted to go with the rain…
And I had to let her.
fifty-one
Avalon
You haven’t seen him since she died?” Ember asks. We’re sitting on the floor in Brinley’s room with Brinley, Maia, and Tate.
“I drove him home from the hospital that day,” I reply. “But he asked me to give him space, and I needed to respect that.”
“Declan says he hasn’t been out of his room since you brought him home,” Brinley adds. “The guys are worried about him.”
“I am too,” I admit. “Elise asked me to look after him and I feel like I’m failing her.”
“You can’t blame yourself, Avalon. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped,” Ember continues.
“Fletcher says he’s been drinking a lot,” Tate sighs. “He’s getting liquor by the handle and just sitting in his room and drinking.”
I hate this. I hate feeling like there’s nothing I can do for Zeke. I want to understand what he’s going through. I’ve lost two parents, but not in the way he has.
And I wasn’t close with them like he was with his mom. I feel like I won’t say the right things when I see him. If I’m being honest, I’m kind of relieved I haven’t seen him since his mom died for that reason.
“I don’t know how I’d react if I lost my mom,” Brinley responds. “I’d probably spiral myself. And Zeke, he’s taken care of her for years; it’s like he had a void he doesn’t know how to fill and—”
“Alcohol does that,” I cut her off.