He laughed, his brown eyes beaming. “No, I’m not. You’re being silly.”
Tyler had grown an inch taller and lost a little bit of his baby face. His features were similar to Steve’s—sharp nose, high cheek bones, and square jaw—but sometimes when he smiled, he resembled my sister.
I dropped a big, fat, exaggerated kiss on his forehead and took his hand, leading him to the one-story house. Pampas grass and coconut trees ringed the front yard. We passed between two plumeria trees with yellow and white flowers on either side of the front walk.
The scent of sweet, ripe peaches embraced me when we entered. White plumeria flowers floated in a round glass bowl on the entryway table.
I slipped off my shoes and placed them next to Tyler’s on a shoe rack. It felt strange not to see any of Steve’s shoes, but my sister wouldn’t leave his things around. I’d never thought about something like missing shoes being part of grief.
My sister had lived in an upscale apartment in New York City, but when Steve passed away, she’d moved to Kauai, where they’d gone for their honeymoon. Being here seemed to give her peace.
“I love what you did to the place.” I glanced about the airy family room and set my purse on a wooden end table. “The pictures you sent didn’t do it justice.”
Abby waved a hand toward the hearth by the bookshelf. “I painted the stark white walls a warmer beige and put in hardwood floors before we moved in. It gave the house a new feel.”
“It does, and your oil paintings look absolutely breathtaking.” I went closer to examine a sun-soaked beach scene hanging beside the fireplace.
My sister had emailed me pictures of the landscapes of Kauai she’d painted but they were even more impressive in person. On the other side of the fireplace was a tropical mountain with a misty waterfall that gave the whole scene a pensive, slightly sad aura.
“I wanted to fill up the empty space. What’s an artist if they don’t display their work somewhere? Let me show you your room.” Abby took my other bag and carried both down a short hall. “This is your room.” She dropped my bags beside the bed. “It’s small, but so is the rest of the house.”
I sat on the bed, ignoring the damp and heavy material still clinging to me like a second layer of skin. I smoothed the flowered bedspread beside me. It had been a long day.
“It’s perfect,” I said. “This home is perfect. I’m glad you made the move. Steve would have loved it.”
The room was only big enough for a queen bed and a dresser, but that was all I needed.
Abby’s chest rose and fell as she breathed slowly. First Christmas without Steve was going to be hard for everyone but especially her and Tyler. He had passed away sooner than the doctors had expected.
Cancer, like everything in life, was a mystery. Even the experts couldn’t predict the outcome. Illness not only ate away the victim’s body, but it damaged the loved ones’ souls.
Sometimes things happened when you least expected them to, both the good and the bad. But regardless, we had our health and each other. I was grateful. Though grief plagued our hearts, we found a way to move forward.
“Thank you. I needed to hear that.” She blinked her teary eyes before meeting my gaze. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I put a gentle hand on her arm, but I wanted to do more than that. I wanted to take away her pain. “You’re allowed to be sad. I’m here.”
She nodded with her lips pressed tight and leaned her back against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest.
Even the strongest people need to be vulnerable.
Tyler stepped into the doorway and glanced between Abby and me with a serious expression. Then he dashed the short distance to his mother and linked his arms around his mom’s waist.
“It’s okay, Mommy.”
His gentle voice nearly broke me. Such a brave boy. At such a tender age, no child should experience the loss of a parent. I wanted to put him in a bubble and keep him safe from the world.
Seeing him comforting his mother told me Abby was raising him well. Whatever she said or did to help him through his grief showed he was capable of empathy, no matter how cruelly life treated him.
I needed to change the subject before the three of us ended up in a crying session. Abby and I could talk later and sob in each other’s arms if needed, but not in front of Tyler. Though we spoke often on the phone, Abby typically wasn’t as emotional as she was being now.
I understood. Holidays were hard when a loved one wasn’t around. It hadn’t been that long since Steve had passed away. Christmas was supposed to be the happiest time of the year. I was going to make sure it was for them both.
“So, Ty, do you have a girlfriend?” This question should break up the sadness.
“Auntie Kate.” Tyler turned away from his mother and tilted his head, as his cheeks turned color.
Abby made a funny noise that sounded between laughter and choking and wiped the corner of her eyes with her knuckle.
“Oh. My. Goodness, you do?” I bent lower to be face-to-face with him. I loved seeing him flustered. He looked so adorable.
“No. She’s just a friend.” He curled his shoulders inward, shifting his stance from side to side, avoiding my eyes. “Mom says it’s okay to have a friend that’s a girl.” He peered up at Abby to confirm.
“She is absolutely right. Your mother is smart, but not as smart as me.” I winked. “You should always listen to her.”
“Yeah, Mom says that all the time.”
“Well ...” Abby clapped her hands to get our attention. “Would you like something to drink? I was in the middle of making dinner. Let’s go to the kitchen. We can talk there. You can unpack later, right?”
“Yes, I would love some tea.” I rose from the bed. “And I can unpack my beautiful ballgown later.”
My sister rolled her eyes and the corner of her mouth tugged a little, then she slipped out. Her footsteps headed toward the kitchen.
“But let me change first. I’ll be right out,” I called.
“Ballgown? Like Cinderella?” Tyler shook his head and strolled out of the room.
I took out a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from my duffle bag, changed, and tied my hair back.
While Tyler played with his building blocks on the living room rug, I leaned against the light wooden cabinet by the stove while Abby opened a cabinet. The appliances were white and minimal—unlike the state-of-the-art, stainless steel stove and refrigerator she’d had in New York—but they fit the simple look.
“Here. Good for your soul.” She handed me a steaming, fragrant mug and got back to stir-frying slices of chicken breast.
“Mmmm.” I sighed deeply, savoring the warmth and the flavor. “You make the best tea.”
Abby threw cabbage and broccoli into the pan, sizzling with oil and garlic. “I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up at the airport.”
“Would you stop apologizing? Just because you’re older than me doesn’t mean you have to take care of me. Besides, I’m here to take care of you and Tyler, not be an added responsibility.”
“Thank you.” She dashed some salt, chili powder, and Hoisin sauce into the vegetables and mixed up the ingredients. “I had to meet a client at the gallery and I couldn’t change the time.” She lowered her voice so Tyler couldn’t hear. “I really needed this sale.”