After the kids grab a chicken wrap, I put one on my plate. I typically enjoy Nancy’s wraps, but today they taste like sawdust. Even so, I force down several bites.
“So, what’s on the agenda for the day?” Nancy asks after several silent moments.
I pick up the glass of water in front of me to wash down the food in my mouth. “I was going to take the kids out for a bit. Maybe to Ponduke Lake. Let them feed the ducks. We’ll stop by the hospital on our way back. Lindsay said she’ll stay with Molly tonight, so the kids and I can go home.”
Nancy smiles, and just like everyone’s smile lately, it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. Douglas and I were going to go visit this evening. I think I overheard Jenna say she was going to spend tomorrow night at the hospital.”
“Not tomorrow,” I tell her. “Wednesday night. I’ll be there tomorrow night. We plan to alternate nights.”
Nancy nods, setting her wrap down on her plate and wiping her hands. “Count me and Douglas in some nights.”
“I’ll let them know.”
Nancy may have been right about me not spending so much time away from the kids, but I’m not giving up all of my nights with Molly. It’s already tough enough giving up any. I have to be there some nights.
Everyone turns quiet again. I shift in my seat, feeling restless and uneasy. It’s not Nancy or Douglas, they’re like a second family to me. It’s that I’m away from the hospital.
I bring my phone to life on the table, checking to make sure I haven’t missed any calls or have any voicemails, even though the volume is up and I’ve had my phone with me the entire time I’ve been gone. Plus, Lindsay knows to call me if something should happen.
Despite the fact that I have no missed calls, texts, or voicemails, I still can’t get the uneasy feeling to go away. I should be at the hospital. Everything in me says I should.
My knees bounce underneath the table, and I’m two seconds away from jumping up from my chair, when my gaze slides to Gray and Gemma. Both are looking down at their plates, their faces forlorn, and their food barely touched.
I can’t leave them. My heart aches at not being with Molly, but I can’t leave our kids like this.
I’ll be back soon, Molly, I silently whisper.
An hour later, I pull to a stop in a parking space in the small parking lot at Ponduke Lake. I let out a breath of relief when I see only one other car in the lot. It’s late afternoon, so I expected the park to be fairly busy. When I first suggested Ponduke Lake earlier, I wasn’t thinking about being forced to be around other people, which I’d prefer not to do, so I’m glad that’s not the case.
I grab the loaf of bread I brought with us, and we all three get out of the car at the same time. There are benches close to the water’s edge, and that’s where we go. Several ducks linger close by, with a bunch more hanging out in the water. Before we leave, we’ll be surrounded by ducks.
“You want the first piece?” I ask Gemma, holding out a piece of bread for her.
“Yes, please.”
She breaks the bread apart in several chunks before tossing them toward the waiting ducks. When they begin quacking and waddling over, Gemma giggles. Hearing that sound again lessens the constant pain in my stomach a fraction.
I pass a piece over to Gray, and he breaks his apart too, throwing it toward the new group of ducks making their way up the bank. He doesn’t giggle like Gemma does, but I do notice the tiny twitch in his lips. We used to come to Ponduke Lake often, but it’s been a while. We’d bring a picnic basket and sit underneath one of the big weeping willow trees. After we ate, I’d lean against the tree with Molly between my legs as we’d watch the kids feed the ducks. We always brought two loaves of bread, one for Gemma and one for Gray.
This is just another place I’m going to have to get used to visiting without Molly. There are so many places that carry memories of her.
“Aww… look!” Gemma calls loudly, pointing out to the lake. “There’s a momma and her baby ducks!” She grins, and this one does reach her eyes. “Do you think they’ll come up here so we can feed them?”
“I don’t know,” I answer, passing her another piece of bread. “We’ll have to wait and see.”
The growing pile of ducks squawk as she breaks the piece of bread apart. Instead of throwing it at them, she tosses it closer to the water’s edge, trying to draw the momma duck and her babies to shore. It seems to work because they slowly swim closer.
After giving Gray another piece of bread, I pull one out for myself. I break pieces off one by one and toss them toward the ducks closest to me. One duck catches my attention. It’s a big one, and from the slightly curled tail feather, I know it’s a drake. He doesn’t frantically go after the chunks of bread like the others. Instead, he stands near and lets the female ducks grab the bread. When another drake approaches, he chases him off. This must be his harem of ladies.
A rusty chuckle leaves my lips, and something warm slithers through my chest. If Molly were here, she’d say the drake was being romantic, letting his women eat before he does and making sure no other males poached on their meal.
I frown, lifting my hand to rub at the sudden stab of pain in my sternum.
Gray comes over to sit beside me, momentarily distracting me from the pain. “I’m scared, Dad,” he says so quietly I barely hear him.
I wrap my arm around his shoulder and tug him to my side. “I am too.”
“I don’t want Mom to die.”
I work my molars for a moment before I respond. “I don’t either.”
Gemma comes back for more bread, and I hand her several slices. Gray waits for her to walk away before he speaks again.
“How are we supposed to live without our Mom?” He looks up at me, his eyes pleading with me to give him an answer he’ll understand.
“I don’t know, Gray.” I decide on the truth. “The only thing we can do is take it day by day. And lean on each other when the pain becomes too much. When you feel like crying, don’t try to hide it. When you need a hug, you come to me or Gamma, or Poppa, or whoever is closest to you. When you need to talk, you find me. Don’t bottle your emotions. You’re going to need to let them out because it’ll make it a little bit easier to get through this.” I take my eyes off him and find Gemma several feet away, surrounded by ducks. In this moment, she looks happy, like her world isn’t falling apart. “We need to be there for Gemma too. We understand what’s going on a little bit more than she does. She’s going to need us to be as strong as we can be.”
He looks at Gemma and nods before setting his gaze back on me. He lowers his voice even more and his eyes begin to shine with impending tears.
“It feels like she’s already gone.”
My arm around his shoulders flex. “I know it does.” I’m forced to clear my throat when my voice cracks. “But she’s not. She’s still with us, and we’ll cherish every minute of the time we have left with her.”
Gray doesn’t say anything else after that. Just grabs another few pieces of bread, gets up from the bench, and walks over to stand beside his sister. The both of them toss food to the ducks while I sit back and watch. Seeing the two of them standing side by side, big brother and little sister, hearts shattering inside their chests, reminds me again why I’m exactly where I need to be at the moment.