With a heavy heart, she continued sorting, forming two piles as she went—pay now and put off until later. She reached the bottom and opened the final bill. The mortgage. If a miracle didn’t occur in the next month, foreclosure proceedings would begin.
Where would she and Josh be then? She pinched her temples, warding off the headache.
Drawing in a long breath, she debated whether to laugh or cry. More than enough tears had traced her cheeks in the past two years, so she opted to laugh. What else could she do? For Josh’s sake, she had to hold it together. He didn’t need to walk in and see her breaking down. Losing his father a few months before he turned two was a heavy enough burden for him to carry without her adding to the load.
Lyndsey caught sight of the digital clock on the stove. Go figure, that component worked just fine, the one she could do without. The potluck began in ten minutes, and now she’d be late, on top of not having anything to bring.
She marched across the kitchen and peeked into the living room. Josh sat in a circle of brightly colored building blocks. In front of him, a towering construction of something—a spaceship, if she had her guess—teetered on a delicate balance. Lifting an arm, Josh placed a blue block on the top, causing the creation to tip over.
Blocks scattered everywhere.
Josh’s bottom lip protruded, turning down at the edges.
Bracing herself, Lyndsey hurried to him. Maybe she could ward off the imminent—
A loud wail pierced her ears.
—Tantrum. Her chest deflated as she finished the interrupted thought with a sigh and knelt beside Josh.
“My rocket ship’s broken,” Josh stuttered between cries.
“It can be fixed.” Supermom powers kicked in, and she reassembled the blocks in seconds. “See, all good again.”
The fit ended as quickly as it had begun. Josh broke out into a wide grin, gripping the rocket ship with two hands—one at the bottom and one at the top. He lifted it and ran around the room, zooming the rocket ship through the air.
Lyndsey stood to her feet, a smile fighting to turn up the corners of her mouth. What difference would a few more minutes make when they were already going to be late? Moments like these kept her going while everything else crashed around her.
Josh’s smile. His fits of giggles. The imagination he’d inherited from his father. Mark was dead, but he lived on through his carrot-topped son. Nothing could ever fill the hole left by Mark’s premature passing, but Josh kept her heart from hollowing.
“Time to leave,” she told him after a few minutes more of play.
“Where are we going?” Stopping mid-zoom, Josh still held the blocks in the air.
“Remember I told you about the potluck at church tonight?”
He shook his head. “What’s a potluck?”
“Everyone brings something to eat and shares with everyone else.”
“Will there be cookies?” A hopeful smile appeared.
Lyndsey chuckled. “I imagine Mrs. Di will bring hers.”
“Yippee.” Cookies trumped toys, at least for today, and Josh discarded the blocks during his sprint to her. “I’m ready.”
Eyebrows raised, she looked at his white socks. “Put away your toys and then put your shoes on. Mommy will tie them for you.”
While Josh ran to his room, ignoring the toys, Lyndsey went to her bathroom to perform a quick application of makeup. She dabbed concealer on the dark circles of worry under her lackluster green eyes. Was that really her reflection? Where was her sparkle that Mark had loved so much? Would he be horrified to see his youthful bride was now a haggard mom just barely holding on? The stress from the last several years had aged her so that she looked a decade older than her thirty years.
But even the aged woman who stared back at her appeared too young to be a widow.
Some days she thought the first year after Mark’s death was easier to handle than what she felt now. That first year and into the second, shock and grief had left her numb. For Josh’s sake, she continued on, albeit in automatic motions, but in recent months, she was coming out of that coma and having to face the reality of life without her husband.
Part of coming back to life was feeling again, and the truth was—feelings hurt. More than anyone could imagine unless they’d been there. It was sharp pains that sliced through her at random times, and it was a constant ache that constricted her lungs until she couldn’t breathe.
“Found my shoes, Mommy.” Josh stood at the bathroom door, his dirty shoelaces a tangled mess. “I tried tying them myself.”
“I see that.” She blinked away the sullen thoughts, replacing them with a smile. Kneeling down, she undid the knots and tied Josh’s laces in a proper fashion. Before she stood, she kissed his cheek.
Twenty minutes later, she pulled into the church parking lot, dismayed to see people milling about. She’d hoped to make a quiet entry, not drawing attention to her empty hands, something she didn’t think would be a problem since they were late.
“Didn’t you say everyone’s s’posed to bring something?” Josh asked as she unbuckled his seatbelt.
“Yes.” She cringed, imagining where the questioning would lead.
“Then what did we bring?” He hopped from his seat then onto the ground.
“Nothing this time, sweetheart.” She bit her bottom lip, praying he wouldn’t launch into twenty questions.
His hand reached for hers, standard parking lot protocol. “Why not?”
“I just didn’t.”
“But you said we’re s’posed to, and you told me to always do things we’re s’posed to do.” Stopping his small stride, he looked at her for an answer.
She couldn’t negate four-year-old logic. “The oven broke, so I couldn’t cook anything and didn’t have time to make anything else. I’ll make two things next time.”
“Okay.” Satisfied, Josh smiled then suddenly jerked away, about to break into a run. “I see Damien.”
Lyndsey lurched out an arm to grab him, but he was too fast. “Joshua Devin Allen, get back here.”
“Whoa there.” Shep Patterson appeared from behind a vehicle and put his hands on Josh’s shoulders to stop the sprint.
Relief flooded through her that Shep had stopped Josh. Even in the church parking lot, people tended to drive too fast or back up without looking. She increased her pace, reaching her son in a matter of seconds.
“Thank you,” she told Shep.
Before she addressed Josh, she took two deep breaths. “You know better than to run off like that. Do you know what could have happened?”
Josh tucked his chin to his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“There will be no cookies for you tonight.”
“But I want one.” His eyes scrunched and arms crossed.
“Maybe you’ll remember that next time you run from me in the parking lot.”
“I want a cookie.” To Lyndsey’s embarrassment, Josh raised his foot and slammed it down in an ambitious stomp.
Right onto Shep’s boot.
Heat flood her face. “I’m so sorry.” She brought Josh in front of her, tightly gripping his shoulders.
“Don’t worry about it.” He shrugged and flipped a hand. “My nephew’s around Josh’s age. I understand.”