“He’s at school.”
Her face falls as she looks down at the ground. Her little sneaker-clad foot starts swinging back and forth. “Mama says we don’t have to go to school until after.” Her voice trails off.
I fight back the tears as my heart breaks for her and her sister. They only got five years with their dad and will only remember one if they’re lucky. I bend down in front of her and wipe a stray tear off her cheek. “Noah can come over after school before he goes to practice, okay?”
She nods and I bring her into my arms, carrying her into her once-happy home.
This is my first time in the Powell home since the night we got the call. I came over here to stay with the girls while Katelyn was in the hospital waiting for a sign that Mason was going to make it. I paced the floor, the same floor they paced when the girls had colds or the flu and kept them up at night.
The same floor that Mason dumped a plate full of chicken when he tripped over the bag of footballs he forgot to put away after practice. Katelyn and I laughed so hard. When he stood up Mason had chicken grease all over his face. One look from him and Katelyn knew he was coming after her.
I set Peyton down and kiss her on the forehead. I don’t even know how to comfort her and her sister, let alone her mom.
“Where’s your sister?” I ask.
Peyton shrugs. “With mama, I guess.”
“Aunt Joey who is going to watch football with me now?” her voice breaks as she asks the simplest question of all.
Usually I have an answer for everything, but when I look into her eyes I don’t know what to say to her because there isn’t an answer. It could be me one week or Mr. Powell, but it will never be Mason. He was her football buddy and she his.
“I’m sure Nick would love to and even Noah. Maybe your Grandpa can come over on Sundays.”
“It’s not the same,” she whispers before leaving me in the middle of the room surrounded by nothing but memories, once in a lifetime moments captured by a real life lens and frozen in the past. And sometimes that's not enough. Any memories made now won't have Mason.
“Hey.” I turn to find Katelyn behind me. Her hair is pulled back in a sloppy bun and she’s wearing one of Mason’s shirts. I can’t hold back the tears and choke on a sob as I rush to hold her. She cries into my chest, her sobs shattering my reserve.
“I’m so sorry,” I say softly to her. Her hands are clutching at my shirt as she fights to control herself. She was there for me when my world fell apart and I’m going to be there for her, even if it kills me.
When she pulls back I wipe her tears just like I did for Peyton. “You seemed okay yesterday,” I say trying to remind her that she is having a few good moments.
“Yesterday I didn’t have to make any decisions except what color flowers I wanted. Today I have to pick a casket and bring…” she takes a deep breath, covering her face with her hands. Her diamond engagement ring is sparkling as it catches the sunlight. “I have to pick out his last outfit and I don’t know what he’d want to wear.”
This is something I can’t even imagine. I wouldn’t know what to do. When things changed for me I wanted to die, but Katelyn and Mason held me together. They were my glue. The love of my life didn’t die, he just decided I was no longer what he needed in life and went away. I didn’t have to bury him or clean out his office. He took my heart with him when he shut the door.
“I think maybe you should ask the girls what they want him to wear. Let them help you because you are going to need them to get through all of this. I know Peyton is worried about who will watch football with her on Sunday.”
“I know,” she sighs heavily. “Elle wants to know who is going to tuck her in at night because no one does it like daddy.”
I pull her back into my arms and hold my friend. There are no words that I can say that will solve this dilemma for her, only time will. But time hurts.
Katelyn takes my advice and asks the twins to help pick out their dads final outfit. When they come out, the three of them are holding a mismatch of clothes. Katelyn shows me a pair of dark slacks. Peyton holds up his coaching shirt and Elle shows me the shoes he’ll be buried in, one cleat and one tennis shoe. I crack a smile which causes them all to laugh.
It’s perfect and so very Mason.