Page 44 of Whisk Me Away

I couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness, of not knowing what to do to ease her pain. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and tell her everything would be okay, but I knew it wasn’t that simple. Grief didn't just disappear with comforting words. It took time, patience, and understanding.

But how do I show her that I was here for her without suffocating her with my presence? How do I let her know she could lean on me without overwhelming her with my emotions?

The light tap on my window jolted me out of my spiraling thoughts. I turned to see Brock standing at my window. Lifting my head in response, I gathered my keys and phone before pushing the door open.

"You good?" Brock asked as soon as I exited the SUV.

My response was a grunt. I didn’t feel like talking about this right now, and the irony of that was not lost on me.

We walked the rest of the way to Gram's door in silence. I knew Brock was just trying to help, but I didn’t have any answers, so I'd rather not talk about it. Thankfully, he didn’t push me. That was the thing about brothers: They could see when something was bothering you but were smart enough not to stick their nose in your business uninvited.

Brock turned the doorknob, pushing the front door open. "We're here!" He called as if the fact that we'd arrived was big news.

I follow Brock through the living room to the kitchen, where Mom and Gram hovered around the stove, and Dad set the table.

"Is Brooks going to be here?" Brock asked, stealing a carrot from the vegetable platter on the kitchen island.

Gram swatted his hand before he could steal another one.

"Gram!" Brock whined. "I'm starving."

Mom chuckled, and Dad rolled his eyes as Gram sent Brock a scathing look.

"Oh, hush you. Enough of your whining. We haven't said grace yet,” Gram chided.

"To answer your previous question, no, Brooks won't be here tonight. He is studying for his midterms,” Mom's tone was wistful.

Mom always hated it when her boys were far from home. She cherished the times we spent together, and the thought of us being scattered across the state filled her with unease. So when Brooks decided to pursue his dream of becoming a veterinarian, she was excited but also eager for him to finish his program and move back home.

Brooks had worked tirelessly to earn his degree, pouring countless hours into his studies and practical experience. Now, as he neared the end of his journey, he had already lined up a position at the vet's office in town. It was a dream come true for him, a chance to work in the community he grew up in and give back to the place that had shaped him.

I could see the excitement in Mom's eyes whenever she talked about Brooks' future. She had always been proud of him, but this was something special. He would be training under Dr. Daniels, a respected veterinarian in town, and would eventually take over the practice when he retired.

"He'll be done soon, Sandra,” Dad must have caught the hint of sorrow in her voice as well. He moved from the dining room table and placed a kiss on the side of her head before running a hand through her hair.

The chime of the oven timer sent Gram rushing over to pull out the rolls. "Time to eat!" she called over her shoulder.

We all grabbed a dish and began placing them at the center of the dining room table. Once all the food was in place, we sat in our usual seats and waited for Dad to say grace.

"Heavenly Father, we thank you for this day. Thank you for the way you continually provide. We lift up the Thompson family to you, Lord. You know the grief they are feeling, but we are clinging to the promise that you are close to the brokenhearted. We pray many blessings over each of them tonight. Help us to be there for them in this time of need. Bless this food and our time together. In Jesus' name, we pray, amen."

Everyone echoed Dad's amen before filling our plates. For a while, we all ate in silence. The only sound was our silverware clanking against our plates.

"How is Karis holding up?" Mom asked hesitantly.

I sucked in a sharp breath at the sound of her name. I contemplated how I wanted to answer my mom. I couldn’t blow her off like I did with Brock earlier, but I still didn’t have any answers, which frustrated me.

"I'm not really sure, Mom," I said with a shrug, avoiding eye contact with anyone at the table. I didn't want my family to see the turmoil brewing inside me, the frustration of not being able to reach Karis despite my efforts. But I couldn’t bring myself to lie to Mom either, not when she was asking with such genuine concern.

"She's... dealing with things in her own way," I add vaguely, hoping it was enough to satisfy Mom's curiosity.

Mom nodded slowly. "Maybe we could bring her some food or offer to help out at the bakery?" I could see the concern etched into Mom's features, and I knew she meant well.

"I've tried reaching out, but she's been keeping to herself lately. I don't want to push her too hard,” I said, hoping we could be done talking about this.

"I'm sure she knows anyone in this town would be willing to jump in and help if she ever needed it,” Dad jumped in.

"I heard she hired someone to help her at the bakery,” Gram added.