Page 44 of This Broken Heart
“The whole Christmas tree thing. That was my idea.”
I glance at the tree in question, glowing merrily by the window. My kids are present on every branch in their handprints and their artwork. It’s not a perfect tree, but it was made with love, and that makes it picture perfect in my book.
I nudge her. “That was Trace’s idea. And you were gracious enough to indulge him.”
“But it was too cold.”
I plant my hand on her knee and give it a little shake. “It’s not your fault. I heard Charlie telling mom she was just getting over a cold and she had Maven all day yesterday.”
“You’re sure?”
I shrug. “I can’t be sure, but even if it was the cold weather, that’s just life, you know?” I stop short, taken aback.
“What?”
“I just never thought I’d hear myself say something like that.” I pause, hesitating over how much I should tell her. “Has anyone told you about Ana?”
Her gaze meets mine, and she shakes her head.
Everyone around here knows what happened. I haven’t had to explain it to anyone, but by the same token, no one talks about it. The topic is taboo. But so is Ana’s name.
After two years of being trapped in my head, forming that story into words feels like rolling a boulder uphill.
“Remember a few years back when we got that big blizzard on Halloween?”
She nods. “Yeah. They had to cancel Halloween in Lincoln because the ice took power lines down.”
“It was a freak storm.”
“Yeah.”
“Ana loved the snow.” I clear my throat, wishing I had some whiskey to ease the pain. “We had some early calves that year and I was out in the barn all night and she came out with wet hair to keep me company.” I clear my throat again. “She was like that. Always trying to tough shit out. I don’t know for sure if that was when she got sick, but in my heart… anyway, she caught this cold that wouldn’t go away and she never told any of us how bad it was getting. By the time she finally let me take her to the hospital, she had septic pneumonia.”
Glancing back at Erin, I’m surprised to see tears tracking down her cheeks. I reach out and catch them on the back of my hand. I can feel my eyes burning, but I already cried in front of this woman once today. That’s my quota. I wipe away the fresh torrent of tears on her cheeks. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m so sorry, Josh.”
My heart lurches in my chest. “Me too.”
“Is that why you were so worried about Maven?”
I heave a deep breath. “Yeah.” I glance over my shoulder in the direction of Maven’s room. “Think we can hear her okay from here?”
“It’s probably the best place in the house. I can go get the baby monitor, though.”
She gets the monitor and I get some extra quilts. Turning the TV all the way down, I put on the most festive movie I can think of and plop down on the couch.
Erin returns with the baby monitor. “Die Hard?”
“Is that okay?”
“Best Christmas movie ever.” Erin says, sitting down.
I glance over, a surprised grin on my face. “I’ve been trying to convince my sisters of that fact for the last two decades.”
“I’m team Die Hard.” Erin says, tugging a quilt over her lap.
She’s full of little surprises like that. If I could, I’d pick them all up and store them in my pocket.