Page 32 of There I Find Hope

“That’s what I’m hoping for. To help people make good memories on their vacation. Of course, I’d like to make money while I’m doing it, but that’s the goal anyway.”

He nodded, looking around the kitchen, and then he looked back at her, searching her face as though checking for any signs that she was in distress. “Are you handling this okay?”

She realized she was. She nodded. “Thank you for coming. I don’t know if that made the difference, or if I’m just finally ready.”

He nodded, holding tight to her hand and allowing her to lead him as she walked through the kitchen, touching one of her copper pots, running her hand along her butcher block counter, feeling the cold smoothness of the granite countertop she had installed along the side.

She walked to the counter where the wall opened as a window to the small storefront. She could be in the kitchen and look out.

She’d missed this. And she had a deep longing to get back to it.

But she felt like she needed to conquer her apartment first.

“Do you mind going upstairs with me?” she asked, and there was a tremble in her voice. She didn’t really want to. But each time she did it, it would get easier.

“I don’t mind at all. Lead the way.”

“All right.”

As they stepped out of the kitchen, she picked up Blake’s shoes with her free hand.

Going down the hall, she set them in front of the door where they belonged.

She supposed that would be one of the last motherly things she ever did. At least that she ever did for Blake. Putting his shoes away for him.

Such a simple thing. But she refused to feel guilty for punishing him for not listening. It was important that he learned. She’d had no idea that he was going to die the next day. She had to be the best mother she could be, and that included making sure her child learned to listen.

Of course, if she were able to see the future, she would have done things differently, but since she wasn’t, she couldn’t. And that was the way it was supposed to be. That was the way God ordained it; she didn’t get a say. She had to accept it. And she did. Her choice was whether or not she would accept it. And she chose to do so. God was right.

Holding tight to Noah’s hand, she put first one foot and then another on the steps, until she reached the top, opening up the door and stepping in.

Immediately a sense of home surrounded her, and she put a hand on her stomach.

“Are you okay?” Noah asked from behind her. He took one step closer and stood with her back touching his chest.

“Yeah. Just give me a minute,” she said, her voice weak.

He slid his hand over her arm, until his hand covered hers, and he pulled her snug against him. Not so tight she couldn’t breathe. Not so tight she felt trapped. Just tight enough to know that she wasn’t alone, and that he was there for her. It was the perfect amount of pressure, and she leaned into him, grateful for his presence and for his concern and compassion. For his care, for his caring.

The kitchen was exactly the way she had left it; she’d washed the dishes before they’d gone for their walk that day, but she hadn’t dried them or put them away, and they were still in the draining board. Just like she’d left them.

Their coats hung on the rack by the door, and Blake’s favorite cereal sat on the counter.

The box was too big to fit in the cupboard, and that was the only place she could keep it. Other than the top of the refrigerator.

Her eyes fell on it, and she saw the latest paper that he brought home from school held up on the refrigerator with magnets. Their Christmas card with a picture of the two of them was on it as well.

She supposed the bedroom would be the hardest part, but she took another step into the kitchen, and Noah let her go. Her back felt cold as she stepped away from him, but she held on tightly to his hand, and he followed her.

“I can do this. It hurts, and I’m a little scared, and I feel a lot of pain, but I can do it.” She was talking to herself just as much as she was talking to him.

“Of course you can do it. You have to. You’re facing it, and you’re moving forward. Not forgetting, just knowing that this is the life you have.”

“Right. This is the life I have, and it’s a good one.”

It was the truth, and it was encouraging to remember that. It might not be exactly what she wanted, but it was a good life. And she had so much to be thankful for.

And she had all of the memories. They were good memories. And she wouldn’t want to not have them.