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“My day was alright. Kind of boring, actually. Work was slow, and there aren’t any races tonight, so I just ran a few errands before coming home and having dinner with Ma.”
“That actually sounds nice. The dinner, I mean. I can’t remember the last time my family all sat together at a dinner table without an agenda,” I say, wondering what she must think of my family.
“Really?”
“Yeah, I don’t think we have since Tommy died,” I say honestly.
She’s silent for a moment, but I understand her well enough to know that she’s allowing the moment to exist before questioning me. Like she’s respecting the mention of my brother or something.
“You must miss it,” she finally says.
I release a long breath, scrubbing my hand over my face before answering.
“Some of it, yeah. I miss the togetherness of it all. I miss my mom, and… my brother.”
It hurts to admit sometimes. That he isn’t here anymore. That I’ll never be able to look across that family table and see him, wordlessly sharing one of our inside jokes. I’ll never be able to tell him about this wonderful, smart, gorgeous, and loving woman that I’ve met. I’ll never be able to show him that I made it. I made something of myself. Whether I’m happy about how or not, I did it.
“I understand,” she says, and her voice is so small, I almost regret bringing up the subject.
“I know you do,” I say, and I’m thankful for that fact. She won’t pander to me, apologizing for something she can’t even start to fathom. She understands loss in her own way.
We share the moment in silence. Just a brief pause to collect ourselves before she speaks up.
“So, I got something for the car today,” her cheerful voice brings a sleepy smile to my face.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I ask.
“Well, it isn’t exactly for the car, but for my keys. Still,” she says, and I know she’s rolling her eyes in that playful way she does. “I got a keychain.”
“Anything special about this keychain?” I ask, entertaining her.
“Hmm… I guess that would depend on who you ask.” Her coy tone has me stopping mid-thought.
“Well,” I drag the word out in question, “what if I ask you?”
“Well, in that case, I would say it’s more special to you than it is to me.”
“Me?” I’m at a complete loss on what she could be getting at.
“Okay, maybe not special, so much as meaningful,” she clarifies.
“I don’t have a clue, babe. You’re going to have to help me out here,” I chuckle.
“Hold on,” she says, and I hear her moving around, keys jangling, and I wonder what she’s up to.
When my phone pings with an incoming text, I pull it away from my ear and see that it’s from Keaton, and it’s a picture.
“There, check your texts.”
I click on the notification and pull up the image to see a shiny silver crown with tiny little jewels embedded in it.
The corners of my mouth stretch into a grin so big I know it reaches my eyes. The fact that she got this — and told me about it — means a lot. Almost like she’s accepting the fact that she’s my princess. It’s just harder for her to admit things than it is for me. I understand that. But this… this made my night.
“It’s definitely special,” I say, my voice warm and filled with all the things I know she isn’t ready to hear just yet.
“I knew you’d think so,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice.
I yawn loudly, unable to fight it off, and Keaton giggles.
