plate of cookies and a glass of cold milk.
“I ought to bake my own,” Rita Mae confided. “But no one makes white chocolate macadamia cookies as good as Marisol’s.”
Lacey smiled as she reached for another cookie. It had been years since she’d had milk and cookies. The sisters clearly thought she was still a child, but she didn’t mind one bit. It felt good to have someone mother her.
Her heart twisted. It had been a long time since anyone had.
“If you want, you can stay for dinner,” Rita Mae said as she took away the empty plate. “We always have more than enough food, and we’d be happy to have you.”
Lacey thought that sounded great. She knew this was where Mallory worked, but her ex-best friend was nowhere to be seen, so it wasn’t even awkward. She opened her mouth to respond with a yes when she recalled that she still had the groceries.
“Sounds wonderful, but I can’t,” she said. “I was running errands for Aunt Payton, and I need to get back. I appreciate the thought though.”
“That’s fine,” Rita Mae said. “Another time.”
She beamed at the older woman, basking in the warmth of her smile. “I’d love that.”
“Here you go,” Anna Mae said as she walked over to hand Lacey a piece of paper with a list of names and numbers. “That should be everything you need to get started on planning the bench for your brother.”
Lacey slid the paper into her purse, feeling energized in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. “Thank you so much,” she said and meant it. Sometimes it seemed help came from the most unexpected places.
Her heart lighter, she said good-bye to the Pragers and headed home, groceries in tow.
The house was quiet when she arrived, her aunt and grandmother already gone, and she was pretty sure that their visit hadn’t gone as they’d intended it. Still, Lacey thought with a sudden wave of optimism, perhaps she would be the one to get her mother’s attention locked onto something productive.
The memorial bench had swiftly gone from being a random idea to a concrete one in Lacey’s mind. It not only gave her something to do, it meant that her mother could help as well. And that could only be a good thing. In fact, the bench might just be a way to bring her whole family together and honor Jacob’s memory all at once.
She was so convinced that it was the remedy they all needed that she went straight up to her parents’ room to tell her mother. This was just the sort of work that her mom excelled at. Surely this was something that would pull her mom from her lethargy.
She went in without knocking. She knew from experience she’d get no answer.
“Mom,” she said, rushing over to where her mother sat huddled on the bed. “Today when I was in town, I had a wonderful idea. Something we can do for Jacob.” The words spilled out in a rush. “I’m going to organize a drive to finance a memorial bench under the Storm Oak. For Jacob. Won’t that be perfect?”
No response. Her mom didn’t even look up from the photo she was staring at.
“Mom? Will you help me?”
“Not right now, Lacey,” her mother said, not even bothering to look up. Lacey’s heart plummeted. But then maybe she just needed to enlist more help.
Her sister would know what to do.
It took a few hours, several texts, and three phone calls to get hold of her, but Sara Jane finally answered, heard her out, and responded enthusiastically to the idea of the memorial bench.
“So you’ll help me?” Lacey asked her sister.
“Of course I will. We can start by raising money at the shops on the square.”
“That’s a great idea, but I also want to Mom to help, too,” Lacey interrupted. “This is just the sort of thing she’s best at. I’m hoping it’ll help pull her out of her depression.”
“It’s a good thought.” Sara Jane hesitated. “Have you spoken to her about it yet?”
“I tried,” Lacey replied, resignation filling her voice. “But she wouldn’t listen.