Page 79 of Against All Odds

Her eyes find mine and I see the tears welling. “I don’t know where it is.”

“We’ll find it.”

She shakes her head. “I ... I think ... I had it.”

“His brown one?” I ask.

“Yes, that one.”

“Okay, we’ll find it,” I assure her again.

Sometimes she likes to go through the chest, and then she forgets what she was doing or why the clothes are out. It’s very stressful for her when they aren’t returned here. If by any chance one of her friends were here when she last went through them, they may not have known how to put them back.

I haven’t checked in for at least a week, which is my fault.

I know better than to not go through the rooms every other day to ensure everything is the same.

As I empty the chest, she sits on the bed, her hands clutched in her lap, and she rocks. This is going to send her spiraling if I can’t find it soon.

“Check the dresser!” she says quickly.

I go there first. I check the drawers, but there is only her clothing. “Not here, Mom.”

“Oh, Everett, please. I need his things, I can’t forget him. Please.”

I walk over, resting my hands on her shoulders. “You will never forget him.”

“I forget things,” she says, and her voice cracks.

“Sometimes you do, but never the important people. Do you always know me?”

She nods. “And do you know your friends and nurses?”

“Yes.”

“And when you look at that photo”—I point to the one on her side table, showing the three of us at my last baseball game—“do you know who those people are?”

“Of course,” she breathes.

“Okay, then. Don’t worry about forgetting Dad. I don’t think you ever could.”

He lives inside her.

“Everett?” My mother’s eyes soften.

“What?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For being like this. You should be married and have kids. You shouldn’t be living like this. I’m a burden.”

I crouch down, taking her hands in mine. “You are never a burden. You took care of me from the day you found me. You and Dad loved me no matter what and worked to always make sure I had whatever I needed. I’m exactly where I need to be, Mom. I love you.”

Her lip trembles, and she brushes my hair back like she did when I was a little boy. “I love you with my whole heart.”

“Good. Then let’s find Dad’s jacket, put the room back together, and then we can have breakfast.”

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