Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Lily
The next morning, Lily lay motionless in her bed, the thin sunlight leaking through the cracked edge of the bedroom curtains.
Her back ached from sleeping in the same curled position she always fell into: one arm wrapped tightly around the extra pillow, the other stretched out across the cold mattress where David used to lie.
It had been more than a year, but every morning still began with the cruel reminder that he was gone.
It was almost as if she woke up every morning with that thin hope that it had all been a bad nightmare and that she’d reach across the bed and feel him. Every morning, she’d just keep reaching until the pain wrapped around her heart and continued to hold her hostage.
She blinked slowly, her eyes gritty. The quiet of the house no longer soothed her.
It pressed in on her instead, filled with echoes of what used to be.
David’s laughter over morning coffee, the clink of mugs, and the radio playing old jazz music while he danced her around the kitchen.
Now, there was just the hum of the refrigerator and the relentless ticking of the clock.
Lily hadn’t cleaned in over a week…maybe longer.
She’d lost track. She had every intention of waking up every morning and making a change, of pushing down all the emotions and taking control of her life, but she never did.
She’d always wake up every morning with the grief swallowing her whole, and she didn’t quite know how to get out of that loop.
In the meantime, she got out of bed only when she had to, and even that sometimes felt like a betrayal, like living meant moving on.
And she wasn’t sure that she wanted to do either.
With a heavy sigh, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. The hardwood was cold beneath her bare feet. She shuffled through the hall toward the kitchen, wincing at the mess as if seeing it for the first time.
Fast food wrappers littered the counters: crumpled bags from Captain’s Catch and grease-stained boxes from the Clam Shack.
Empty soda cans were stacked haphazardly near the sink, which was overflowing with dishes.
The smell of sour milk and rotting food was faint but undeniable.
Trash bulged from the can, a banana peel dangling like a surrender flag.
Lily pressed her fingers to her temples.
The mess felt too big. Every room in the house carried reminders.
David’s shoes were still in the entryway, dusty and untouched.
His mug, cracked but still whole, sat by the kitchen window.
She didn’t know where to start, and the thought of starting anywhere made her breathing become ragged.
When had she fallen into this trap of being a shell of the person she once was? When David was alive, there was never a dirty dish in the sink, and the house had always been spotless. Now, now it was too much of a mess to wrap her brain around.
When the knock came, sharp and sudden, her heart nearly stopped. She froze, pulse hammering in her ears.
Anna. The kids.
She hadn’t expected them this soon. Her stomach twisted as she looked around at the chaos. Panic set in. What would Anna think? What would the twins see?
Another knock. Then, the creak of the door.
“Lil? You home?”
Lily relaxed marginally at the sound of Margot’s familiar voice.
A moment later, her best friend walked into the kitchen as though she owned the place, as she always had.
Her silver curls were piled high on her head in a messy bun, and her bright coral lipstick was slightly smudged.
Despite being indoors, she wore her signature oversized sunglasses and carried a canvas tote that said Still Hot, Just Older.
“There you are,” Margot said, dropping the bag onto a chair. Her eyes scanned the room, but her expression didn’t change. No judgment, no surprise.
“You can’t just walk in,” Lily murmured, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.
“You weren’t answering your phone or the door. How do I know that you didn’t fall in the bathtub or something? I wasn’t sure if you were okay. Besides, I know Anna and the kids are on their way, and I figured I’d come ahead and help get things ready.”
“I don’t need help.”
“Sure you do. And I’ve got two arms and a functioning spine. Seems like a fair trade.”
Margot peeled off her sunglasses and set them on the table. Then she rolled up the sleeves of her leopard-print blouse with a kind of flair that made even cleaning look stylish.
“You don’t have to—”
“Lily,” Margot said gently, “I’ve been showing up here for thirty years and have seen you every day before that.
I brought you soup when you had that flu in ninety-seven, I babysat Anna when you and David took that trip to Vermont, and I cleaned this place top to bottom when you came home from the hospital after he… ”
Lily looked down.
Margot didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, she moved to the sink and started filling it with hot water, squirting in generous amounts of lemon-scented soap from the nearly empty bottle.
“You sit. Or help. Or don’t. I don’t care. I know it’s all overwhelming. I’m not letting Anna and those sweet babies walk into this house and think their mother and grandmother have given up.”
A lump formed in Lily’s throat. She sank into a chair at the table, silently watching as Margot slipped on a pair of rubber gloves from under the sink, where she knew they would be, and began scrubbing.
Margot didn’t flinch at the sour smell of old dishes. She didn’t sigh or scowl at the wrappers, dried food, or crumbs. She worked methodically, her bangles clinking softly as she moved.
“You always do this,” Lily said finally, her voice barely audible. “You come in and fix everything without asking.”
Margot smiled over her shoulder. “I don’t fix anything. I just help until you feel strong enough to fix it yourself.”
Lily bit her lip. She didn’t deserve a friend like Margot, but she was grateful for her.
The silence stretched for a while, filled only with the soft sounds of running water and the clinking of plates being stacked.
Every now and then, Margot would sing an old country tune under her breath.
Lily rolled her eyes and shook her head.
Her friend couldn’t carry a tune at all, but the sound was somehow comforting.
“Anna said Luke’s being deployed for a year,” Lily said eventually.
“Yes, she called me yesterday. That’s why she needs you. And you need her. You’ve been alone too long.”
Lily stared at the dusty sunlight filtering through the kitchen window. Her hand itched to wipe it clean, but she didn’t move.
“I don’t know if I can be what she needs. I barely keep myself going most days.”
“Then let her bring the light back in. That’s what family does. We trade off. You held her up when she scraped her knees and cried over college boys and had those babies. Let her hold you now.”
Margot began gathering the trash into a big bag she’d brought. Lily watched her friend move through the mess with quiet ease, never once looking down on it, never once flinching.
That was Margot’s gift. She never judged, only showed up.
Lily’s fingers trembled slightly as she reached for a sponge. Margot noticed, said nothing, and simply slid the dish soap closer.
For the next hour, they worked in near silence. Occasionally, Margot would hum a tune under her breath again.
“I think the birds keep coming back earlier and earlier each year,” Margot said randomly as she glanced out the back window.
When the last dish was rinsed and set to dry, she handed Lily a glass of water and nodded toward the couch.
“Let’s take a break.”
Lily followed her. She sat gingerly, the fatigue of grief still etched into her bones. It had taken everything in her just to wash dishes; how was she supposed to handle Anna and the twins being here if that had exhausted her?
“I must be getting sick. Maybe I should have Anna get a hotel or stay with Cody. I don’t want the kids to get sick. There’s no reason I should be this tired.”
“It’s not that you’re getting sick,” Margot said softly. “It’s that you’re moving through your grief and depression. Your body is trying to protect you from your heartbreak and fighting against you.”
“That’s nonsense,” Lily said quickly.
“It’s not. It’s the same thing I went through. My counselor explained that it’s normal to have to move through this stuff.”
Lily shook her head, not wanting to listen to her friend’s words. Then she let out a long sigh, realizing that Margot was right.
“I don’t know how to live without him,” Lily said. It was the most honest thing she’d said in weeks.
Margot reached over and took her hand. Her grip was warm and strong.
“You don’t have to know today. But you do have to try. And lucky for you, I’m as stubborn as they come. So, I’ll be right here.”
Lily closed her eyes and inhaled slowly.
Margot was the rock that she needed but hadn’t really allowed to be there for her.
She always showed up, though, even when Lily was less than cordial to her.
David’s brother, her sister-in-law, and the kids had tried to be there for her, but she fought them every step of the way.
Margot was somewhat of a miracle worker in the way that she effortlessly moved about the house cleaning and tidying up like a fairy godmother. She was an angel and Lily was grateful for her, even if she rarely showed that.
“Don’t you have a life of your own?” Lily asked playfully.
“Nah, you’re my only reason for living, dear friend,” she quipped as she laughed.
Lily rolled her eyes and shook her head as she started sweeping the kitchen. Lily’s brain was screaming at her to go back to bed and hide from the rest of the world, but she knew that she couldn’t.
She had to work beside Margot and be ready for her daughter and grandkids when they arrived. They needed her, and for now, that’s what was keeping her afloat.