Chapter 32 #2
They both burst out laughing, their faces beaming with pride at the reaction they got.
“Sorry, Mommy,” Riley says, her voice sweet and innocent, and she looks up at me with those big eyes of hers, a mischievous smile creeping on her face.
I can’t help but smile back as I bend down to kiss her head, her soft curls tickling my cheek.
Then I stand up to wrap Mindy in a hug, her arms tight around me.
She’s covered in flour, her hands still dusted in white powder, and I can tell she’s been fully involved in whatever little baking adventure Riley had planned for us.
Riley’s little face is smeared with icing, and I gently wipe it off with my finger, chuckling as I do. “What are you two doing? Looks like a baking war happened in here.”
Mindy grins sheepishly, looking down at herself. “It’s definitely a war, but I think I lost.” She brushes a few flour streaks off her shirt and glances down at Riley, who’s proudly licking icing off the top of a cupcake.
“What are these for?” I ask, raising an eyebrow as I look between them. There’s a certain sweetness in the air, a warmth that feels like home.
“They’re for us when we go see Daddy,” Riley says, licking the icing off her fingers, smiling brightly.
I feel a soft ache in my chest at her words. It’s always tough when we go visit Trevor’s grave.
“Aww, that’s lovely,” I say, my voice a little softer now as I kneel beside Riley. I take the cupcake from her hand, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.
Riley nods eagerly, holding her cupcake tightly. “We made them special,” she says, beaming with pride.
“Thank you, baby,” I say, my voice thick with emotion.
I kiss the top of her head, inhaling the sweet smell of flour and frosting that clings to her hair. It’s moments like these, when everything feels soft and warm, that I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, life could be okay again.
Mindy watches us, leaning against the counter, a soft smile on her face. She’s a quiet kind of support, the kind you don’t notice until it hits you. And in moments like this, I’m so grateful for her presence.
“It was Riley’s idea,” she says with a wink. “She insisted we make them, so…here we are.”
I laugh softly, shaking my head. “That sounds like Riley. Always the little planner.” I turn to Mindy, my heart swelling with warmth. “Thanks for doing this. You didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.”
Mindy shrugs, brushing a few stray flour specks off her shirt. “What are friends for? Besides, I’m happy to help. You and Riley are family.”
I smile, feeling the quiet weight of her words. We may not be bound by blood, but the bond we share is just as real.
“Let me get dressed, and then we can head out,” I say, standing up and brushing a few flour specks off my jeans.
I glance at Riley, who’s still licking icing off her fingers, her smile wide and innocent. Her eyes hold so much love, so much brightness, and in this moment, I wish I could bottle up her joy forever.
Upstairs, I make my way into my room, the quiet weight of the house pressing in around me.
I pause at the window for a moment, the sunlight streaming in, casting everything in a warm, golden glow.
There’s peace in these moments, even if it feels fleeting.
The air is fresh, the storm from a couple of nights ago now nothing more than a distant memory.
I run my fingers through my hair, still damp from the day, and head toward the closet. I pick out a simple, light-colored blouse, something comfortable yet soft. The floral pattern feels fitting for the day, bright and delicate.
Once I’m ready, I head downstairs, the sounds of Riley’s laughter filling the house.
She’s already dressed in her best outfit for the day, her hair brushed, but there’s still icing smeared on her cheek.
When I step into the living room, I can see Mindy picking up the cupcakes, her arms full and ready to go.
“Ready when you are,” Mindy says with a soft smile, the look in her eyes understanding. She’s been my rock these last few years, and today, she’s here again—offering her quiet support, no questions asked.
I glance over at Riley, who’s holding the cupcakes proudly. She looks up at me with a little sparkle in her eyes. “Mommy, are you ready to go?” Her words are filled with innocent excitement, her small hand tugging at mine.
I kneel down to her level, cupping her face gently. “Yes, sweetheart. We’re ready.”
We walk out to the car, the sun hanging low in the sky.
The drive to the cemetery is silent but not uncomfortable.
It’s the kind of quiet where we don’t need words to know what the other is feeling.
The hum of the car, the wind in the trees, the soft chirp of birds outside, the world around us seems to breathe with us.
The weather couldn’t be more perfect: sunny, with just the right breeze to make it feel fresh. It’s as if the storm that raged through a few nights ago has made way for something new, something peaceful.
When we arrive at the cemetery, I help Riley out of the car.
Her small hand slips into mine, the grip tight but trusting.
She’s quiet today, more so than usual, but I can see it in her eyes, the curiosity, the questions she doesn’t fully understand.
Still, she’s here. She’s learned to come to terms with this place, even if she doesn’t fully grasp why we’re here.
We walk through the rows of stones, the sun casting long shadows across the path. The cemetery is peaceful, more so than usual today. The world is quiet, and it feels as if everything around us is holding its breath. We stop at Trevor’s grave, and for a moment, it feels like the world stops too.
I kneel in front of the headstone, my fingers brushing lightly over the cool stone.
“Hi, Trev,” I whisper, my voice barely more than a breath. I let the silence settle around me, let the memories of him wash over me.
Riley tugs at my sleeve, her small face serious as she holds the tray of cupcakes. She looks up at me, her eyes wide. “Can we put them here?” she asks, her voice soft.
I nod, my heart tight in my chest. “Yes, baby. Let’s put them here for Daddy.”
We place the cupcakes carefully on the ground side by side, like a small offering to him.
I look at Riley as she watches the process, her fingers resting gently on the stone.
I can see how much she cares, how much she still feels the loss in her own way and in that moment, I realize just how much she’s growing, how much she’s understanding.
Riley pulls away for a moment, turning back to her bag and pulling out a small notebook and crayon.
She starts to draw, her little tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrates.
Her drawing is simple, a house with a big sun, the kind of thing only a child could create.
But I can see what she’s doing. It’s her way of sharing, of expressing what she can’t fully say.
“This is for Daddy, Mommy,” she says, handing me the picture once it’s done. “He can see it in the clouds.”
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I take the drawing from her. It’s so simple, so pure. And yet, it feels like everything.
“It’s beautiful, sweetheart,” I say softly, brushing a tear away. “He will love it.”
We sit there for a while, just the three of us together. Riley leans against me, her head resting on my shoulder as I sit with Trevor’s memory.
“So, let’s tell Dad everything we’ve gotten up to these last two months, shall we?” I say, smiling softly, my heart swelling as I look at Riley.
She grins back at me, her eyes sparkling with that innocent joy only a child can have when sharing something important. Her small fingers wrap around the cupcake in her hand, and she takes a big bite, icing smearing on her cheek as she talks excitedly.
And that’s how we spend the afternoon, sitting on a soft blanket, nestled on the grass near Trevor’s grave, the world around us quiet, save for the sound of Riley’s voice.
We talk about everything: the ranch, the lake, the horses.
Riley’s voice is full of enthusiasm as she recounts every small victory with the horses, the way she’s been learning to ride, her small triumphs, and the time she spent with Mindy, laughing as she tries to trot properly.
She pauses, licking icing off her finger, and then, with her usual chattiness, she brings up Miles. “And we met Miles!” she exclaims, her smile wide and proud. “He’s my best friend now!”
My chest tightens, a small ache pulling at my heart. She talks about him so freely, so easily, and for a moment, I can’t help but let myself wonder if maybe she’s feeling more secure about him than I am. But I smile through the bittersweet tug in my chest, my gaze softening.
I don’t know what to say. Not yet. But I don’t have to, not now.
So I keep quiet, allowing Riley to talk about everything.
Riley continues, moving on to a new topic, but I can’t shake the thought of Miles. He’s become such an important part of our lives, yet I haven’t been able to put it into words—how much he means, how much he’s shifted something in me.
Maybe it’s too soon. Maybe I’m still scared.
I rest back on the blanket, the warmth of the sun mingling with the cool breeze. Riley finishes her cupcake and reaches for the drawing pad beside her. She starts sketching something else, her tongue poking out the side of her mouth again as she concentrates.
I can’t help but smile.
It’s peaceful here. The simple act of sharing memories with Riley, of keeping Trevor’s memory alive, feels comforting, almost sacred. The world seems to stop for a moment, and all that matters is this small space we’ve carved out together.