“NO!” my siblings shouted.

“It’s final. or we’re moving.” dad said sternly.

All my siblings started talking at once.

My eyes brimmed with tears, but I couldn’t cry, not now.

It was my 6-year-old sister Lowella who piped up. “It’s because of mommy, isn’t it?”

Everyone stopped. Forks clattered on plates. My siblings stopped in mid sentences. Everyone froze. No one had talked about mother since the accident. No one.

“Go to bed.” My dad said in an icy tone to Lowella.

But it’s 5:00, complained Lowell.

Dad drew a shaky breath. You could tell he was upset.

“Go to bed, I’ll come up soon to read your bedtime story and apologize to Daddy, please.” I whispered to her.

She nodded in understanding. Lowella waddled toward my dad. Threw her arms around his neck. Kissed both cheeks and then said.” Sorry, Daddy. ”

“It’s okay.” Dad responded under his breath barely audible.

And with that, she ran up the stairs.

“May I be excused?” my 16-year-old brother, Mike asked.

“You may” replied Dad.

Every excused themselves after that. It was my turn to clear the dishes. I scraped my chair back and made my way around the table slowly picking up the dishes.

Later, I open Lowella’s and my room. She was sitting on her bed.

“Which bedtime story do you want?” I asked.

“My favorite Sunny.” she answered excitedly.

“Once Upon a time, I began…”

After I had finished, I turned off the lights and tucked her into bed. While we were lying on our beds, she asked, “when is mommy coming back?”

I took a deep breath, and with my voice cracking replied “She’s never coming back. Lollipop.” Calling her by the nickname Mike gave her.

To be continued