Long road ahead

Sliding the last cooler into the back of her SUV, Mallory let out a long, exhausted sigh. She stood there for a moment, staring at the ridiculous amount of stuff she’d somehow managed to cram into every available inch of space. She’d always been an overpacker. It didn’t matter if they were leaving for a weekend or two weeks; she’d pack enough clothes, snacks, blankets, and just-in-case supplies to survive a small apocalypse. Brandon used to give her hell for it. Every single family vacation, he’d stand in the driveway, arms crossed, watching her attempt to squeeze one more bag into an already overflowing vehicle. “Mal, sweetheart, we’re going on vacation. We’re not moving across the country.” She could practically hear his voice, that familiar teasing tone, followed by the deep laugh she loved so much. The memory brought a small smile to her lips, but it disappeared almost as quickly as it came. Tears slipped down her cheeks. This was all so much. Because this time, they were moving across the country. And Brandon wasn’t there to tease her about it. He wasn’t standing behind her, shaking his head with that crooked grin. He wasn’t offering to rearrange everything so it would fit, even though she’d insist she had it handled. He wasn’t there to wrap his arms around her waist, kiss the side of her head, and tell her she was ridiculous. He was just…gone. Mallory swallowed hard, God, she was tired of crying. Tired of the way the smallest, stupidest things could knock the wind right out of her. A half-empty coffee cup. His favorite sweatshirt. The passenger seat of her SUV. Even packing a damn cooler. She reached up and wiped beneath her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, then took one last look at the carefully stacked bags. She had packed for family adventures, beach trips, and summer vacations. There had always been something exciting waiting at the other end of the drive. This time, she was packing up what was left of their life. And for the first time in 16 years, she had to figure out how to get everyone where they needed to go without him. “Mom?” Mallory turned at the sound of Eli’s voice. Her fifteen-year-old son stepped out of the house with Dane perched on his hip, one arm wrapped securely around his little brother while the other held a small blue blanket that had seen better days. At fifteen, Eli was getting so tall that Mallory sometimes had to remind herself he was still just a kid. He’d shot up over the last year, over six foot now, his shoulders broadening and his face had lost the softness of childhood. His messy blond hair stuck up in the back, and the expression on his face was one she’d grown far too familiar with lately. He looked tired. They all did. “Everything fit?” he asked, nodding toward the SUV. “Barely,” she answered, forcing a small smile. “But you know me.” Eli glanced at the overflowing trunk and shook his head. “Dad would’ve had a field day with this.” The words came so naturally that for a split second, neither of them seemed to realize what he’d said. Then Eli’s expression changed. Mallory felt that familiar ache settle deep in her chest. “He would’ve,” she agreed softly. “Probably would’ve told me we needed to rent a U-Haul just for my snacks.” Eli let out a quiet laugh, barely more than a breath, but it was something. She hadn’t heard him laugh much lately. Dane rested his head against his brother’s shoulder, his little fingers twisted tightly into the fabric of Eli’s hoodie. His bright blue eyes watched Mallory without much expression. Her sweet baby boy. At two years and a half years old, Dane should’ve been running around the driveway, getting into things he wasn’t supposed to, and making everyone crazy with his endless energy. Instead, he’d become painfully quiet. Ever since Brandon’s funeral, it was as though someone had turned down the volume on her youngest child. He still spoke occasionally, usually when he wanted something from Eli or Ava, but the constant babbling, the giggles, and the endless demands for snacks had all but disappeared. He didn’t understand death. Not really. He understood that Daddy had gone away. He understood that everyone cried now. And he understood that no matter how many times he asked, Daddy wasn’t coming home. Mallory had tried explaining it in ways a two-year-old might understand, but how could she possibly make sense of something she couldn’t even begin to accept herself? “Hey, handsome,” she said gently, reaching toward him. “You wanna come see Mama?” Dane studied her for a moment before turning his face into Eli’s neck. The rejection stung, even though she knew it shouldn’t. “It’s okay, buddy,” Eli murmured, rubbing his little brother’s back. “I got you.” Mallory dropped her hand and smiled, hoping Eli hadn’t noticed the hurt that flashed across her face. Dane loved her. She knew that. But lately, he seemed happiest when he was with his siblings or curled up beside Flash, their ridiculously lazy golden retriever. Flash had been Brandon’s idea. He’d insisted that every family needed a dog, and when they’d brought home the fluffy golden puppy, Brandon had proudly announced that his name would be Flash. It had seemed fitting at the time. Unfortunately, Flash had grown into a dog whose greatest athletic achievement was making it from the couch to his food bowl before someone else got there. The irony had never been lost on Brandon. “FLASH! COME ON!” Mallory closed her eyes. And there was Ava. Her eight-year-old daughter came marching out of the house, gripping the dog’s leash with both hands as she attempted to drag nearly eighty pounds of uncooperative golden retriever across the front porch. Flash, apparently offended by the idea of physical activity before noon, had planted all four paws firmly against the wooden boards. “Ava, honey, don’t drag him!” Mallory called. “I’m NOT!” Ava shouted back, despite very clearly doing exactly that. “He’s being stubborn!” “Maybe because you’re trying to pull his head off,” Eli muttered. Ava whipped around. “I’m NOT pulling his head off, ELI!” “Could’ve fooled me.” “Mom! Tell him to stop!” Mallory sighed. And there it was. The familiar sound of her children bickering. For one brief moment, it almost felt normal. Ava was the sweetest little girl Mallory had ever known. She had a heart big enough for everyone she met, cried when she saw injured animals, and insisted on hugging people whenever she thought they looked sad. She was also fully capable of arguing with both of her brothers over absolutely nothing. Sometimes within the same five minutes. With her long red hair escaping its messy braid and her green eyes flashing with irritation, Ava looked so much like Mallory at that age it was almost frightening. “Ava, sweetheart, let go of the leash for a second.” “But Mom, we have to GO! You said we needed to leave early!” “I know what I said. Flash isn’t going anywhere without us.” Ava reluctantly loosened her grip. The second she stopped pulling, Flash plopped his furry backside onto the porch with a dramatic huff. Eli snorted. “Wow. Real speed demon.” “Shut up, Eli!” “AVA,” Mallory warned. “What? He started it!” Eli grinned, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Mallory shook her head, fighting the smile tugging at her lips. “Both of you, ENOUGH! Eli, can you put Dane in his car seat, please? Ava, grab Flash’s water bowl from the kitchen. I’ll get him loaded.”