At home, I changed into a tank top and a pair of shorts.
I found Noah in the front room, standing in front of the shrine to his mother. At least that’s how I thought of it. I watched as he lit a tea light and carefully put it in the heavy glass receptacle in front of his mother’s picture, which had been given to him by her parents shortly after her death two years ago.
Standing to the right of the picture of Kayla was a statue of the Sacred Heart, which Mama had given to us. On the other side was a picture of Jackson, Noah, and myself as we goofed off in the photo booth at the mall. Mama had also supplied a rosary and prayer cards. And just to round things off, a small tinsel Christmas tree stood in the back, which I’d bought at Dollar General for a buck for Noah’s first Christmas. It wa
