Nora woke up in the late afternoon. Her eyes felt scratchy from crying herself to sleep. The blanket was all twisted around her, and the room was dim with evening light peeking through the curtains. Her chest still hurt, but the sadness wasn't as strong...it felt softer, like she was too tired to feel it at all.
She grabbed a hoodie and went downstairs. Her mom was in the kitchen, chopping rosemary. The kitchen smelled like herbs and roasting chicken. Ellie, her little sister, was out with friends, so the house was quiet.
"Hey, sweetie," her mom said with a smile. "Wanna help?"
Nora nodded and picked up a peeler for the potatoes. They chopped and stirred together. It felt good, like normal life. Almost like nothing happened.
Grinning a bit, Nora said, "Dad's cooking was way better than yours. No offense."
Her mom gasped, faking anger, and waved a wooden spoon at her. "Hey! My lasagna was famous around here!"
"Yeah, until Dad's ribs showed up and beat it," Nora teased. She could picture him at the grill, apron dirty, laughing like crazy.
Her mom laughed too. "Okay, you win. Your dad ruled the kitchen. But I'm not that terrible, right?"
"Never," Nora said, her voice quiet. "I miss his food. I miss him."
"Me too, sweetie," her mom said, her eyes soft. "Every single day."
They set the table for two...chicken with rosemary, mashed potatoes, and green beans. Ellie called while they cooked, her face glowing from an amusement park. "You're missing out!" she shouted, showing her friends waving. "I'm staying out tonight, okay? Love you!"
"Love you too," Nora and her mom said, laughing as Ellie blew a kiss and hung up. The house felt warm with just them.
While eating, Nora poked at her food with her fork. "Mom," she said, "how did you and Dad really meet? You always say a train, but I know there's more."
Her mom's eyes lit up. She put down her glass and leaned back. "You're too nosy! Okay, here's the actual truth." She took a breath. "I was 22, and my boyfriend at the time...a total jerk...ditched me on our anniversary. I was so mad, I went to an old bar to drink cheap wine."
Nora raised an eyebrow. "You? At a bar? By yourself?"
"Yep," her mom said, grinning. "I was talking to myself like a weirdo. Your dad was the bartender, ready to leave. He has just finished his shift. But he saw me...sad, drunk, and pathetic...and stayed. He said something in the lines of 'If you're gonna talk to yourself, at least pick a better audience.'"
Nora laughed. "That's so Dad.""Right?" Her mom smiled. "We started talking, and it was like we were old friends. We liked the same silly humor and cheesy action movies. I told him the wine tasted like 'fermented regret,' and he shot back, 'Lady, you ordered the house special, so that's on you.' I laughed so hard I forgot I was upset."
Nora grinned. "So why didn't you stay in touch?"
Her mom shrugged. "He was just a nice guy that night. I didn't even get his name. Then, two years later, I was on a crowded bus, and there he was, reading a sci-fi book I'd talked about at the bar. We knew each other right away, and that was it."
Nora leaned in. "That's kind of magical."
"It was," her mom said quietly. "But it wasn't perfect. Love's messy, Nora. When I lost him, I thought I'd never breathe again. You and Ellie kept me going. Grief doesn't go away, but it changes. It gets easier, like a bruise that fades. You'll get there too. Just wait. Baby steps."
Nora nodded, her throat tight. She wanted to believe it, but missing Caleb still hurt a lot.They cleaned up and went to the living room, curling up under a blanket on the couch. Her mom put on The Princess Bride, and the music filled the room. "This never gets old," her mom said, handing Nora some popcorn.
When Westley said, "As you wish," Nora giggled. "Caleb would've messed this up so bad."
Her mom laughed. "Your dad tried it once. Said 'As you wish' when I asked him to do the dishes. I threw a sponge at him."
Nora grinned, feeling warm inside. They quoted Inigo Montoya together, cracking up at the sword fights. But by the time Buttercup and Westley reunited, her mom was dozing off, her head dropping."
Mom, you're doing it again," Nora said, smiling. "You never finish this movie."Her mom mumbled, half-asleep, "I'm awake, I swear…" then started snoring softly.
Nora shook her head, feeling happy and sad at once. "Go to bed," she said gently. "I'm going to my room."
Her mom stirred, kissed Nora's forehead, and shuffled off. "Goodnight, sweetheart. Love you."
"Love you too," Nora said, watching her go.
In her room, Nora felt a little better, but the quiet made her think of Caleb again. She grabbed her phone, remembering how he'd text her goodnight when they were apart. Sleep tight, love. Dream of me. Now, it was silent.
She hadn't been back to their old apartment since he died. It was full of memories...good and bad...and she wasn't ready.To shake it off, she opened the Three Musketeers group chat. Maya and Lila had sent apology messages, goofy selfies with Ellie at the amusement park, and memes to cheer her up. "We're idiots, but we love you." "Look at this cute dog with a hat. How can you stay mad at us." they wrote.
Nora smiled. She couldn't stay mad. She typed, "You're the worst, but I love you too. Still need space, okay? Trust me."
Maya replied fast: "Fine, but we're kidnapping you soon. Deal?" Lila added a heart and said, "Take your time, babe. We're here."
Nora smiled and typed their sign-off: "To the moon and back, losers." They sent it back, and the chat went quiet.
Alone again, Nora thought about what to do. She needed something to feel better. She turned on her reading lamp, its light soft on her desk, and sat down. Her eyes landed on the diary her dad gave her...still empty. She'd never written in it, but now it felt right.
She opened it, and it creaked. She grabbed a pen and wrote, "Things I want to do for these two weeks. For me." Her hand shook a bit.Cooking class...to remember Dad teaching her to chop onions and laughing when she burned the sauce.
Guitar lessons...because Caleb was awesome with instruments, his fingers flying over the strings.
He'd been so perfect, so hers...until he wasn't.
She stopped, her pen hovering. Writing this was tough, but it was a start. She closed the diary, still hurting but a tiny bit hopeful. For the first time in days, she thought maybe she could get through this.