one of them called out.
“Home!” the boy answered cheerfully and pushed open his apartment door.
The first thing he saw was his neighbor, Mrs. Peterson, crying.
“What happened?” Alex asked, confused.
And then he saw his mom. She was lying on the sofa, a sheet pulled up over her face, with one arm hanging off the side. His mom’s hand, her slender wrist, her neatly filed nails. She had always dreamed of getting a professional manicure but never had the money. On her finger was a simple silver ring. His mom said it had been her grandmother’s, for good luck.
“Mom! Mommy!” Alex cried, rushing toward her.
He understood instantly, but he couldn’t believe it.
“No, the paramedics were talking about someone else. The coroner is for someone else, not for my mom. No, she’s just sleeping.”
The boy pulled back the sheet and touched her forehead with a trembling hand, just like his mom always did to check if he had a fever. He snatched his hand back in horror. His mother’s forehead was ice-cold.
“Alex, honey, don’t,” Mrs. Peterson wept, wrapping her arms around the boy. “Your mommy’s gone to sleep, a forever sleep.”
Alex buried his face in his neighbor’s shoulder and began to cry, a quiet, wounded whimper like a puppy’s. His sobs were filled with so much pain and grief that the grown woman struggled to keep from wailing herself. How could this happen? A young, beautiful woman, practically still a girl, lying there, lifeless.
That morning, Mrs. Peterson had called her neighbor, knowing Ellie was home. When Ellie didn’t answer, she figured she had stepped out. Then she smelled something burning. She remembered Ellie had given her a spare key once, just in case Alex forgot his or she locked herself out. Mrs. Peterson opened the door and went to the kitchen. The stove was on, a pan sitting on the burner. Ellie must have forgotten to turn it off after making Alex eggs, and the boy hadn’t noticed. Mrs. Peterson turned everything off, opened a window, and glanced into the living room. Ellie was asleep.
“Ellie, what were you thinking?” the neighbor said reproachfully. “You could have burned the whole place down. The pan nearly melted.”
Ellie didn’t move. Mrs. Peterson was about to leave, not wanting to disturb her, but something about Ellie’s position seemed unnatural. She touched her shoulder. And that’s when she realized something was terribly wrong. The paramedics who arrived confirmed she had passed away.
That day, Mrs. Peterson took Alex to her apartment. The boy was silent now, staring at a single spot on the wall. He was alone in the world. Completely alone. No, it was impossible to believe. They would take his mom to the hospital, and there, she would just… wake up. That happens sometimes. He’d heard stories.
Soon, he heard movement on the landing. He ran to look. It was Aunt Susan, bringing funeral wreaths to their apartment.
“Get those out of here! Throw them away!” Alex screamed, running out of the neighbor’s apartment. “We don’t need any of that! Mom’s alive! She’s alive!”
Susan said nothing. She just held the boy tightly, and they stood there on the landing, crying together.
On the day of Ellie’s funeral, a blizzard raged. But Alex didn’t feel the sharp snowflakes stinging his face or the icy wind whipping at his neck. He walked behind his mother’s casket, understanding that this was it. He would never see her again. No one would ever ask him, “Honey, how was school today? Did you eat? I made your favorite meatballs for you this morning.” To hell with the meatballs! What was he even thinking about? He would never see her eyes again. Her long, light-brown hair that framed her face so beautifully. She would never hug him again, never hold him close. He would never again smell that faint scent of vanilla that always clung to her.
He barely remembered the casket being lowered, the grave being filled. Everything blurred. There was a “before” and an “after.” His mom was here, and now she was gone.
After the reception, Susan immediately took Alex home with her. She’d had to argue with her husband, Paul, the night before. He was dead set against having a stranger’s child live with them.
“Susan, I’d understand if he were a little kid. But Alex is almost twelve. He has his own personality, his own habits. And he’s not our kid, Sue. He’s a stranger,” Paul had argued.
“He’s not a stranger to me!” Susan retorted. “He’s my best friend’s son. I promised her I wouldn’t abandon him.”
“And what do you know about his background?” Paul pressed on. “Okay, Ellie was a good person, didn’t drink. But what about his father? Do you know him? What if he’s some kind of criminal?”
“I met him a few times. He’s very wealthy, and he didn’t seem like a thug.”
“Then let him take the boy!”
“Paul, I’ve told you a thousand times how he treated Ellie. He won’t take Alex now either. Don’t you see? The boy will end up in foster care. I can’t let that happen. He’s a good kid, really. You’ll get used to him. Yes, he’s not a baby, but you didn’t want a baby yourself, and then… Why am I even saying this?”
She looked at her husband with pain in her eyes. Paul lowered his gaze. Yes, they had been through a difficult time. Susan had gotten pregnant before they were married, but Paul had convinced her it wasn’t the right time. They didn’t have their own place yet. He was barely making ends meet, and Susan was still in college. She had listened to him. Two years later, when Paul had saved enough for a down payment on a house, they got married, and everything seemed to be falling into place. But then they found out Susan couldn’t have children. That first pregnancy had been her only chance. The grief was unbearable. Paul blamed himself, too. They even separated for a while before getting back together. They loved each other too much. They decided they would live for each other. Maybe, someday, they would consider adoption.
Time passed. They had even looked into the process a few times, but something always held them back. Susan honestly admitted to Paul that she didn’t think she could love a stranger’s child. And Paul had agreed with her. And now here was Alex. A stranger, too. But Susan had known him since he was born, had babysat him. He wasn’t a stranger to her. In the end, she convinced Paul to take Alex in, at least for a while. They would figure it out from there.
Two months passed since Ellie’s death. Alex was still living with Susan and Paul. Paul, who had been so against the idea at first, found himself thinking that Alex wasn’t bothering him at all. Yes, after such a tragedy, the boy was withdrawn, quiet, and sometimes shy. But over time, he began to thaw. He started coming out of his room more often to watch football with them. He helped Susan with chores around the house, did the dishes. One day, he even offered to shovel the snow from the driveway.
“You know, he’s a good kid,” Paul whispered to Susan one night before they went to sleep. “Let’s start the paperwork to become his legal guardians. He’s living here on a temporary basis, and they could take him away at any time.”
Susan had made an arrangement with Family Services, but it was indeed temporary.
“Do you think it will work out? Will Alex ever feel at home with us?” Susan asked.
“Why are you having second thoughts now?” Paul smiled. “You were the one convincing me everything would be fine. I believe it now, so why don’t you?”
“I don’t know. When I look into his eyes, I want to cry myself. They’re so sad. And they look so much like Ellie’s.”
“Well, what did you expect? The boy lost his mother two months ago. It takes an adult a year to recover from something like that, and he’s just a kid. It’s okay, we’ll help him heal. The ice is breaking. You see it yourself, he’s starting to talk to us. That first week, he was like a scared little animal hiding in his room. You even had to bring his meals to him.”
“Yes, poor Alex has been through so much. Paul, thank you.”
“For what?”
“For agreeing to take him in. To be honest, I can’t imagine our lives any other way now.”
Paul’s face lit up.
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