“What if she doesn’t want to see me?”
The way his mother smiled made him feel like he was five years old again. “Why wouldn’t she?”
Mantis shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time,” he muttered.
His mother stood and started taking things out of the cupboard and refrigerator, amassing a pile on the kitchen counter.
“What are you doing?”
“Making cookies. Maybe brownies too.”
“Why?”
His mother squeezed his shoulder when she walked past him to turn the oven on. “Your nieces and nephews will be ascending on our house one day soon.”
Her smile at the thought warmed Mantis all over. He still hadn’t seen Jonas, Theresa, or their kids, and he was anxious to.
“When will they be here?”
“Let’s see…I’m fuzzy on what day, but Jonas said nine, so Theresa is probably thinking more like ten. With four littles to wrangle—not that the baby takes much wrangling—my best guess is between eleven and noon. I feel better being prepared, whichever day it is.”
Mantis smiled. “You have it all figured out, don’t you?”
“There was a time I had three littles of my own.”
His mother was great about celebrating the happy memories of having three boys, but at times like these, early in the morning when the day was still raw, he saw the pain that sat so close to her surface.
“Ian was so much older than you and your brother, though. It wasn’t as hard for me to do things as it is for Theresa, who has four under ten.”
“Really? God, I’ve never thought of it in those terms.”
“She manages fine, as does Jonas.”
Mantis shook his head and took another sip of coffee. He closed his eyes, wishing Alegria was here with them, talking to his mother, helping her make cookies, and bestowing one of her smiles of understanding on him.
“Ethan is the same age Ian was when you were born. He’s a big help to his mama, just like Ian was to me.”
His older brother would’ve turned forty this year,
and that made Mantis feel his own age. Thirty—and without much of a sense of purpose anymore.
What might life have been like if Ian hadn’t run into the second tower on that fateful morning eighteen years ago? Would he still be a firefighter? Would he be married, have kids like Jonas did, or be a bachelor like he was?
“Go see her, Gehring.”
“I don’t know, Mom. There has to come a time when I respect the fact that Alegria doesn’t want me in her life.”
“But she does.”
“No offense, but how do you know what she wants?”
His mother sat back down at the table and put her hand on his. “Tell me what you know about her. Five things. The five most important things.”
“Wow. Um…”
“Take your time.” She stood and went back to making cookies.
This was tough. He knew countless things about her, but naming only five, and what he considered the top five, was difficult.