𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 | 𝟏# 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑟𝑡𝑦-𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 | 𝐵𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑘'𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑢𝑙𝑡

LOGAN

~Cold by aqualung and lucy schwartz

In my hand are two fully packed plastic bags. In my mouth, I hold the house key, shutting the car door with my foot as I walked through the front yard to Miss Monets house with the heavy bags.

Today, unfortunately, I had to do all the shopping by myself. Jeremy was supposed to help me, but he suddenly had to do something somewhere else. I don't think it's bad, either. I mean, I like helping Miss Monets, and I appreciate any help I can give her.

The front yard is already done, which means only the shopping is missing. After this, I can go home, so I give Brook company at her brother's grave.

I have to be honest, I don't know myself how I'll feel at this point. I've had a weird feeling all day.

Not that it's strange or that I don't want to accompany her, but because I knew Layton, I know how much he deserved better than that.

Yes, I will do everything to make sure that Brook continues to feel well because it seems to me that she's doing better. Maybe I'm wrong and don't see what is behind the walls, but I'd go out on a limb and say that it is like I think.

Somehow I tried to move the other two bags in my left hand to my right and then open the door. When I managed to do that, the smell of dinner hit my nose.

So I went with the bags after I closed the door to Miss Monets's kitchen. I could find her there, where she was standing at the stove and just putting something from the pot into a plate.

"Look, I've cooked something for you for all this trouble you're going through all by yourself without the others." I put all the bags on the round wooden table with the flower on it and smiled.

"Oh, you didn't have to do that. You're using up the whole groceries for me." "What nonsense, what are you saying? That was just a few groceries, that's not the world. But the world is that you're eating enough today after using so much power to help me."

She pointed to me with the wooden spoon with red sauce on it and was already brave and slightly snotty.

I really appreciate the dinner from Miss Monets. She is the kind of grandmother of our house, with whom we can always eat or can come when we are stressed.

She is the replacement that we don't have here in the family. I was just about to unpack the things from the bags and put them in their place in the kitchen just as quickly, but Miss Montes forestalled me.

Immediately I look at my hands on hers somewhat trembling hands, and I was beside myself. "Oh, come on, I can do that myself. Come, sit down, take off your jacket, and eat what I cooked for you."

Miss Monets doesn't really want to see that she needs a little more help during this time, but she is not ungrateful. You can be more precise, realize how thankful she is. However, she likes to do the little things like taking groceries out herself, not to feel useless.