Wars at Home

Chapter 9

I stared into the open suitcase on my bed, wondering if I was forgetting anything important. I hadn't been able to think straight since Andrew and Thomas left. Even now, staring at the things before of me, I didn't really see any of it. It was just a blur. Everything was. I almost didn't care.

All I felt like doing was curling into a ball on the bed, crying, and falling into oblivion. But that wasn't an option. I couldn't afford to fall apart the way I had when Samuel left. I was all that James and Victoria had at the moment. As hard as it was, I had to keep going for them.

They'd both been so good through all of this. Rarely complaining, never fighting, and always acting so brave. I know James thought of himself as the man of the house now, and Victoria acted so calm and competent all the time that it was easy to forget that they were still only children. They were scared and hurting just like I was. It felt as if my world was falling apart, but I didn't doubt that it felt that way to them too. Through their eyes, I imagined that everything would be much more frightening than it was for me.

No, there would be no giving in to my desire to wallow in my own grief. I couldn't do a thing to help their brothers or Andrew, but I could still be the mother they needed.

"Mama?" The tiny voice came from behind me.

I took a deep breath, wiped the ever-present tears from my eyes, and prepared to act alright before I turned to see Victoria standing in the doorway.

"Yes, Sweetheart."

"I'm all packed," she said softly. "And James is almost done."

As Andrew wanted, we were going to stay with Julia and Daniel. I was glad that he thought of telling me to do that. The way my brain was functioning right now, it wouldn't have even occurred to me, and it would be torturous to stay around this big house with no adult support, and while half of my family was missing.

"Alright." I attempted a smile. "I'll be finished in a bit and then we can go."

She nodded but didn't turn to leave right away. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but also like she wasn't sure if she should.

"What is it, Honey?" I prodded.

"What about Snowflake?" She looked so concerned. "Mama, he won't understand. I don't want him to starve."

After we returned from our Christmas visit to Julia's, Victoria discovered the cat hiding under the front steps. The animal was mangy and filthy, and looked nothing like snow. But Victoria had dubbed him Snowflake because he was all white. Or at least I assumed he was. Covered in so much dirt, he looked to be more of a dingy gray. But she loved him and had faithfully put out a small bowl of milk and some kitchen scraps every day.

If only a stray cat were my biggest worry.

I held out my arms for her. "Come here."

She gladly came to me and put her small arms around my waist.

"Snowflake will be just fine." I smoothed back her hair.

She looked up. "You promise?"

"Of course, Sweetie. He's a street cat. He knows how to survive. The things that you give him are more of a special treat. He'll always know how to find food."

"Really?" I was glad to see some of the worry leave her sweet face.

"Really." I smiled. "In fact, I think he's gotten a bit chubby since you started feeding him."

She smiled, but still seemed as if something was bothering her. I waited, but she just rested her head against my stomach and hugged me.

I held her, wondering why she was suddenly so cautious. She normally didn't hesitate to come to me when something troubled her.