Drew lifted her into his arms – Silver Threads
For him the loss of Jennifer became more pronounced with every day that passed. Long after everyone else had retired for the night, he circled through the rooms, picking up a forgotten dish, emptying one last ashtray, doing the small everyday chores he’d seen her do a thousand times. And as he wiped the kitchen counter or straightened the bathroom towels, he remembered her doing these same things—only for her it seemed so easy. She did it with such nonchalance; a single stroke and the counter glistened, whereas he’d sponged it three times and still there were odd spots of jelly or catsup.
On the day of the funeral, Brooke clung to him with a ferocity he’d never before seen. Throughout the service and even at the graveside, she’d not said a word. At the very end she’d held to his hand as they moved forward and placed the two roses atop Jennifer’s coffin. That’s when she began to sob hysterically. Drew lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the car.
That night she climbed into his bed and slept beside him, in the exact spot where her mama had once laid her head.