Amber got the call that her father had died at three in the morning. Her boyfriend had been the one to hear her phone vibrating against the nightstand and shook her awake before it went to voicemail. The voice on the other end was not someone familiar to Amber. The nurse speaking sounded older and monotone as she explained her father had died just moments before. She offered her condolences as Amber tried to process the information through her sleepy brain.
Even when she made the call to her little sister, Amber was not sure that she had truly processed the idea that her Dad was dead. Dead and gone, just like that. The doctors had warned them all this was coming. If they had been staring at the landscape of their father’s life, then death was coming on the horizon. Each holiday since had been filled with what-ifs and long talks about how things would be divided and of course Dad’s remaining bits of wisdom. The cancer had to just come into a good man’s life and wreck it all.
Of course, the doctor said it was a seizure that had been the one to finish the cancer’s job. That’s why no one had been able to make it up there in time to say any real final goodbyes. It was just a seizure and then it was all over. Suddenly the world was still turning and functioning, but Amber and Gloria no longer had their Dad.
Mark hugged Amber one last time as she got her bags into the trunk.
“I’m so sorry I can’t go,” he said.
Amber shook her head. “It’s fine. You need to be there for work anyways, I can handle this.”
While her boyfriend had more to say, he didn’t push it when Amber’s phone pinged with a text from Gloria asking when she would be at her house to pick her up. Mark hugged her one final time, then let Amber go.
Gloria only lived about two hours from Amber and Mark’s little apartment. Her sister had a little townhome away from all the bustle of city life. Amber stood on the pink welcome mat outside as she waited for Gloria to unlock the door. Her head felt fuzzy the longer she stood there. Any time she tried to focus on one thought for too long, her other thoughts would begin to slip in and she’d lose her focus.
Dad is dead. That was about the only thought Amber really could seem to focus on for more than two seconds.
Gloria looked as distraught as any daughter would be after losing their father when she finally opened the door. Gloria looked like what Amber thought she would look like when her Dad died. Her eyes were puffy and red, and her clothes had tear stains and were wrinkled. Gloria had thrown her hair up into a messy bun just before answering the door.
Amber didn’t say much, she just leaned in and hugged her little sister.
“He’s gone,” she sobbed. “He’s gone, he’s gone, what are we supposed to do?”
Usually, Amber had an answer. Out of the two of them, though a bit standoffish and blunt, Amber was the voice of reason. Then, was that not the job of an older sister? To be the steadfast child who could carry the world upon her shoulders without so much as flinching? Gloria was the princess who hid behind a wall. Amber was the wall, the army, and the swords that handled the brute work.
Gloria sobbed for the first half of the fourteen-hour trip too, rambling off old memories and how much she missed their Dad already. Amber listened but still had yet to cry.
“You’re just in shock,” her boyfriend, Mark, told her on the phone at a gas station. “I’ll be here when you cry.”
Amber appreciated her boyfriend’s gesture, but she wasn’t sure she would cry for weeks. Even when they pulled up to their childhood home, no tears came. Gloria sniffled again, tears beginning to slide down her cheeks once again. All Amber felt was a pit of dread opening in her stomach as she stared at the little house. Decorations filled the lawn. Tiny statues of gnomes and a little welcome flag hung off a pole near the path to the door. When Amber looked around the side, a little farther away she could see the ocean. At least seeing the sea again would be nice.
That pit in her stomach grew deeper when their Mom stumbled out of the house, holding a can of Bud Light.
Gloria got out of the car first, meeting her Mom halfway up the driveway and wrapping her arms around their Mom’s brittle frame. Amber didn’t wave and instead went to get her bags from the trunk.
“It’s good to see you again,” her Mom said as Amber slammed the trunk closed. “Terrible time or not.”
“Yeah.” That was about the only response Amber could muster as she hoisted all her bags onto her arm and headed for the front door.
Why couldn’t you have died somewhere else? Why this place? Why with her?
The house was the same as Amber remembered growing up in. All the walls were supposed to be white but had begun to stain yellow from the years of smoking gone on inside. Tacky decorations from estate sales and yard sales were hung everywhere, outnumbering the pictures. The TV was off for once. If Amber closed her eyes, she could picture herself being a kid again. Gloria and her would play tag inside the house on cold, rainy days when they couldn’t go outside. Their father would be reading some book about boats or the newspaper until he was dragged into Amber and Gloria’s childish antics and games. Her Mom was not welcome in the memories she replayed, and when one tried to come to mind, Amber opened her eyes and turned to go down the hall.
Her childhood bedroom hadn’t changed either. The walls still held a map of the world and a poster of the Backstreet Boys. The photo of Amber, Gloria, and her Dad was still propped up on her nightstand. There was a thin layer of dust around the wooden frame. Her bed had the same blue comforter and gray pillows. Her dresser had a few books she hadn’t been able to pack up and take with her, mostly classical literature like The Iliad and Paradise Lost. The whole room looked like it had been frozen in time twenty years ago. A time when she was so desperate to get out she left behind the few reasons she survived in this town and only kept in touch through emails and phone calls. The singular reason she ever even made brief visits was for her Dad and Amber made a point to stay at hotels rather than her childhood home. The only reason she was at the house this time was because Gloria wanted to be there. This was also Dad’s death and not just a short weekend visit.
Amber dropped her bags near the front of the bed, sending a quick text to Mark to tell him she made it, before beginning to unpack. Just as she was putting up her funeral dress, a knock echoed through the room. Gloria was standing near the open door. Her face was puffy and red still. All her makeup that she put on in the car was smeared.
“Mom’s going to the store, you want anything?”
“Nah. I got all I need.”
Gloria nodded her head, then came further into the room, taking it all in slowly. “I can’t believe they never changed it up.”
“You know Dad was never good with change.”
“No, no he wasn’t.”
Their father was a man set in his ways, but he wasn’t one of those men who was a jerk over it. He was a kind, gentle man who loved everyone who came across him. He was the kind of man who had the same routine every single day and never deviated off of that path. Amber could recite that routine down to the hour. Wake up, drink a mug of tea, read the paper, take a walk down to the ocean, and then come home in time before Amber and Gloria were up to get the day started. By nine at night, he’d settle into his place on the couch and watch whatever movie piqued his interest on the TV.
Gloria reached down, picking at her pink nails. “I just…I can’t believe he’s really gone, you know? I mean, I know he is but, it doesn’t feel…real, I guess.”
“I know. Maybe the funeral will make it real?”
“Maybe.”
The silence was thick. When Gloria finally got sick of it, she wandered out of Amber’s bedroom. No goodbye or message for later. She just left.
Gloria had always been that way. She ran from most confrontations. Amber remembered how often Gloria would cry to her and demand something be done, but when faced with the problem, she’d do nothing.
They didn’t speak again until after their Mom left for the store. Amber had to come out and get a glass of water. Gloria was lingering in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter and admiring the china cabinet. All their Grandma’s china was arranged inside, with a few pieces of china that their Mom bought over the years.
Grandma’s china was about the only thing that was never on the table to be sold or pawned when things got tight. They’d sell clothes, jewelry, furniture, toys, and any expendable thing they could find. Amber wondered why of all the things her Mom could have chosen to cling onto, why was it some porcelain? Why not her family?
Amber still remembered how much she used to hate it as a kid especially after her Mom sold off her laptop to make ends meet.
“She’s drinking again,” Gloria said.
“I noticed.”
Amber opened the fridge to look for a bottle of water. A case of beer was inside, part of the cardboard side pulled back to reveal the last two cans. She closed the fridge and went to grab a cup from the cabinet instead. The tap water wasn’t the worst she had ever drank.
“I guess rehab didn’t work.”
Gloria had been more hopeful about their Mom going to rehab. She had been the one to call Amber, rambling about how their Mom might finally change. Gloria truly believed that it would work this time. Amber didn’t buy it, but she tried to fake hope for Gloria’s sake. Gloria was still holding onto the idea that their Mom could be the woman she wanted her to be. Amber had stopped hoping for that long ago, far before she even left.
“Can’t say I’m surprised.”
“I know. I know,” Gloria crossed her arms. “I guess I just thought Dad getting sick might make her want to change her life.”
Their father getting sick had not made their Mom better in the slightest. If anything, it made their Mom worse. All those years being in and out of hospitals and treatment centers just made her crush more cans.
“I know you did, Gloria.”
Amber took a long drink of water. Gloria took a breath, staring off at the china cabinet.
“You know, she told me, before she left, that she missed us.”
“I’m sure she did.”
Amber had stopped keeping in much contact with her. The only time she spoke was when she had to, especially after Christmas two years ago. Her Mom could be persistent and tried to have her Dad push through her slimy little messages, but Amber always tried to avoid them.
“You think him being gone will change her?” Gloria asked.
“No. If she couldn’t change for us before, she won’t now. She’ll drink herself to death and we’ll just hold another funeral.”
“Amber.”
“What? You know it’s true.”
“I know, I know it’s just…maybe after the funeral we can talk to her?”
Amber shook her head. “As soon as the funeral is over, I’m not speaking with her again.”
“She lost her husband,” Gloria said, reaching over and touching Amber’s arm.
Amber scoffed, pulling her arm free. “And we lost our Dad. Notice how she didn’t call to tell us. Some nurse did. She’s not the sole victim here.” Amber then had to be the one to call her sister and spare her hearing from some tired nurse.
“What if she was in shock, I mean, we all kind of are. You haven’t even cried.”
“Of course I haven’t. I have barely been able to process Dad being dead because I’ve been caught up over all Mom’s shit. I’ve been more anxious about being around her than I’ve been sad about Dad.” Amber was pacing now.
“Then just…take a breath, Amber. Stop thinking about her for a moment.”
Now Amber laughed. “You’re right. Let me just stop thinking about Mom while being in this house. With her crap. Her beer. Her smoke. It’s all her, Gloria. I can’t just stop thinking about her.”
“Then why don’t we go outside for a moment?”
“I shouldn’t have to! I should be allowed to feel sad in my childhood home. I should be allowed to grieve in my dad’s home but I can’t!” She shouted.
There is a point when emotion bubbles over. When walls start to break and people lose their grip. There comes a point when the soldier can’t keep deflecting with a shield and has to react. Amber had come to that point. She had to react. She had to let something out before it killed her.
“Amber—”
“She has spent her life hurting us. Hurting you. Hurting dad,” Amber started to rattle off. “I am sick of having my life be affected by her and her acting as if it’s all just o-fucking-kay!”
Amber reached forward, grabbing a small plate from the china cabinet.
The plate went flying through the kitchen before shattering against the wall. White shards of china went scattering over the tile and the tiniest fragments got stuck in the cracks between the tiles. Amber was breathing hard, her face beginning to flush before she reached to grab another item to throw. Gloria reached forward, making a beeline through the kitchen to try and grab her wrists before they lost more of Grandma’s plates.
“Enough!” Gloria shouted.
Amber jerked, trying to pry her hands free. She wanted to break something else. She yanked again, and this time she got her right hand free. She grabbed another plate and hurled it at the wall. A scream tore through her throat.
“Amber stop!”
Amber didn’t. She didn’t want to. Everything she had pushed down was bubbling up and over and she wanted to just wreak havoc. She wanted to scream and break things and let something out. It had to get out of her before it killed her. If her Mom got to be mean, hurt them, sell their things, and make this whole situation worse, she could let off some steam. So she threw two more plates before Gloria wrapped her arms around Amber’s middle, dragging her back with all her strength.
“You have to calm down,” Gloria said, breathing rather hard herself, “You have to calm down. Take a deep breath before you pass out.”
Gloria pulled her sister back to the putrid couch and forced her to sit. Amber curled herself back into the corner, still breathing hard.
“You have got to calm down,” Gloria told her.
She sat down beside Amber, her knees turned toward her sister. Amber gave her a nasty glare, then looked away towards the yellow walls.
“I should’ve broken the bird plate,” Amber said.
It was their Mom’s favorite of Grandma’s plates. The plate was porcelain, with the edges painted in gold and little blue birds painted along the rim. They were all sitting on little green vines that flowed into a circle. Amber didn’t see the beauty of it.
“I think you broke enough.”
“No. Not enough.”
“You broke four plates today, two being Grandma’s.”
“Who cares?”
“Mom.”
“She doesn’t get to care.”
“She still will.”
“Well I don’t care. Our Dad died and— and it’s not even two o’clock in the afternoon and she’s drinking. I could smell the alcohol on her. She’s just—”
Gloria put her arm around Amber, squeezing her side. “Shh. I know.”
Amber’s hands curled into fists, gripping her blue jeans. “You’d think it would kill her just to be sober and be there for us. To just be a parent. To be there for her daughters.”
No one would be surprised if it would kill their Mom to be a parent. Despite having two kids, her parental instincts never seemed to kick in.
“Do you think she’ll stop for the funeral?” Gloria asked.
“That’s hard to say. She might, but then again I’ve seen her sneak flasks in before.” Amber scoffed, shaking her head again.
Amber looked past Gloria to the wall. A picture hung on the wall, taken back when Amber and Gloria were in middle school and each had an acne-covered face stuck somewhere between being little girls and growing women. On the left, of Gloria, was their Mom. Her stringy hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. She was still smiling with her teeth, having yet to lose any. Their father was on the right, hand resting on Amber’s shoulder. He was grinning through his heavy brown beard. They were standing on the S.S. Flora, their Uncle Tom’s boat.
Amber still remembered that day, it was one of the few happy memories with her family where she felt happy. She missed that day. She missed happier times when she was still just a little naive. Most of all, she just missed having her Dad around her. Her Dad had been there for all the moments she needed him there for. Her Dad was the person she knew no matter what, she could always turn to, and now he was gone.
Gloria leaned onto Amber’s shoulder. “How are we going to make it through this week? How did Dad love her?”
Amber wrapped her arm around Gloria, loosely holding her back. “I ask myself that all the time.”
Their Dad had been too good for their Mom, but he loved her. He loved her despite all her faults. Their relationship was like watching two opposites push against each other. If their Mom was the soul-sucking, gaping darkness, their father was the bright, welcoming light. He would let their Mom consume him if it meant she’d be happy.
Amber wished he didn’t. Amber wished he would have just gotten sick of her and taken Gloria and her and left Maine.
Amber and Gloria sat in silence, embracing each other in the quiet of the living room. They were together in their grief, in their anger, and frustration. They were together in the death of their father and the last remaining good of their childhood.
Gloria squeezed her sister, then got up off the couch. “…wanna go down to the beach with me? We can pick some sea glass, get out of this place. Talk about Dad a little?”
“What about the china?”
“I doubt a little more mess will make a difference.”
Amber briefly wondered if deep down, Gloria wanted to hurt their mom just as much as Amber had when throwing those plates. Probably not, but Amber would not mind if her sister was a little vindictive too for once.
Amber got off the couch, brushing down her skinny jeans. “Let me just grab my wallet. I’ll get us dinner.”
For a moment, Amber wondered if they’d make it out. If they really could just weather their Mom again for the sake of saying goodbye to their Dad. Afterward, Amber could just walk away. Without her Dad, she could finally be rid of her Mom. She would step out of her Mom’s life and never look back. Her Mom could not cut and hurt Amber her entire life and then be forgiven. Forgiveness was long gone.
Amber fished out her wallet from her bag and pulled on her sneakers. They were a beat-up pair and she was surprised the soles had not ripped. The only other shoes Amber brought were the heels she would wear to the funeral.
Before she left the room, Amber stopped to pick up the picture on her dresser. This was how she wanted to remember her Dad. Young, healthy, and so happy. His warm smile as he squeezed his arms around Amber and Gloria. The way he smelled like the sea and not like a sterile hospital room. She wanted to remember her Dad not as a sick cancer patient, but as her hero dad who was always there.
She kissed the frame, then set it down.
“Love you.”
Then she left the room, closing the door.
Hopefully, her Mom didn’t try going through any of their stuff. Amber hadn’t brought anything really expensive, but she wouldn’t put it past her Mom.
“All set?” Gloria was waiting by the front door, adjusting her small purse over her shoulder.
“All set—”
The front door opened and their Mom stumbled her way into the house. She had two brown papers in her hand. They were full of something. Gloria reached out to grab one that was about to tip over.
“Hey! Perfect timing you two,” their Mom said. “I got us dinner.”
“Dinner?” Amber deadpanned.
Gloria brought the bag to the couch, trying to avoid attention to the kitchen. The broken china was still all over the place. When her Mom walked by, all Amber could smell was the alcohol. Amber hoped that she walked and didn’t take the car. Drunk driving was one of the things that bothered Amber the most about her Mom. Her Mom could make her choices, but Amber didn’t want anyone else to suffer because of those choices.
“Yeah! I picked up some stuff from Frankie’s for you girls.” She set the other bag down by Gloria and pulled out the first item on top. “Look! I even got us cherry pie slices!”
Frankie’s was a small family-owned store. Amber could admit they had good food and it wouldn’t be a terrible idea for dinner. Except seeing the pie slices made all that burning rage come roaring back to life in Amber. Her hands curled up into fists.
“Are you serious?” Amber said. “Like, are you really serious Mom?”
Their Mom looked over, her eyes a bit wide and caught off guard. “What?
“Mom. Cherry pie?”
“Yeah? Cherry pie! You girls love it. I got it for dessert to make us all feel a little better.”
“Mom, I’m allergic to cherries,” Amber finally broke.
“Since when?” Her Mom asked.
Truth be told, a stranger probably knew Amber better than her Mom. It wasn’t that their Mom had not known. The allergy had come on later in life, but she had told them everyone so no one brought cherries to the family dinners. When they met up for more than Christmas. Even then, Amber made sure to remind her Mom.
Amber stepped forward, pointing at her Mom. “Since four years ago! I told you numerous times.”
Her Mom scoffed, “I think I’d remember what things my kid is allergic to.”
Amber laughed. “Right, right, because you just remember everything. You’re so great at remembering. Like my allergies, my boyfriend’s name, or, you know, to call and tell me my dad died!”
“Amber,” her Mom said. “I was trying to talk with another doctor.”
“I deserved to hear it from someone I know. Not some stranger.”
“I was going to call you!”
“But you didn’t! You were going to do a lot of things Mom and none of those things happened!”
“Name one thing I went back on, Amber.”
“Easy. Your third rehab. Good job keeping up with that one. Great waste of money that was again.”
“I had to be there for your dad!”
“He was with the nurses! Gloria was going to fly in. We had it planned out so you could get better and lo and behold, you skipped out.”
Amber looked at her sister. As usual, she was standing away from the blowout. Her eyes were big and darting between her sister and her Mom, her arms hugging around herself. Gloria looked like a ship caught in the light of a lighthouse.
“I—” Their mom started to say. “I was doing my best. You know I was.”
“Well your best isn’t good enough. It’s never been good enough and I am sick of dealing with the alcohol. With you.” Amber pushed her finger into her Mom’s chest. “After the funeral, I am gone. I am done and I am washing my hands of you for the rest of my life.”
“You can’t walk out on family, Amber,” her Mom said.
“Watch me.”
Amber turned, storming off into the kitchen. This was it. This was the crescendo of the world’s longest song. Finally, the end was coming. Amber wretched open the china cabinet and grabbed the bird plate. Her Mom came in behind her, and Amber heard the way she gasped.
“What did you do?” She shouted.
Amber saw Gloria rush in next, her eyes wide as she watched Amber lift and throw the plate down on the floor. The entire world seemed to stop, frozen in that moment of horror. Amber watched how the porcelain decorated the ground below, a variety of different sizes. She could see part of a painted bird’s head staring up at her with its beady black eyes.
“You…Get out,” her Mom finally spoke. There were tears in her eyes. “Get out!”
And Amber laughed.
“You want me to get out? Now? Because I broke a plate? That’s what finally makes you show emotion and stop covering it up with alcohol?”
All those years of staring at drunken smiles. Amber would be sobbing her eyes out to her Mom. Then nothing would come of it. No warm hugs to comfort, no stroking her hair and face, or even reassuring words. The most her Mom had ever tried to do when Amber was crying over a broken heart was offer her a beer. Amber had been twelve. Amber would have given anything at that moment just to have a mom to rely on. To have a real mother in her life.
That was the day Amber realized she was never going to get her Mom. There was never even one to begin with.
“Get out of my house! You broke your Grandma’s china, that was all I had!”
Amber stepped closer, her sneakers crushing more of the shards. “And how does it feel?”
Her Mom reached up and backhanded her Amber. Her wedding ring scratched Amber’s cheek. A red line blossomed over her skin.
It was not the first time her Mom had hit Amber. She reached up and set her hand over the cut.
“Mom!” Gloria finally spoke up, stepping closer.
“Just leave!”
Amber moved to try and go around. Gloria was shouting now, in a volume Amber had never really heard from her meek little sister.
“You hit Amber! What the hell?”
“She broke it!”
“She’s grieving! She’s mad. You can’t hit her for it.”
“I am her Mom and whether she likes it or not, I can do whatever I want.” Her words were slurring.
Amber moved to her old bedroom. There were a few hotels nearby. Probably wouldn’t be cheap since they were so close to the ocean, but it would be just for the funeral. Gloria could either leave or find another way home.
Once again, Amber packed up her things, dragging them out of the house to the car. She could smell the salt of the sea. It felt oddly peaceful when Amber could still hear the shouting fest inside the house.
Gloria had never had the stomach for a screaming match. Then again, Amber had never forced Gloria to fight her own battles. Amber did the brawling, and the screaming, and had been the one to take all the blows to shield her sister from all that pain. Gloria could sit back and weep a little, but Gloria was not the fighter.
Amber just hoped that Gloria got out sooner than she did.
The docks had been one of their Dad’s favorite places. Though he never had the money to get a ship of his own, he had a lot of friends that he would go out with. If he needed the cash he’d work on boats too. Amber remembered how often she’d walk with him, pointing out all the boats and telling stories he knew. The stories were about the people who owned the ships, his time working on them, or sometimes just sea myths.
Sitting at the edge of a small pier, when Amber shut her eyes tightly, she could drown out all the other sounds and hear her Dad. Amber didn’t hear the screaming, the boat horns, or the singing of any sailors. She heard her Dad.
Alone, her tears finally started, despite how she tried to keep them back with her eyes closed.
Amber wished he was here. She wished he was here to hold her and tell her she would be okay. She wanted her Dad to be here and not be forcing her to say goodbye. All the things she wanted, Amber was never going to get, and she was going to have to let that go. Nothing lasts forever and everything would leave in time. This time it had just been her Dad.
Amber rubbed her eyes with her wrists. She took deep breaths, trying to collect herself. She always hated crying, she didn’t want even a stranger to see her finally break down. So she tried to suck it all back inside until she could get to a hotel.
The sky was growing dark, and the sun was starting to disappear behind the horizon. It was getting colder. The waves were breaking against the wooden structure. Footsteps were the only thing to break Amber from her quiet state of mind, and she looked around quickly.
Gloria was puffy-faced and red again. She had her rolling bag behind her and her hair was down.
Amber got up to come over. “What are you doing?”
Gloria sniffled. “Looking for you.”
“Why? What happened?”
Gloria let go of her bag, stepping forward to hug Amber. “I—” She stopped speaking and buried her face into Amber’s shoulder.
Amber didn’t try to say anything. She just put her arms around Gloria and held her. Gloria cried again. They just stood there on the dock, holding onto each other. For a moment, it was just them again. Nothing else but two sisters.
“Why? Why does she have to do this to us?” Gloria finally asked, pulling back just enough so she could wipe her eyes. “Why can’t she change?”
“If I knew I would have fixed this mess long ago,” Amber said.
“I just…I don’t get it. How could she do this to us? Dad is dead and she— She’s drinking.”
“Addiction is a nasty thing, Gloria.”
Gloria shook her head. “I know, I know. The rehab centers told me the same spiel I just still don’t understand. I wanted mom to be there for us.”
Finally, Gloria was starting to realize. There was no Mom. If she was there, she was long buried under all that drink. There was no hope for them to find her. Still, deep in the grief of losing their Dad, they would have to grapple with grieving the death of a still-living Mom too.
“I hate this. I hate it so much.”
Amber squeezed her arms around her sister. “I know. I’m sorry I left you back there.”
“It’s okay. I’m sorry I just let her hit you.”
“You didn’t have time to react. That’s not your fault.”
“But I am sorry.”
“It’s fine, Gloria. You’re not the one I hate.”
Gloria sniffled again. “Promise?”
“I promise. You’re my baby sister. You’re a good person and I love you. And if there’s any way we get through this, it’s together. Right? Me and you.”
“Dad should be here too.”
“Cancer is a bitch. But I have you. You have me.”
Gloria nodded, wiping under her eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Amber hoped that wherever her Dad was now, he at least knew that they’d be okay. She hoped he knew that they’d be fine. The two of them would weather this storm like all the others, but for now, they would enjoy being in the eye of it.
Gloria glanced at Amber’s face and just gave a little unsure smile.
“Dinner still on the table?” She asked.
They were going to be just fine.