Three weeks have passed since Mom came back from the hospital, and since then, I haven’t left her side. I haven’t let her even try to climb the stairs. I moved everything into the room downstairs and divided the chores among all of us. Even Joel, who's only nine, pitches in without a single complaint. No one says a word—except Mom, of course. She hates this, hates feeling useless. But she’s made real progress on her newest book, or at least that’s what Sarah, her editor, told me when she came by.
Carl doesn’t complain when it’s his turn to do the dishes. Lily vacuums the floor. Joel folds the laundry like a little soldier. And me? I try to cook, though God knows it's not my strong suit. But they eat it without a word, no wrinkled noses, no complaints. They just smile, and it breaks me a l
