“Yeah…..you’re right. I feel it today.” I massaged my neck as I walked towards the kitchen. “So what do you want to eat?”

“Do we have any Apple Jacks left?”

“Yes, we do.”

Angie helped retrieve the items needed for us to have some cereal. She surprised me on this morning, having gotten up before I had to wake her. I was concerned she may not have slept so well.

“Did you sleep okay?”

Angie pushed the top off the milk. “Yep. Do you want the milk?”

“Sure. Thanks.” I poured the milk over my cereal and glanced over at Angie when I placed it back on the table. I felt reserved, but wanted so much to have some dialogue with my daughter. I knew how I felt afterwards last night, and I also knew how she had to have been feeling. “….so…..after last night, are you feeling okay….I mean…a lot has happened in our lives over the last couple of days.”

“Yeah…I’m okay.”

“I’m not so sure I believe you.”

“I am…..it’s just a little weird I guess.”

“In what way?”

Angie crunched on her cereal as Grace sat nearby, hoping to catch a crumb or two should Angie be a little careless.

“Well…it’s like now I know her…but in a way, I still really don’t. Ya know what I mean?”

I did know what she meant….completely.

“Yes, I do know how that feels. What’s really important though Angie, is that you really understand that what happened with Momma T, was not your fault. “

I could tell by Angie’s complete avoidance of the last statement, that she was not going to accept that so easily. Until I spoke with Cindy, I wasn’t prepared to go any further.

“So….did you get your assignment done?”

“Yes. I’ll turn it in this morning.”

“Good. First thing right?”

“Yes, I promise.”

Grace began pacing, getting anxious. “Come on Gracie, let’s go outside.” I took hold of her collar and brought her down the steps and clipped her to runner. “go do your business.”

When I finally returned to the kitchen, Angie was no longer there. I started cleaning the table off and found my thoughts jumping between my concern for Angie and how this was all really sitting with her, and my desire to speak with Fran as soon as I could. I found myself just needing to hear her warm voice. My thoughts were interrupted by my cell phone.

“Hello, Bette Porter.”

“Bette, it’s Cindy.”

“Thank god. When can I get in?”

“I have a cancellation today, at 315pm. Can you come then?”

“Sure…..Angie get’s of school at 230pm. That will work perfectly.”

“Look, if you have a moment, can you just send me an email before you get here this afternoon. I’d like to know what has happened up to this point, what she knows, how she has been handling it all. It will help for me to have that ahead of time so we can make some real progress in the hour you both are here.”

“I’ll do that, thanks so much Cindy.”

“And….how are you doing?”

I wasn’t prepared to talk about myself. The truth was, I wasn’t so sure how I was doing. I knew I was feeling so alive with Fran in my life, and my focus surrounding Tina’s death had changed before I had really understood it. It was as if, instead of emerging myself in my own solitude and grief, I was now emerging myself into my concern for Angie, how all of this was going to ultimately affect her. My daughter was, and remained my immediate responsibility and focus. However, I knew that Cindy was still awaiting some type of response to her question…..