Page 120 of A Silence So Divine

Her face instantly falls, eyes softening.“Of course I do.”

“Good.”Lacing my fingers through hers, we walk to the house.

Forty Nine

Eden

Candlelight flickers in the center of the grand dining table. We’ve removed the extra seats, leaving only one for each of us. Perched on the far end of the table is the old record player, Creed insisting that we play it during our meal.“Eden likes music,”he told his brother. The two made quick work of setting it up.

Tomorrow is the day. The day we go into battle. The day I’ll join Mama.

Creed still doesn’t know. It will only distract him, make him worry more than he already is. Besides, no one can change the outcome.

Dinner feels very much like a last meal. Spread before us is more than we could possibly eat in one night. Yesterday, Cecil had clambered into the house with bags upon bags of groceries. Today, he and I played sous chef while Creed ordered us around the kitchen. It was amusing, but there were a few times that I wanted to throw in the towel.

“I said to soften the butter, not melt it!”

“There’s a difference between sliced onions and diced onions.”

“Fingers out!”

The last remark had been made to Cecil whilst he sampled the mashed potatoes. His finger was halfway to his mouth when Creed caught him, demanding he not taste them until the very end. With a glower that could kill, he wiped the potatoes on a paper towel.

Creed made a point to make all of our favorite foods. Roasted chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, baked carrots, and rolls, for me. There’s even pancake batter in the fridge for dessert.

For Cecil, he made steak stir fry, blueberry muffins, and baked macaroni and cheese.

For himself, he’s prepared a large dish of lasagna, with homemade garlic bread.

It’s ridiculous in the very best way.

After hours of slaving over the meal, it feels overwhelming to finally sit down in front of it. The three of us peer at one another, waiting for someone else to dig in first. There is something unspoken passing around. An urge to do something, say something.

“Should we say grace?”Creed asks, a dimple in his cheek. His brother and I both snort, and that's enough to break the tension.

Plates are passed around until we each have multiple laid out in front of us. The first bite is delicious, which comes as no surprise, but the emotion that follows is.

The music swells, echoing off of the high ceilings. Every meal that I ate as a child was held in this room, with Papa and I at opposite ends of the table. I would eat my bland meal and imagine that each chair was filled with people that loved me. People that didn’t think there was something wrong with me. They would joke, and I would laugh, and they’d smile at me fondly. Like a family.

“Eden?” The sound of my name has my head jerking up, and I meet two pairs of green eyes, worry etched into each.

A tickle trails down my cheek, and I catch it before it can fall from my chin. A pink streak paints the back of my hand.

“Sorry,”I sign quickly.

Creed sets his fork down.“What is it? Are you scared?”

“No,”I shake my head quickly. A sad smile forms on my lips.“I’m happy.”

And I am. So happy, in fact, that I don’t want to leave.

Creed abandons his chair and rounds the table until he’s standing at my back. Leaning forward, he wraps his arms around my shoulders and presses a kiss just above my ear. I relax into his warmth, swallowing down the swell of sorrow.

Eyes closed, I attempt to memorize the way it feels to be loved. And to be held.

When I open my eyes, Cecil is staring at me, his jaw set firmly. An understanding passes between us, and he looks away first.

This could be my last night alive. All I want is to love and be loved.