I was pretty sure my mother had lost it.
When I showed up to bring her lunch on my day off, I wasn't exactly shocked to find her outside feeding the deer. But the scene I actually came upon was rather...surprising.
"Mom, what on earth are you doing?"
Her shoulders jumped at the sound of my voice, and she turned to me, hand on her heart. "Mamma mia, Davina Grace!" Shaking her head, she collected her breath before turning back to the feeding trough in her yard, mumbling, "You scared the daylights out of me."
A feeding trough.
There was a feeding trough in my mother's backyard. It was full of oats and she was covering the top of them with a layer of chopped apples, a hearty invitation for the neighborhood deer to come on over and dine.
I knew that grief could be a fickle thing, affecting everyone in different ways, manifesting in a range of emotions often misunderstood by others, but this immediately didn't seem like a great idea.
"Where did you get that thing? And why?" I asked, nodding to the galvanized monstrosity.
That probably wasn't a fair assessment. It wasn't monstrous by any means, about half the size of your average bathtub, raised on four sturdy posts to a good feeding height. But when something that belongs on a farm pops up somewhere that's decidedly not a farm, the item in question automatically takes up more real estate than necessary.
Mom shrugged. "The internet," she replied as though it was the most obvious answer to a very silly question. "You can order anything online these days, Davina. And with just two day shipping."
"I know about online shopping." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Maybe we can skip to the part where you tell me why you bought a feeding trough to put in your backyard."
"Because I wanted to," she said softly, chopping away at her apples.
I plopped down on one of the patio chairs. "Fair enough," I mumbled in defeat.
It wasn't as though her love of feeding animals was a secret. I just never expected her to go to such an extreme. When my eyes locked onto the massive amount of oats inside the trough, I cringed at the thought of what other kinds of local critters might have a taste for them.
"It's awfully close to the house." I mentioned with a tilt of my head, studying the short distance. "Aren't you worried about rodents?"
"That can be handled easily," she muttered.
"What about ticks and...feces?" The deer droppings were bad enough without her providing all that extra nutrition. I didn't want to think about the mess to come.
"That will also be handled."
"By who?"
She spared me a glance and sighed. "You don't need to worry about it."
"I'm going to worry about it."
She rolled her eyes. "Calmati, Davina."
"I am calm," I said with an unintentional snap, coming to my feet and walking toward her. I gestured to the trough. "I'm just concerned. I know you love feeding the deer, Mom, but this is too much. Where did you even get this idea?"
"From Dalton," Mom said, her voice soft, the answer gutting me.
It was the first time she'd mentioned him in casual conversation since he passed, and hearing his name in her motherly voice again, the two syllables flowing from her mouth like a broken lullaby, had my heart jolting in my chest.
"He picked everything out," she continued, just above a whisper, keeping her hands busy with the apples. "Before he went to Chicago. We researched and he helped me pick the trough, made arrangements for the oats to be delivered and it just...never happened." She set her knife down and finally looked at me again. "I wanted to make it happen."
Misery filled my lungs, making it hard to breathe, and my shoulders sank in defeat. "Mamma, I'm sorry," I said as I moved closer, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her against me. "I didn't know."
She heaved a weary sigh that vibrated through the both of us. It filled me with sadness, reopening all my unhealed wounds of grief. "You couldn't have known."
"I could have been nicer," I pointed out. Feeling rotten, I looked down at the bag of apples and reached for her paring knife. "Can I help?"
Mom looked up at me with a frail smile and nodded. "Of course."
Slowly, she eased down into the grass and I stood at the trough. The next few minutes passed in a solemn quiet, except for the satisfying slice of the apples in my hand. I was still worried about the deer feeding station and the potential hazard it raised, but the mention of Dalton had tamed my concern for the moment.
"There's a man in New England who feeds the deer just like this," Mom said, breaking the silence after a bit. "He owns many troughs, fills them with apples every morning, and then has a live video online so people can watch them grazing all day long."
I quartered another apple and tossed it over the oats. "That's nice of him."
"The chewing is very loud sometimes," she added with a laugh. "But I don't mind it so much because they're very cute. You should watch it sometime."
"I don't know." I laughed with her. "Just thinking about the sound of them crunching on apples is making me angry. I'd better avoid the livestream at all costs."
"You could turn the sound down," she suggested.
"That's true." I looked down at her as she picked grass blades and rubbed them between her fingers. I couldn't help noticing how relieved she looked to be sitting, and it made me wonder just how long she'd been on her feet before I showed up.
The thought filled me with worry, but I set it aside and tried to stay present as she continued her musings.
"Dalton used to come over and we'd watch it together for a little while before dinner. When I told him I wished I had a trough of my own to feed the deer, he didn't hesitate to start planning." Her eyes lifted to meet mine and she gave me the glimmer of a smile. "He never minded my feeding the animals."
"It's not that I mind," I quickly clarified. "I just want to make sure it's done safely and that the maintenance won't take too much out of you."
"Never you mind about that." She waved a hand at me. "I have a helper."
At the mention of this helper, my mind went to Dante with hope. Was it possible that he'd taken some initiative for once? Hard to believe, considering I could barely get him to stop by the house and visit our mother, let alone assist her on an outdoor project, but who else could it be?
I didn't have to think too long about that one. All I had to do was look down at the bag of apples I was chopping up, and the answer came in fast and clear.
Cosmic. A hybrid variety that could only be found at the grocery store in Renlow Park. The same ones a friendly police officer had been traveling three towns over to pick up for her.
My stomach did that same little twirl it always did when Spence came to mind, which had been a lot lately, despite my efforts to rid my mind of him completely.
I wasn't ready to bring him up and confirm he was the helper behind the deer feeding station, but I felt pretty confident it was him. It was such a Lovejoy move, another sweet contradiction to that tough exterior he wore so often. The exact kind of thing that made me like him so much, despite the other truths that screamed at me to despise him.
I hadn't figured out how to handle that conundrum yet. Maybe I never would.
All I knew was that being without him hadn't gotten any easier. My only saving grace was that mask of indifference I wore so well, the one that kept me numb. I'd grown exhausted of pulling it off and putting it back on again, so I just never took it off anymore. It worked just fine.
"Spencer says he doesn't see much of you these days," Mom said, all casual, as though my heart wasn't innately moved by the mere sound of his name.
Thank you, mother. My mask only worked if no one brought him up.
Or if I went a whole day at work without seeing him.
Or a whole day at home without looking out my front window to try and catch his comings and goings.
Or if I resisted the urge to wear the hoodie he left at my house that smelled Just. Like. Him.
"He lives across the street and we work together," I mentioned, trying to keep my voice as casual as hers. "We see each other all the time."
That statement was miserably true, annoying, and it made me feel pathetic. But it also made me feel other things when I did look out that front window, searching for him, and found him searching for me too. My heart was racing just thinking about it.
I should probably move.
I spared a glance at Mom. She looked back at me with softness in her eyes, but her brows were actively climbing with intrigue, and I felt a conversation coming. One that I didn't want to have. When she opened her mouth to say something, I cut her off.
"Has Dante been around to see you?"
My abrupt question set things back on the silent course and it wasn't the pleasant kind. I hated myself for it, but I had no regrets.
Looking down at the grass again, she picked a few more blades and tore them to shreds in her lap. "Dante is busy, Davina."
Of course...
This time, when my mouth opened to respond, Mom was the one shooting me a don't go there plea, and I decided to let her have it.
If I didn't pry about Dante, maybe she'd let me off about Spence. That seemed fair.
"You should give Spencer a chance," she said, apparently not letting me off. "Good looks different on everyone, you know."
I ignored her. Shifting the paring knife around in my grasp, I reached for another apple, finding the bag empty.
"Oh, darn," I lamented, about as fake as a person could lament, but I'd stumbled onto the perfect escape, and I wasn't going to squander it. "You're out of apples. I better go get you some more."
"No need," Mom said as she came to her feet. She wiped her hands on her apron and sighed. "The boy you won't talk about will bring me some more."
I huffed at that, feeling exposed. "He doesn't need to be running errands for you. Besides, I could use the drive."
Mom rolled her eyes like I was making it up, but that wasn't a lie at all.
Renlow Park was a whole twenty miles away. Maybe a change of scene would help clear my head and give me some much-needed time out of Fairhaven for once.
"Problems aren't handled by running," Mom said to me as we walked toward the patio. "Everyone needs grace sometimes, Davina Grace."
She sounded like a Pinterest board I didn't want to follow.
After getting her settled back inside, I bolted out the door. I couldn't get out of there fast enough.