The following day, Theo came to our house.
I heard the knock while I was standing in the kitchen, looking at a mug Jack had left beside the sink during one of his last visits home.
It was an ordinary mug.
Blue around the rim, with a small chip near the handle.
I had washed it countless times without thinking about it.
Now I found myself unable to put it away.
Daniel answered the door.
Theo stood outside wearing jeans and a sweatshirt.
For a second, I almost expected to see the red dress.
The thought made me feel guilty.
He had worn it for Jack, and now I couldn't stop associating it with the funeral.
Theo stepped inside.
"Hi."
Daniel pulled him into a brief hug.
"Come in."
Theo looked toward the kitchen.
"Mrs. Harris?"
"I'm here."
He walked over and gave me a hug too.
He seemed more like himself than he had the day before, but his eyes were still tired.
I asked whether he wanted anything to eat.
He said he was fine.
I offered him something anyway.
He smiled.
"You sound like Jack."
I stopped moving.
Then I laughed softly.
"I've been told that before."
We sat at the kitchen table.
The same table where Theo had done homework as a child.
The same place where Jack had once insisted that a grilled cheese sandwich counted as a balanced meal because it contained food from at least two categories.
I could almost hear him making the argument.
Theo looked around the room.
"Everything feels strange."
I nodded.
"It does."
He ran his finger along the edge of the table.
"I keep thinking I should go over to your house and see Jack."
The words settled between us.
I didn't tell him that I had been thinking the same thing.
I had caught myself checking the time because I expected to drive to an appointment.
I had woken during the night and listened for sounds from Jack's room.
For a few seconds, I had forgotten.
Then I remembered.
Theo looked at me.
"Does that happen to you?"
"All the time."
He nodded.
We sat quietly.
I didn't feel the need to fill every pause anymore.
Maybe that was something grief taught you.
There were moments when words helped.
There were others when the best thing you could offer was a chair, a cup of tea, and enough time for someone to breathe.
After a while, Theo told us he had returned the dress to Emma.
"She wouldn't take it back."
I raised my eyebrows.
"Why not?"
Theo gave a tired laugh.
"She said it had become too important to return."
Daniel smiled.
"What does that mean?"
Theo shrugged.
"She said it was no longer just a dress."
I looked at him.
"And what did you say?"
"That it was still her dress."
He paused.
"She disagreed."
I could imagine the conversation.
Emma had always seemed practical to me, but she also had a stubborn streak.
If she decided something mattered, arguing with her could take all afternoon.
Theo rubbed his palms against his jeans.
"I didn't know what to do with it."
I looked toward the stairs.
"Do you want to leave it here for now?"
He considered the suggestion.
Then he shook his head.
"I think I'll keep it."
Daniel looked at him.
"Are you sure?"
Theo nodded.
"Jack asked me to wear it. I did."
He looked down at his hands.
"I don't want to treat it like something I need to hide now."
I felt a quiet ache in my chest.
The dress had become a reminder of the day people stared at him.
It was also a reminder of the promise he had kept.
Both things were true.
I wondered how often he would think about the chapel when he saw it.
I wondered whether he would remember the judgment first or the laughter.
I hoped the laughter would win eventually.
Daniel leaned forward.
"Your friend would have been proud of you."
Theo shook his head.
"He would've made fun of me."
"Probably."
"Especially the shoes."
Daniel laughed.
"Then he'd have been proud of you while making fun of you."
Theo smiled.
"That sounds right."
We talked for another hour.
Not about anything important.
We talked about school, about a film Theo had watched, and about how Jack had once tried to convince both of us that a terrible horror movie deserved an award.
The conversation wandered in the way it used to.
At one point, Theo mentioned that Jack had kept a list of movies he wanted them to watch together.
I asked where the list was.
Theo wasn't sure.
"Maybe in his room."
I looked toward the hallway.
Jack's bedroom had remained mostly untouched.
We had opened the curtains and collected a few things, but I hadn't been able to decide what to do with the rest.
His books were still on the shelf.
His laundry basket stood near the wall.
There were notes on the desk and a charger beside the bed.
Nothing in the room looked as though it belonged to someone who would never return.
I asked Theo whether he wanted to look for the list.
He hesitated.
Then he nodded.
We went upstairs together.
The room smelled faintly of the detergent we used for Jack's clothes.
I had changed the sheets after he came home for the last time, but the blanket still lay folded at the foot of the bed.
Theo stood in the doorway.
He didn't step inside immediately.
I waited.
After a moment, he walked toward the desk.
He searched through a small stack of papers, lifting each one carefully.
There were school assignments.
A few reminders.
A note about an appointment.
Then he found a scrap of paper with several movie titles written across it.
His face softened.
"This is it."
I took the paper from him.
Some of the titles were familiar.
Others meant nothing to me.
At the bottom, Jack had added a question mark beside one film and written, "Theo says this is good. He is probably wrong."
I laughed.
Theo pointed at the note.
"See? He never trusted my taste."
I folded the paper and handed it back to him.
"Keep it."
He looked uncertain.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
He slipped it into his pocket.
We stood in the room for a while longer.
Then Theo sat on the edge of the bed.
I sat beside him.
He looked at the blank wall opposite the desk.
"I keep thinking about the things we were supposed to do."
I nodded.
"He talked about college all the time."
"Yeah."
"And traveling."
Theo gave a small smile.
"He wanted to go somewhere where nobody knew him, then complain that the food was terrible."
I laughed through my tears.
"That sounds like him."
Theo rubbed his eyes.
"I knew he might not get better."
He said it quietly, without looking at me.
"But I still thought we'd have more time."
I put an arm around him.
"So did I."
There was no comforting answer.
We had both known there was uncertainty.
Knowing something was possible did not make it easier when it happened.
Theo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"I don't think I understood how much of my life involved him until he wasn't here."
I thought about the holidays when he had stayed with us.
The school mornings when he had arrived early.
The evenings when he and Jack argued over movies in the living room.
Theo had grown up with my son.
Jack had grown up with Theo.
Their lives had become so connected that neither boy would have known how to describe all the ways the other mattered.
"You don't have to stop being part of this family," I told him.
Theo looked at me.
"I know."
"Do you?"
He nodded slowly.
"I think so."
I held his hand.
"You were part of our lives long before Jack got sick."
His eyes filled.
"And you still are."
He lowered his head.
I let him cry.
After a while, he stood and looked around the room once more.
Then he tucked the movie list into his pocket and walked toward the door.
At the top of the stairs, he turned back.
"Thank you."
I shook my head.
"You don't need to thank us."
He gave me a small smile.
"I know."
But he said it anyway.
When he left that afternoon, I returned to the kitchen.
The blue mug was still beside the sink.
I picked it up and washed it.
Then I dried it carefully and put it back in the cupboard.
It was a small thing.
It didn't make the house feel normal again.
But I had begun to understand that moving forward would probably happen through small things.
One meal.
One conversation.
One memory we could bear to hear.
One promise kept.
And sometimes, one ordinary object that no longer seemed ordinary at all.
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: Months After the Funeral, Jack’s Jokes Still Found Their Way Into Our Home When We Least Expected Them
I Thought My Son’s Best Friend Had Chosen the Worst Possible Day to Make Himself the Center of Attention
Part 6 of 12
