--- Saturday ---

Mrs. Kono

“Honey, do you mind helping me keep an eye on the turkey? I need some rest.” I call out to my husband, who’s chopping up potatoes for what I assume is for some mashed potatoes. He’s been hard at work making side dishes all day. 

He raises a thumbs up at me as I make my way out the kitchen.

I trudge my body over to the living room, sinking into the couch, letting the sounds of clanking metal and chopping on wood fade into the background, as I start staring into space, listening to the hum of the living room lights…

This work is exhausting, but it helps distract from the mixed feelings I have about…so many things. 

A lot really has happened in these last few months, huh?

Ever since Kit’s death, we’ve been spending a lot of our time trying to rebuild our relationship. Not that it was particularly bad or anything, just that we’d spent so much time apart from each other that we’ve just been steadily…drifting apart. He’s been out at work until odd hours of the morning, while I’ve been at home taking care of the house. We rarely ever got to spend time with each other.

That’s starting to change. 

Most days my husband still works late, but he’s started taking more and more off-days. His boss doesn’t seem particularly pleased about it—I overheard a phone call of him pleading with whoever was on the other end to “give him some time” as he “tries to figure things out”. I couldn’t make out exactly what the person on the other end was saying, though it sounded harsh.

I still remember the first time I woke up to see my husband still in bed. I immediately jumped out, putting my hand against his forehead, before running to get a cold towel. When I made it back to the room he was already awake, and as his eyes caught me with the cold towel in my hand, he immediately burst out laughing. “Honey, I’m fine. I thought I’d just…take the day off.” Before I could even say anything in response he pulled me into a kiss. 

We’ve started eating out again. Nothing fancy, just a lot of mom-and-pop shops, but it makes us happy. Even though we’re probably too old to call it a “date”, that’s what it feels like to me. After just a few months of this I’m starting to feel closer to him than I have in quite a long time.

***

For our first of many nights out, we chose a Japanese ramen place. We thought it’d be a nice homage to where we’d first met. 

I take a sip of the hojicha on my table, floating a seemingly innocuous question to my husband. “Do you…ever find yourself still thinking of him?”

My husband slurps at his ramen. “I do. And every day I regret that I wasn’t there for him. I was so busy at work that…I’d missed out on watching him grow. I feel bad that I wasn’t there to look out for him, to protect him. And I’m sorry you had to bear all that yourself.” His hand inches forward to meet mine. “What about you?”

“I…I dunno. It still feels weird doing this, having a good time and all. I still keep thinking about him. For some reason, there’s a part of me that keeps thinking that this is wrong, that I shouldn’t be having fun, enjoying myself like this…”

My voice falls silent. I guess I must’ve been crying, because my husband reaches out with a napkin and gently strokes my cheek, soaking up liquid as he goes.

“If there’s one thing I know, it’s that he’d want us to be happy.” He squeezes my hand gently. “You’ve been working just as hard as I have all these years. There’s nothing wrong with taking care of yourself every once in a while.” He downs what’s left of his tea in one fell swoop, before slamming the small empty glass back onto the table. “Tell me, would Kit be happy to know you’re still thinking of him, to the point where you shut yourself out from the world because of him?”

“I…I suppose not.”

***

I don’t know how long I’m spaced out for, but I’m woken up by the shrill of a ringing doorbell, as my husband, who’s busy mashing potatoes into a pulp, screams into the living room, “Honey, can you help me get the door?”

I take a moment to rub my eyes and readjust myself, before slowly getting up and dazedly trudging my heavy bones over to the door. 

On the other side of the door is Jax, who’s wearing a button-up shirt for the occasion. “Good evening, Mrs. Kono. I brought a friend over.” He nudges another person to his right, a little shorter than him, by the shoulder. The boy beside him is wearing a green hoodie that’s seemingly faded from the passage of time, and his hair is slightly frizzled. His hands are clasped together, as he looks at me, casting a weak smile.

He turns toward Jax for a moment, who gives him that same half-smile I’ve seen a lot from him, before turning back to me, waving a hand at me. His voice is a little soft, though mostly steady. “Hi, Mrs Kono.”

Even though it’s been a matter of months since I’d last seen him, my mind immediately registers him. “Is that you, Ray?”

***

“So, Jax, I’m hosting a Thanksgiving dinner this Saturday. Do you want to come?”

I’m still not sure why my heart is set on doing this. Maybe it’s because when I’m alone at home there’s a lot of silence in the air that feels stifling and that I’d do well to cut through. Maybe it’s because the simple affair of eating at the dinner table feels so much more suffocating without all the noise to silence the deafening quiet.

It’s all the more unsettling to be reminded that it wasn’t always this way, that it was never supposed to turn out like this. Sometimes I look over at the dinner table, and I can still picture Kit and I sitting there, just the two of us, and Kit would ramble on about his school life, or about a game he’s been playing with Ray, or sometimes about a new space shuttle or some other aerospace news. That’s all gone now. 

I want it back.

Jax mulls over it for quite a long while. 

He’s been visiting me quite a bit these past few months, mostly to check up on me. Even though his visits are random and usually pretty short, it still helps distract from the enduring sense of disquiet that lingers. It fills the air with that chatter and buzz that I’ve been missing. With him around, the house feels just a little more lived in, a little less empty…

How does he even have the time for this anyway?

Eventually, he nods. “Sure. On condition that I get to bring someone else with me. I’m not saying who it is.” His disposition remains expressionless, but the way he says is…oddly sly. 

I know him well enough to know that once he’s got an idea in his head there isn’t much I can do to stop him. I give him a slightly wary “I trust your judgement” look, which I hope he knows what to do with.

***

“Yeah.” He replies, nodding reservedly. He’s just as meek as I remember him. 

I extend my eyes towards him, leaving enough space for him. “Get in here, Ray.” Luckily, he still remembers what that means. He runs right into my arms, putting his arms around me in return, as I start patting him on the back. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay…” I catch a glance at his face as he squeezes at my torso. He looks like he’s on the verge of tears. So even though my body feels constricted, I say nothing about it. Let him have as long as he needs. I say he’s earned it.

He leans onto my shoulder, his head limp, before he speaks into my ear, in a hushed voice. “I”m sorry. About Kit.”

I turn toward him in confusion. “What do you mean…?”

“I know how much he meant to you. And…as his friend…I feel so shitty about all of it. I was supposed to protect him. And…I failed. So, so badly…” The colour in his voice fades, as he looks close to tears. He stops saying anything, continuing to lean onto me, as I continue patting him on the back.

After a while of this, I peel him gently from my body, kneeling down to meet him in the eye. “Ray, listen to me. It’s not your fault.” As I say that, my eyes start tearing, too. I rapidly blink my eyelids to keep the tears from leaving my eyes, without much success. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard this a lot, but no one could have seen it coming. No one wakes up every day wondering what it’d mean for them if that day were their last. And most certainly no one could have prevented it. Especially not you, Ray.

“It certainly doesn’t make me happy to see you still caught up over him, in any kind of way. All you can do now is to be strong. Not just for Kit…but for yourself.”

Jax stands beside him, his presence a force for comfort in this instant, as it has been these past few months.

…

Eventually, Ray releases his grip on me. “Thanks, Mrs. Kono.”

I walk into the kitchen, before gesturing over to the two of them eagerly eyeing the food lining the kitchen table, almost like hungry mice. “Come on in, you two. Why don’t we talk some more over the kitchen table?” The two of them do as I say, shuffling over like they’ve done it a hundred times before.

As the two of them enter the kitchen and take their seats, their eyes are riveted on my husband, at the other end of the kitchen, removing the turkey from the oven, before holding it high up like a trophy and setting it in an empty spot right in the middle of the table.

Jax

As we help ourselves to the food on the kitchen table, I start to notice just how full of life this place has become. Everyone’s talking to each other, having fun, regardless of everything that’s led to this moment, everything they’ve all been through…

None of us look like it, but I can’t help but feel that we’ve all been changed, in one way or another, by the events of the last few months.

It doesn’t change that this was a painful memory that none of us would ever want to relive, or that this was very much a failure of policy that led to the untimely death of a child who loved and was loved. It doesn’t change the fact that we were the ones who had to suffer for it, or that sacrifices had to be made in the name of change. 

But, despite all this…there’s also a newfound hope in me. This inexplicable feeling that, maybe, everything will be okay. 

Despite everything, we’re still here. We still live to see a new day.