I stayed to chat with Liza's mom for a while. "I'm a busy woman," she said as she brewed a fresh teapot. I took the hot cup she handed me and blew at its steamy surface. "All these kids cost an arm and a leg, and I'm a single mother to top it off. Exhausting."
"I understand," I replied, taking a calm sip. Mrs. Howe insisted I stay and wait for Liza rather than try to find the farm she worked at. Seeing as it was the starless daytime and two of Liza's younger teen sisters, Teresa and Peony, were playing with my dogs in the lamplit living room, I didn't want to disturb the fun. My huskies howled a sweet song, and my dachshund Brownie's butt wiggled with her wagging tail.
"Have you heard anything about your mother?"
"Nothing recently," I answered, feeling a pang in my chest at the mention of my absentee parent. "I think she's not an option ... and now my dad isn't either."
"You don't need parents to survive, Kev. You're an intelligent young man."
I shook my head, releasing a short laugh. "No, no, I've never been intelligent."
Taking a seat across from me, Mrs. Howe smiled. "Stay here as long as you like. But I'm being honest when I say you're intelligent. You're a survivor, Kev. You're not like Liza."
One of my eyebrows shot up involuntarily. "How is Liza not a survivor?"
Liza's mother glanced at her daughters in the next room over. Her happy expression fell to one of discouragement and worry. "Liza's tough, that's for sure, but I'm afraid she might sacrifice herself thinking she can save someone, like another farmer or a friend." Her gaze landed on me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I wasn't as welcomed by her as she tried to make it seem. "She keeps things from me, and her siblings won't say whether I'm right or not about what she hides. Those secrets get under my skin."
Uncomfortable at this shift in our conversation, I tried to steer things back to the practical. "Uh, if I'm staying here for a while, I can help out with the kids."
"Have you ever babysat?"
"I haven't, but they're all older than twelve." I shrugged. The look of doubt she sent me made me second-guess my ability to watch over younger teenagers, so I said, "I can also help in the yard. I have a green thumb. And I can clean around the house or cook ..."
The front door opened down the short entrance hallway, and Liza walked in looking perfectly normal aside from a pair of blue overalls and a green long-sleeved sweater. I smiled at my friend, and when she saw me and heard my dogs play-growling and howling with her giggly sisters, her face brightened too.
"Kev, you're okay."
Mrs. Howe squinted at her eldest daughter in confusion.
Realizing "you're okay" had bypassed the usual greeting of "hello" or "hi," Liza corrected herself. "Hi, Kev! What are you doing here?" She walked into the dining room and glanced at my dogs and her distracted sisters before sitting beside me at the table. Liza's dark eyes took on a glittery quality that I wasn't expecting; I thought my presence would trouble her more. "I'm glad to see you."
"Likewise," I said.
"Why are you here?" She asked again, although I heard little urgency in her voice.
When I worked up an answer, my chest felt heavy, and I had to take a few deep breaths. "There's no getting around the news, I guess. My dad died early this morning ... or very late at night if you consider before 4 AM to be the nighttime." I attempted to look okay, to sound at ease with his passing and my current orphaned state, but I don't think I was doing a great job at it.
The delight in Liza's eyes vanished, and she swiftly moved to comfort me, her soft hand resting gently on my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "I'm sorry, Kev. That's terrible."
"Well, you know ..." I took a deep breath, leaning into her touch. "He had cancer for a long time, and it wasn't getting any better since he wasn't seeking much treatment."
Her frown melted into my eyes. I swear, the empathy she was capable of far surpassed anything I had encountered from another human being. I didn't consider myself apathetic, but I still had to metaphorically tip my hat to her compassion. "Is he still at the house?"
I nodded.
A deep sigh left her. "We should notify the county if you haven't already. They'll take care of burying him."
I hadn't contacted anyone outside Liza's family, so the offer of "we," that "we" would do this miserable task together and I wouldn't have to go alone, made me feel more okay with the situation than anything else have.
"You're right. I didn't contact them yet. Can we take your mom's car?"
Mrs. Howe gave her daughter and me a curious look, then she said with a dramatic flip of her wrist, "Go ahead, kids. Go, take my car. Drive safely."
Liza and I thanked her mother, and Liza fetched the car keys from off the hook near the front door. "You can trust my sisters with your dogs," Liza said when I went to go pet their heads goodbye. "Don't worry; they'll be fine. We're off, Kev."
"We're off," I repeated after her, following her out the entrance to her mom's van. I hopped up into the front passenger seat while Liza took the driver's side. We shut the doors, she started the engine, and away we went.