I'm trying to move on!

''So I am told.''

I glance over my shoulder one last time as I push open the revolving doors. I see into her features, the deliciously slanted, narrow hips. I still had no idea of the crisp cut of her abs, the hard chest and intricate tattoos and finally her face, her beautiful face. His full lips are half smiling, half pouting and his eyes are glued to me, watching me walk away.

I get straight into Olivia's shiny silver sports car and she drives us out of the hotel. She doesn't say much for the first half of the drive. I know she's hurting too and I don't push it. Olivia adored my dad and he adored her, even my mom adored Olivia even though Olivia swears mom is not a big fan of hers.

''So you want me to take you to your parents' house?''

Olivia asks me. Her voice trembles and she swallows saliva.

''Yes, that's where mom will be.''

I can't wait to get home, but I don't know what she'll be like when I get there. Jake's dad's death sent his mom off the rails? Would that happen to my mom? How would she handle that? The thought makes me shudder. I never really gave Jake props for taking care of his mom for so long. It must be painful...to see someone you love so much that you no longer care about. I close my eyes. Dear God, please let my mom be okay. Please give her the strength to get through this. I'm not one to pray, I don't think I ever have, but I'm desperate. I can't bear for my mom to go off the rails.

Not tonight.

I take a few deep breaths as we park in front of my parents' house. Looking at it hurts. I look at Olivia and she's looking at him too.

''Should I go see Genna?''

I nod despite the feelings telling me to give mom space.

''Yes, go inside and if she's too upset, you can leave.''

I look around the house again. I can see the glow of light from the living room through the slits in the curtain. She's definitely home. When we get out of the car, I clutch my lower lip between my teeth. Los Angeles already feels like it has changed. Olivia and I walk noisily across the pebbles, even a noise as simple as that screams home. I draw air from my cheeks. I need to pull myself together. On the other side of that wooden door, Mom might need me and I need to be strong for her. I knock on the door, giving myself a moment to regain my composure, if necessary. Surprisingly, the door opens quickly and I see Mom's smiling face. She wipes her hands on her rose print apron.

''Oh honey, you're home early. Hello Olivia. Please come in.''

She takes a step to the side, but Olivia and I don't move. I look at her closely. She hardly seems affected by her husband's death.

''Mom?''

She tucks a loose curl behind her ear.

''Don't stand out there, come in. I've made cake, are you hungry?''

What the hell is going on? I realize my hands are clenched in balls at my sides. I don't know whether to be surprised, angry or worried.

''I should just go.''

Olivia murmurs, pinching my arm.

''I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Williams.''

Mom's smile almost falters, but she manages to nod and thank her. Mom leads me into the house and closes the door behind me. Smells, different delicious smells envelop me and I inhale. Mom disappears into the kitchen and I stare at her.

''I'm going to set the table.''

She screams.

I force my legs into the kitchen, my gaze settling on the picture frames filled with loving family memories. There's one photo that catches my eye. It's my dad outside his gym with the 'SOLD' sign. His face is so vibrant, so alive. I loosen my hands and shakily reach for him. Before I can touch him, I pull my hand away as my chest tightens unbearably and I bite my tongue to keep from sobbing. I will never see his face again. I will never hug him or kiss him...he's really gone. I lift up my shirt to dry my eyes. I need to be strong for mom, something is definitely wrong here. I walk into the kitchen.

''Mom...''

I'm looking at the kitchen benches full of golden cakes and pies of all kinds. Mom pulls a roast chicken out of the oven, surrounded by crispy roasted vegetables. My hand reaches up to cover my mouth. She is out of control. She's been cooking nonstop, all my dad's favorite foods.

''Are you hungry?''

She smiles at me, but then I look at her. Her face is tense, she's trying her hardest not to break down and I'm not sure if she's doing it for me, for her or for Dad. It's the saddest thing I've ever seen and I have no idea what to do.

''Mom.''

I say again. I hate that it's the only thing I manage to get out of my mouth.

She looks at me, her bottom lip quivering. She shakes her head and carries the hot tray toward the empty dining room table. She manages to burn her finger before she gets there, dropping the roasted chicken and vegetables on the floor. Mom's hands shoot out to cover her mouth and I reach for her, but she flinches, ripping out another piece of my heart.

''I'm fine.''

She breathes swallowing her sadness.

''Talk to me.''

I say to her.

''Please say something.''

She leans on the bench and pushes two cakes to the floor. They break the tiles, sending purple and red colors everywhere, filling the room with a delicious fruity smell. She is shaking uncontrollably, but refuses to acknowledge it. We'll have to have apple pie for dinner. I hope that's okay.

He pulls a knife out of the top drawer and cuts the pie.

''I don't want pie.''

My voice is stern and I don't want to upset her, but she's scaring me.

''Well, what do you want?''

''I want you to talk to me.''

She slams the knife into the sink and I jump a little.

''What do you want me to say, Sandra, I'm trying to move on!''

The hole in my chest deepens.

''This is your idea of moving on? Cooking all of Dad's favorite foods?''

He keeps his eyes on the sink.

''You don't have to move on, not yet. He died a few hours ago...a few hours, Mom. You need to cry, you need to feel...''

She snaps.

''You want me to feel, you want me to break?''

Mom grabs the apple pie and throws it on the floor. She stomps on it hard as she grabs a tray of pumpkin pies. She throws the ceramic platter against the cabinet and it shatters. I shudder, unable to hold back tears. I watch her completely destroy everything in the kitchen, including herself, and I can do nothing.

Food and glass splatter and bounce off my skin as she screams, spitting and crying all over the place. I've never seen anything so heartbreaking in my life. She slides down the cabinet, crying so hard her face turns red. Her mouth is open, her eyes shut tight, and lines of saliva are dribbling down her face. She pulls her legs up to her chest and rests her head on them. I push through the glass and the food just to get to her. I need to hold her, let her know I'm here for her. I pull her to me and she cries on my shoulder. I have never felt so helpless as I do at this moment. I can't help my mom, I can't even help myself.

''It's okay.''

I cry, stroking her hair.

''We're going to be fine.''

Technically, I lied. I have no idea if we'll be okay. I have no idea what tomorrow will be like or if this is ever going to get easier, but I knew now that even though this family has lost an important member, we are still a family and that won't change. The process will be long and painful, but I know we will get through it. That's what families do, isn't it? They help each other through difficult times.