Chapter One
Zephyr
Life doesn’t come with an instruction manual.
That’s what my mom always says to us.
When things get hard.
When things don’t go our way.
When the unexpected happens.
It’s what she said to me today as she sat across from me at the breakfast table, her hands shaking, just a day before I’m heading off to college.
I could tell something was wrong from the moment that I walked into the kitchen.
Normally, a morning in our house is chaotic.
How could it not be with three teenage boys?
One of us is usually running late.
One of us is usually spilling something.
One of us is usually getting yelled at for drinking straight out of the milk carton.
But this morning, it was totally quiet. Sure, it was a Friday in the summer, but my brothers have football camp. They should have been awake.
But it was only Mom in the kitchen and she was anxiously drinking a cup of coffee, standing at the kitchen counter.
“Mom… what’s up?” I asked her, scared to know the answer.
I honestly thought someone had died.
Or at the very least, one of my brothers was in the hospital.
“Come sit down,” she told me, ushering me over to the breakfast table, and grabbing a cup of coffee for me, too.
I sat down next to her, bracing myself.
This was not like my mother.
She wasn’t dramatic.
She was calm and relaxed.
She was in control.
Up close, I could see that she had been crying. The last time I saw her cry was when my grandpa–her dad–died.
“What happened, Mom?” I asked her, grabbing her hand.
I’m the oldest, so I am the one who has to take it.
I have always been the man in the house. It’s been Mom and me, always. I set an example for my brothers. I’m the only male figure in their life, even if I’m only a few years older.
I take that job seriously.