In the past few years, Lucas spent more time with her than I did. He’d been taking care of her since my father died. My parents were together for thirty-eight years, and she had relied on my dad for everything. He’d always taken care of her, and she was lost without him. I expected it to get easier for her over time, but it didn’t. It’d been five years since he died, but my mother struggled to make it through each day. I used to think it was sweet that Lucas was there for her like he was—shoveling her snow in the winter, mowing her lawn in the summer, fixing things around the house, managing
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weirdo behavior
