WARNING: Mentions of death and grief described.

Theo is ten. Ollie is eight. Max is five.

Immovable

You never expect that call. You never know when you're picking up the phone to hear those ugly words be whispered into your ears.

She was fine.

The kids and I had just visited her a couple of days ago.

She was fine.

What was it that Sara said, 'hypertension'? She was healthy, but that's the thing with death, you never knew when it will come for you or at what moment or how. You just know that it will.

I had gone into survival mode the past week and a half when I'd heard the news. It had been nonstop from that point forward. My mother always made it clear that she wanted to be cremated. When my father had passed, she had buried him at the cemetery in his childhood neighborhood. He wanted to always be part of New York. My mother, in the other hand, wanted nothing of the sorts.

Expensive; was the word that continuously ran through my mind. Everything was just so expensive, but I had to do this. These were her final hours on Earth before being reduced to ashes. I needed to make this right for her. I couldn't count on Sara; she'd been a nervous, emotional wreck. All she did was cry, and when she wasn't crying, she was pining over the passing as if she could find a wrinkle in time to go back and prevent it.

Our extended family was advised. My grandmother, aunts, uncles, and cousins had flown in from the island. Others had driven down from New Jersey and Philadelphia. Friends of my mother had come by to pay their respects, Trevor's family as well. My children, though young and confused, could understand slightly what was going on. My youngest being five and my oldest ten; clung to their father whilst I dominated everything else.

I was tired.

Death was tiring.

"My condolences, Noa."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Noa."

"How are you holding up?"

Were some of the phrases I kept hearing throughout this entire process. My answers simply being a short, 'I'm fine' or a mindless, 'Thank you.' What else was I supposed to say?

No one had seen me cry, not even Trevor. I hadn't shed a tear for my mother, and people were noticing. My sister sat in her chair towards the front of the chapel with her long-time beau, her head on his shoulder, as he cradled her against him. He would shake the family's hands when Sara couldn't raise her head to acknowledge the guests that had gathered.

They would say things like, 'Your sister is taking this pretty hard, huh?' but to me they would say, 'You look so tired.' Well, as the oldest, this was my responsibility. I hadn't even had the chance to be with my children, but there came a moment where I could escape: when everyone would be inside for the ceremony, I'd be outside.

I clutched my paper coffee cup in my hands. Funeral homes weren't known for their coffee, but it would do when I heard a door open and then close. Maybe it's someone from the other chapel. I felt little hands in mine, and I looked up, startled. It was my youngest, Maximus, smiling at me. I opened my arms to him, turning to place the coffee cup on the floor besides my foot. I sat him on my lap, resting his head against my chest. Then came my other son, Oliver, and I opened my arm for him. He placed his head on my shoulder and wrapped an arm around my back. Finally, I felt Theodora's long curls against my arm. She was resting her head on my shoulder, her arm intertwined with mine as she fidgeted with my white gold bracelet—a gift from Trevor on our first anniversary. And, right in front of me stood the man whom I'd married, hands in his pockets, and a sorrowful expression.

"What are you all doing out here, huh?" I said, clearing my throat of any hoarseness. "Shouldn't you guys be inside?"

I rubbed my arm down Ollie's shoulder, kissed Max's head, and turned my head to kiss Theo's curls. "Shouldn't you?" asked my daughter, turning to place her chin on my shoulder.

I smiled, shaking my head, "I just needed some quiet, Theo. Do—Do you want me to go back in there with you?"

She shook her head. "We'll stay out here with you, Mami," she finished, pressing her temple against my shoulder once more.

I sighed and looked up at Trevor, "Let us be here for you, Noa. We want—"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," I said quickly, interrupting Trevor's reverie. "Sit here with us. I'm fine."

Trevor sighed and sat next to Theo, leaning over her to reach my temple, where he planted a kiss. We sat there for what seemed like an eternity, but then again, time had been moving differently for me. Everything both seemed too slow or way too fast, and today was going to be one of those days where everything seemed to be too slow. After the service, one by one filed out to the common room of the funeral home, yet I stayed sat with my children, not really reacting to any of my surroundings.

People would approach us, but I couldn't hear anything they were saying. I focused all my energy on the things I could feel; like Max's breathing against my chest, Ollie's pulse against my fingertips, and Theo's fingers caressing the skin on my arm as she twirled my bracelet around. Those were the things that tethered me to this moment… My children needed me, and I was a mother first and foremost.

"Noa," I heard Trevor's call for me, and I turned my head, capturing his steely blue gaze. "Baby, it's time."

I nodded and felt my heart launch itself into a gallop. It was time for the final goodbye. Only my grandmother, my sister, my aunts, and I were allowed in the chapel where they were keeping my mother. Now was the time for any final goodbyes, that ultimate moment where my eyes would see the form of my mother one last time before she'd turn to ash. My fingertips suddenly were numb, and I flexed my hands, attempting to rid myself of the weird sensation, to no avail.

Theo lifted her head from my shoulder and I waited for the boys to move, but they were fast asleep against my body. Jesus, what time is it? How long have we been sitting here?

I turned to Trevor. "Trev," he immediately turned his head from the conversation he was having with Tommy and Gigi. "They're asleep." He offered a thin-lipped smile and stood, detaching Maximus from my chest. I immediately felt cold and I shivered. I turned my head and placed my lips to Ollie's forehead, running my fingers through his wavy hair, and speaking against his skin, "Mi amor, time to wake up."

I kissed him once more, and he stirred, burying his head into my side. I smiled and raked my fingernails through his scalp, attempting to ease him out of his slumber. "Come on bud, let your mother get up," Tommy ushered.

Oliver moved, and I smiled at him, placing a kiss to his cheek. I stood and disappeared to the chapel, not bothering to look back. Upon entering, I could hear Sara's sniffles, my grandmother's silent sobs, and my aunts' silent comforting. I approached the front to where the other women stood, avoiding contact with the coffin where my mother lain. My sister wrapped her arms around me, breaking into sobs almost immediately.

We stood there until the mortician came in to ask a few questions. My mother's ashes were to be divided equally for Sara and my grandmother to keep. It's what made sense, and it's what she would've wanted: to be home with her mother, and be kept by her daughter. I was fine with not having her remains placed in my home. It wouldn't have felt right, and in the eight years that Trevor and I had been married and living in Jersey City, she hadn't been to my home much. It didn't seem fair to keep her in a foreign place.

We all exited the chapel, holding each other up, but I was ready to head home, and so were my children. We had been there all day long, and my eyeballs were itching to have their contacts removed. I let go of Sara once Fabian—her beau—approached her. I continued walking, barely aware of anything. I was exhausted.

It was done.

My mother could finally rest in peace.

I exited the funeral home, going down the steps to reach the sidewalk, and continued my path to the across the street parking lot. I was walking without purpose, lost in all the feelings I harbored. I was numb to my surroundings, disoriented almost, so much so that the brusque pull and tug I received by whomever had wrapped their arm around my waist, jarred me into the now, but still left a taste of confusion within me.

"Noa, baby," his hands were at either side of my face, pushing strands of hair away. "Noa, answer me."

I blinked twice, blinking into focus Trevor's concerned face. "Trev," I heaved. "What—What's going on? What happened?"

"Jesus, woman," he whispered, pulling me into his chest.

I inhaled his familiar scent and closed my eyes, giving in to his embrace, "I want to go home."

He kissed my ear, "Ok, let's go."

"The—The kids?"

"Mom and Dad are taking them for a couple of days, just to give you some time to adjust," he answered, holding my waist.

"No—No, no," I shook my head, taking a step back. "I need my kids with me."

Trevor sighed and closed his eyes, "Ok, ok, baby. I'll get the kids if you wait for me here."

I nodded and watched as he re-entered the funeral home. When did I exit? Why—Why am I between cars? Trevor was brief, and in his arms he carried a sleeping Maximus. Theo and Ollie were at either side of him and he quickly made his way to me. We crossed the street and into his Escalade, making our journey to our home.

Once inside, the kids scrambled to their rooms. Trevor had given them a set of instructions once we were a couple of minutes away from our home. He climbed the steps to take Max to his room, and was able to change his clothes whilst I disappeared into the kitchen. I found an uncut cantaloupe, and I grabbed a knife, easing it easily into the core.

I cut absentmindedly, like my fingers and hands knew what they were doing without necessarily having my brain as a guide. I looked through the cabinets to find a big enough Tupperware to place the diced pieces, and as I put some away, I continued chopping. I heard shoes against the classy stoned flooring of the kitchen area, and I turned, looking over my shoulder to see Trevor.

"Theo's game tomorrow got cancelled. Apparently the park is still disgustingly wet. Also, Ollie needs help with his Social Studies homework, and I'm going to need to find those blocks we used for when Theo and Oliver were starting out with math. Max—"

"Stop!" Trevor said sternly.

I turned, "A—Am I going too fast, baby? Should—Should I help Ollie with his homework?"

He approached me in three quick steps, taking my face in his hands, "Stop Noa, just stop." I searched his face, concern etched between his brows as he slowly spoke to me, "All of that can wait, just stop. You just left your mother to be cremated…"

I shook my head and gave my back to him, "No, no, if I stop, it settles, and the kids need me."

"Exactly," he said, looping his arms around me to place his hand on the wrist that held the knife. "They need their mother, but what good would that be if their mother is a shell going through the motions without any emotion attached to her, huh? You crossed the street tonight and almost got run over, baby."

"Trevor," I complained, feeling his fingers pry at my hand, effectively making me drop the knife.

"Just let go, baby. I'm here for you," he continued soothingly.

"No, Trev, please," I begged, feeling my resolve crumble and give.

"Noa, stop."

"I—I—"

"Just, stop," and I felt the dam break.

All of the emotions of the past two weeks bubbled and collided, producing the most wracking sound. Trevor's arms were firm around my waist, and I cried mercilessly, my body doubling over. He turned me into his chest, holding me tightly against him, "That's it, baby. Just, let it all go."

I heaved and buried my face into his chest, feeling his lips lingering against my forehead. Did I really think I could go all that time without Trevor's hold, without his comforting love? He was my shelter, the one person I could turn to when my day was slowly caving in. I had always sought his comfort. What made me think that this would be different?

"You don't have to be strong on your own, Noa," he soothed. "Let me be strong when you need me. Let me be there for you. Don't shut me out. It hurts me more to see you closed off and going through the motions by yourself than it does when you're like this, baby. You don't have to hurt by yourself. I'm here with you. Let me help."

I coughed with my cries, heaving in an attempt to reel in my emotions, "She—She's dead. She's dead, and I couldn't even look at the coffin. I couldn't be in the service… What does that say about me, Trev? Am—Am I a horrible daughter for that?"

He held me tight, running his hands through my hair, "No, sweetheart. You are and will always be an amazing daughter. You put the needs of everyone else before yours, because this wasn't about you, Noa. We all grieve differently, and you my love, grieved by shutting everyone out. You don't have to mourn in order to grieve."

I sniffled, "But, when Papi died—"

"It was different. You could mourn because your father had everything prepared for his death. It was expected, in some way. This was sprung on you, and your sister in her grief wasn't much help," he pushed his body against mine, walking me back to have me pinned between the kitchen island and his body. "I'm sorry, Noa. I'm so sorry, honey." He kissed my sodden cheeks tenderly, running his thumbs against my cheek, "Come on, let's clean up here and head to bed."

I nodded, sniffling, but not making any effort to release Trevor's body. He chuckled softly, running his hands down my back until I released my hands, freeing him of my hold. He moved effortlessly through the kitchen, putting away everything I had taken out. He stole a couple of pieces of the melon and commented on its sweetness.

He guided me upstairs and down the hall to our bedroom where he unzipped the back of my cap sleeve black dress. It'd been a long, tiring, and trying day. He unclasped my bra, placing a kiss to my shoulder blade, as I moved my hands to remove my contact lenses. I disposed of them in our bedside trashcan, and I felt his hold tighten around my midsection.

"Get in, I'll be just a minute," he cooed softly.

I nodded and climbed onto our enormous bed, feeling the coolness of our sheets around me. I thanked God for not having worn makeup that day. I thought that maybe seeing my mother lain in her coffin, seeing family members mourn the loss of her, would bring forth tears, but nothing came. I felt nothing.

I wasn't numb, I just had no feelings. Usually, when one cried was when you felt life had cheated you of time with a loved one, but I felt as if I'd run my course with my mother. Our relationship may not have been the best in my youth or early adulthood, but after my wedding, she had come around. I would see her often, as well as my children. She was there the day of the birth of Oliver and Maximus. She was there for every birthday, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and though we would disagree on parenting styles, she knew better than to fight me on decisions I took with my children.

I didn't hate her; it just hurt how she'd treated me for the most part. "Get out of your head," Trevor whispered in my ear, causing me to startle against him.

He had an arm wrapped around me. When had he gotten into bed? "You scared me," I awarded breathlessly, sniffling.

"I tried to call out for you, but you weren't with me just now, were you?" I shook my head, moving his arm to press against my chest. I hugged his forearm, pressing a kiss to his wrist, "Do you have a happy memory of your mom?"

I pondered and nodded with a smile. "I'd just won my first Golden Glove in sophomore year. When I told Papi, he went berserk. When Mami asked about it, she sounded very… nonchalant. As if that award was given out just because," I giggled. "A couple of weeks later, I went home to visit because I was missing Mami's cooking, so I stayed the night. When I woke up, she had company over, but she always did so I was as stealthy as possible. I caught her bragging about me; that I had won a prestigious award at college level and I was only a sophomore. Imagine what type of awards I would win once I'd reached my senior year."

Trevor chuckled and scooted closer, draping his leg over mine, "She was proud of you, Noa. And she'll continue to be proud of you for many years to come."

I whimpered, attempting to hide my face against his arm, "I hope so, papa. I hope so."

Trevor kissed my shoulder, trailing his kisses up my neck, where he nibbled gently. I shuddered, sinking into his touch, "I love you, Noa."

"And, I you," I responded silently. "Promise you won't let go."

He tightened his hold on me, possessively trapping my leg in his, "Never."

I sighed, reveling in how our bodies felt and fit together.

Here it was, a promise that tomorrow would be ok, and that I could always find purchase, love, and comfort in Trevor's arms.