The “Strawberry Juice” That Saved My Son Chapter 10

The “Strawberry Juice” That Saved My Son Chapter 10

Three years later.

Nothing in the house had changed.

Ethan resigned from his position as captain and transferred to logistics.

He went to work and came home on time every day.

He no longer smoked.

He no longer drank.

On the kitchen counter sat several worn cookbooks.

Oil stains dotted the edges of the pages.

He had learned to cook.

The food was not exactly good, but Noah finished every meal.

Noah was six years old now.

He had grown much taller.

His memories from before he turned three had grown blurry.

All he knew was that Mommy was in the sky, a very bright star.

That day was the anniversary of my death.

Ethan held Noah’s hand and came to the cemetery.

The headstone had been wiped clean.

In the photo, I was still twenty-seven forever.

Fresh strawberries were placed in front of the grave.

Beside them stood a whole row of strawberry milk cartons.

Ethan took a new family photo from his coat and wiped the dust from the frame with a clean cloth.

In the photo, six-year-old Noah wore a small school uniform and stood beside him.

“Joy, Noah started elementary school. He’s very good.”

Ethan crouched and placed the frame in the center of the headstone.

“I’ve been good too. I haven’t made you angry again.”

His voice was very low.

Noah pointed at the photo on the headstone.

“Daddy, Mommy is smiling.”

Ethan looked up at the frozen smile in my photo.

He reached out and traced my face on the cold stone with his fingertip.

“Yeah. She’s laughing at me for being stupid.”

He took the repaired old walkie-talkie from his pocket.

The casing still had cracks in it.

He held it to his ear and pressed the talk button.

Only static came through.

He listened for a long time.

It was as if that static was not static at all, but the breathing of another world.

Another spring came.

On the balcony at home, green shoots had pushed out of several flowerpots.

Tiny white flowers had bloomed.

Ethan and Noah crouched in front of the pots, carefully loosening the soil with small trowels.

“Daddy, when the strawberries are ripe, who gets the first one?” Noah asked, lifting his face.

Ethan kept working and answered without hesitation.

“Mommy.”

“What about the second one?”

“Mommy too.”

A breeze passed by.

The wind chime hanging by the window moved and gave a clear, bright ring, like a soft laugh.

Ethan stopped.

He lifted his head and looked at the cloudless sky.

He narrowed his eyes, as if he could see me above the clouds, wearing that white dress and smiling at him.

He looked at the sky.

Slowly, the hard line of his mouth softened.

Chapter 10

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For the first time in a very long time, he smiled.

“Joy, the strawberries are ripe.”

“Remember to come back and taste them.”