I lowered my head to hers. “I’m sorry, Annabelle. What can I do?”

She didn’t answer me. She simply looked off into the distance and kept her mouth shut. She wasn’t here with me. She was somewhere else. Remembering something, feeling something, and I wasn’t included. I stood with her in my arms and I set her in the passenger seat.

“Do you want me to take you home, or would you like to come back to my place?”

Again, silence.

I didn’t know what to do. A new side of Annabelle was emerging and this was one that I had no clue how to deal with. I wasn’t familiar with death. Even worse, I didn’t know how to handle death of a baby. Tentatively I buckled her in and came back to the driver’s side. I had no clue where I was going so I did the one thing that I felt was right. I drove her back to her house. It was a quiet drive. Nothing could be said. We were only just outside of the city and it was maybe twenty minutes, but when your head is full of unanswered questions and wondering why these things happened to good people, it made for an extraordinarily long ride. When I pulled into her driveway, I grabbed her keys from her purse and went to unlock the door. She wasn’t following behind me, so I went back to the Jeep and carried her inside. Her cat, Chaz, came running but didn’t meow like he normally did. Even he could tell his human wasn’t okay.

Setting her on her bed, I slipped her shoes off and asked her if she needed anything. There was no response. She lay down and faced the wall. I don’t think I’d ever felt so helpless in my life. Did I lay down beside her and cuddle her and let her feel me there with her? Did I leave her alone and check on her later? Did I go into the kitchen and make something for her and see if she would eat? What the in the hell was the right thing here? I chose the first option. Scooting in behind her, I wrapped my arm around her middle and pulled her back to my chest. I felt her breathe in deep and exhale. She still hadn’t shed a single tear, which I found more disturbing than her silence. I knew she was feeling broken from the news, but the way she loved Noah, there was bound to be a river of tears waiting to come crashing out of her, it was just a matter of time. She needed to cry. I brushed my thumb back and forth in a soothing fashion across her stomach, and I waited for something to hit me. I hoped sleep would claim her for at least a little bit. In the meantime, I would also wait for some guidance to what I needed to be doing.

Sleep did take her under after she shifted around restlessly for almost a half hour. I quieted her the best I could, and her cat jumped on the bed in front of her and purred in her face. I think he gave her more comfort than I was capable of giving her. When I felt her heavy breathing, I carefully moved out of the bed without disturbing her and did the next best thing I could think of. Stepping outside, I called my mom.

“Hey, baby, whatchu up too?” My mom’s southern drawl was always sugary sweet when she heard from her boys.

“Mom, something happened.”

I could hear her moving and shutting a door. “Sorry, I had some company over. What’s going on, Turner?”

“You remember that baby Annabelle told you about? The one she cared for?”

“Of course.”

“She got a call today that he died.”

Mom gasped. “Sweet Jesus, what happened? How is Annabelle doing?”

“Honestly, we don’t know many details, but he’s gone.” I swallowed hard. I, myself, was getting choked up. “She’s not doing well, Mom. She won’t speak and she hasn’t cried.”

It took her a moment to respond. “Okay, well we all grieve differently.”

“No, Mom, you don’t get it. She’s lost. I can see it in her eyes, she’s not there right now. As soon as I told her, everything shut off and she receded. I don’t know what to do.”

“Alright, baby, it’s okay. Tell me where are you at and I’ll come to y’all. She may need another female to confide in. It’s not you, but she’s a very guarded girl. I could tell from the start. I can see where this would make her shut down.”

Maybe she was right. Maybe Annabelle needed a woman to talk to. I might not be the source of comfort she was seeking.

I gave her the address and told her to come whenever she’d like, but that Annabelle was sleeping right now and probably needed it. She agreed and said she would be over in a couple hours. I figured that was plenty of time to get myself together and figure out what my girl needed.

Time was flying by, yet slowed every time I looked at the clock. Annabelle was still in bed. She’d woken once and I went in to ask her if she was hungry, and got her a glass of water with some aspirin. She declined all of it. Only two words had been uttered by her since we left the field, and I was now anxious for my mom to get here to see what she could do.

About that time, the doorbell rang. Annabelle looked over at me and I gave her a sympathetic look.

“I called my mom. I’m sorry if that makes you upset, but I think you need someone other than just me right now.”

She simply nodded.

Going to the door, I let my mom in and took her purse. “Where is she?”

“Down the hall, the last door on the left.”

Taking no time to ask me anything else, she headed off in the direction I told her. I followed behind her. Upon entering the room, Annabelle was still lying down but facing the door. Her expression appeared to be resolved. She knew she was going to be asked questions and it was like she had steeled herself for the onslaught. Except, that’s not what happened. My mom, in her typical fashion knew exactly what was needed. She took one look at Annabelle, and instead of the fifty questions I think both of us expected, she went to her and lifted her head and lay Annabelle’s head back down in her lap. I watched on as my mother gently stroked Annabelle’s hair and started to hum a soft lullaby I knew she sang to my brothers and me when we were younger and not feeling well.

She cracked.

Tears pooled in her eyes, and for the first time in hours, she released her emotions. My mom cooed to her and told her it would be okay. She simply let her have her feelings without forcing anything from her. It was then that I knew I made the right choice asking her to come over. Annabelle needed a mom. She needed the touch of a mother to make her feel like her world would be okay even though she was hurting.

“I named him. Turner was the only one I told.” Her voice was hoarse from sleep, and not speaking.

“You did? Well, I’m sure it was a special one,” my mom replied.

“Noah. It was my dad’s middle name.”

I didn’t know that. She never shared that bit of information with me.

“Noah is a good and strong name. Sounds like he was a fighter.”

A fresh wave of tears and sobs wracked her body. “He was, except now he’s gone.”

“I don’t know what your religion is, honey, but I am a firm believer that God has a plan for all of us. When it’s our time to be called back to his side, it’s because we are needed elsewhere, and to teach those of us who still remain how to live differently. Noah had his purpose. What the purpose was . . . well, that’s up to you to search for that answer.”

I could tell she was pondering this thought. I didn’t think Annabelle was a very religious person, but in some way shape or form, we all had our beliefs. If my mom’s words were giving her comfort, then by God, I hope she kept talking. I didn’t want to continue to intrude on their moment of quietness and solitude, so I stepped back and shut the door. Walking into the living room, I sat down on the couch and buried my head in my hands, my fingers diving into my hair. My mom being here was giving me some peace as well. I didn’t want to deal with this alone and being at a loss how to comfort the one person you never want to see hurt is more stressful than I ever thought possible. Sitting back, I rested my head on the back of the couch and closed my eyes. What a day it has been.