“You got it, whatever you guys need,” he says, sniffling.

I take in one last deep, ragged breath and stand on my wobbly legs. I begin to reach for the office doorknob, but turn toward Rob instead. He stands immediately, ready for whatever directive I need accomplished. I close the gap between us and rise up on my tiptoes to pull him into a hug. Realizing that he is probably hurting just as much as I am, I wrap my arms around him, giving him the moment he may need to mourn for the best friend he just lost.

Rob had held himself together exceptionally well, considering; I know that he is trying to be strong for me. But I know this man; he needs permission to breakdown, so I give it to him. He stands there with his hands at his sides, shocked by my sudden embrace. “We’re both going to miss him, Rob,” I tell him while I pat his back.

It is all the encouragement he needs to let his emotions breach the dam. He brings his arms around me, picking me up off the floor, squeezing so hard that I can hardly breathe. He buries his head in my shoulder and releases all of the pain he has been holding back for my sake. His body shakes with every sob, and I just hold on, letting him feel what he needs to. “I don’t know what to do now, Viv,” he cries. “He was my best friend, my brother; what am I supposed to do without him?”

“We just keep going, one day at a time. That’s all we can do.”

He nods into my neck and I massage his back, trying to soothe him, soothe us both.

When his cries subside, he gives me one last hard squeeze and places me back on the ground. “I’m sorry, Viv. I shouldn’t have lost it like that. I should be here for you right now.”

“Don’t be sorry. Right now, we all need to be there for each other. I wasn’t the only one who lost Will today; we all did.”

He nods, but doesn’t say anymore. I understand though. Will and Rob really were like brothers. His pain, I’m sure, feels just as deep as my own, and I wouldn’t want to take anything away from him.

“The halls should be cleared out by now; I’m going to go get the kids and go home. Please keep everyone away,” I say before turning toward the door.

I open it and walk through the threshold. The halls are desolate, as I expected. I have no intention of stopping into the main office to let them know I’m leaving. I’m sure word of the accident has spread, and I don’t want to see or talk to anyone. My sole mission is to hug Blake and Emma and go home, so I head towards the direction of the preschool.

In a school the size of ours, it doesn’t take long to get anywhere. Within a few minutes, I find myself standing outside the kids’ classroom. There is a huge glass window next to the door, and I stand stationary, watching the kids play on the other side. I can’t bring myself to open the door yet, knowing that when I do, their lives will forever change. I will smash the world that they know, and it will never be the same again. I wait, watching their laughter, hanging onto the final moments of their carefree childhood.

Their teachers begin to round up all of the students for naptime; my time to procrastinate has ended. As I enter, I’m immediately greeted by the preschool staff. My coworkers are friendly, but surprised to see me. They must not know.

“I need to pick up Blake and Emma,” I tell them as I sign each child out and gather their backpacks.

“Is everything all right?” they ask. Thankfully, none of them are close enough to see the makeup streaked down my face. I figured that question was coming next; I never miss a day of school, and to be taking the kids as well is completely unorthodox. As much as I knew it was coming, I couldn’t say the words out loud, so instead, I went with denial. “Just not feeling well, so I thought I would just take everyone home.” I don’t bother to elaborate that the reason I feel like my stomach is in my throat, or that my eyes burn with every blink, is because whatever bit of heart I had was put in a blender and pureed about an hour ago.

Both Blake and Emma run to me and attack my legs when they see me, which only makes the lump in my throat more difficult to swallow down. They grab their backpacks from me and ask nothing of the break in our routine until we pull away from the school.

“Where are we going, Momma?” Emma asks. I’m not about to talk about anything until we get home, so I generate the most generic answer I can that won’t prompt more questions.

“Oh, we need to talk about something that couldn’t wait until after school. Besides, I figured you guys wouldn’t mind getting out of nap time,” I say, looking in the rearview mirror. They ask me no more questions and quietly converse in the backseat until we pull down our dirt driveway.

I feel myself relax a bit when I see that there are no other cars parked in front of our house. It probably took Rob holding my mother at gunpoint to keep her away from our house; but whatever he did to accomplish the task that I asked, I’m so appreciative.

As soon as I park, the kids quickly unbuckle. I press the child lock so they can open the car doors on their own and go inside. “Please, go in and sit on Momma and Daddy’s bed,” I tell them, as they burst out of the car.

They rush into the house, but I remain in the car, holding onto the steering wheel, zoned in on the empty spot where Will usually parks his patrol car. I try to think of what to tell them, what the best way to go about telling a child that their father isn’t coming home. I’ve been in their place before, and I don’t know if there are any right words, but there sure as hell are bad ones. There are no do-overs with something like this, and I’m terrified that I’ll screw it up.

Giving up, I open my door and slowly walk inside, where what’s left of my world is waiting for me. I find them sitting patiently on my bed, both dangling their feet off the edge. I kneel down and take both of their shoes off, and then remove my own. I climb on to the bed and motion for them both to join me farther. We sit in a small circle, and I grab each of their tiny hands, rubbing my fingers along their knuckles.

“Guys, something happened today that we need to talk about.”

“Did you quit your job like Aunt Charlotte and Grandma want you to? Is that why we are home early?” Blake asks which brings the first half-hearted smile to my face since I got the news.

“No, little man, I didn’t quit,” I answer, giving him a smirk that doesn’t quite meet my eyes. “Your daddy was in a very bad accident today.”

“Are we going to the hospital to see him? Did the doctor fix all his owies so he can come home?” Emma asks. The sweetness of her question makes the growing boulder in my throat painful. It becomes difficult to breathe, and my voice cracks when I try to speak. I have to look away from them to pull my emotions back under control.

“No, baby,” I exhale through the tears. “The accident was too bad, and the doctors couldn’t fix him. Daddy was just hurt too bad, and he went to Heaven.”

Their little faces begin to scrunch as the tears hit their eyes and they comprehend that their father isn’t coming back. When Emma’s first tears hit my pillow, I allow my own tears to fall and wave them into my arms. Both quickly crawl into my lap and bury their faces in my chest.

“I’m so sorry. You know Momma loves you, and we will be okay. We just have to stick together,” I tell them as I lean back against the headboard and begin stroking their hair.

Blake pulls away and looks up at me with tears running down his reddened cheeks. “But he said we were a team and that he was the captain; we would always be our own team. If he’s not here, we won’t be a team anymore.” I see the panic pouring out of him at the idea of our family crumbling, and even though I need to ease that anxiety, I fear the exact same thing.

Cradling them in my arms, I ease down the bed to lay us all down. “Blake, our team is not going to fall apart. We may be changing the line-up, but we will always be a team; we will always be a family.”