“I…” Sigh number four. “I…can’t stop thinking about him. Oren, I mean.” I barely got his name out before I started to cry. Not just a few tears either. I dropped my head and really started to bawl.

Mom came around the table and crouched down beside me. “Honey, I’m so sorry,” she said, looking up at me. I turned a bit as she put her hands on my arms. “I didn’t realize that meeting him had affected you so much. It’s such a horrible thing that happened to him. Do you want to talk about it?”

I nodded and then shook my head. I had a jumble of feelings inside me, crashing together and mixing up—I wasn’t sure they would make sense even if I tried to explain them.

She paused for a moment before she spoke again. “I’m sorry, Evie. I know it must be hard for you and Nate not to think about what could happen if…you know… considering what we do.” It was her turn to sigh. “But… that accident that Oren was in? Things like that are very rare. Still, I understand how scary it must be for you.”

I shrugged. “I try not to think about it, but…”

“I know,” she said, tears in her eyes now. “I think your dad felt the same way, growing up with his parents running the business. He, just like you and Nate, was exposed to death much more than other kids. I think it made him more serious. Definitely a little risk-averse.” She smiled even as she swiped at a tear with her thumb. “But you know that you can always talk to him or me about anything, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” I sniffled. “It’s not just that though. I mean, it kinda is, but it’s more about Oren. I messed it all up. I made him—” I tried to take a deep breath and it turned into a weird sobbing hiccup “—even sadder.”

“You didn’t, Evie.” Mom’s hands slid down my arms to my hands, and she gave them a reassuring squeeze. “You were doing your best to help in a very difficult situation. To be honest, if your Dad and I had known more about what kind of state he was in psychologically, we probably wouldn’t have asked you to help. I’m sorry for putting you in the middle of that.”

“It’s okay.” I looked up at her. “I wanted to help. I just…” Would I ever get this stuff right?

“You did not mess up, Evie,” she said almost sternly as she stared directly into my eyes. “Okay?”

I shrugged. I didn’t believe her, but I didn’t feel like arguing.

She gave me a final squeeze before she stood up. “Your father and I have to go next door now to do the taharas for Oren’s parents. Nate is up in his room if you need anything.” She gave me a kiss on the top of my head before she left the room.

I suddenly wished they didn’t have to go to work. Maybe if they didn’t have to, Mom would sit and help me like she sometimes did—using my paper cutter to make strips for me while I twirled and arranged them into shapes. We could talk more about Oren and what it meant for him now that his parents were gone. Or maybe I could talk to my dad about what it was like for him growing up in this same house, watching his parents go to work in the funeral home right next door. Was it the same for him as it was for me?