Growing up in a small town, it's no surprise that everyone knows everyone. But throw in a little bit of teenage death and all of a sudden everyone is your best friend. It's like that's all anyone ever wants to talk about. My parents can't catch a break in public.

My mom steps out of the truck and onto the hot asphalt with her black and white sneakers. The breeze in the air, rustling her knee high skirt as she makes her way into the supermarket.

"Eggs, Milk, Juice, Lunch Meat," repeating the shopping list back to herself so she doesn't forget anything. She's always done that.

She makes her way down every aisle, scanning the shelves for anything extra she may want. The eyes of the people around her are all but screaming. Their sympathetic stares begin silent conversations in her head.

"Mom, don't forget cinnamon raisin bread. It's Jennifer's favorite," says the voice inside her head. She doesn't want to see me, but it's not something that she can just turn off. "How did that project go at work by the way? Did your boss like it?"

The image of me running my hands along the shelves of bread and Debbie Cakes as my mom looks anywhere but at me. Beating her forehead with the palm of her hand, balled up into a fist she shouts under her breath, "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!"

Everyone is still, the store is quiet. Every head turning to look at my mother. The visions come almost everyday. At first, she enjoyed them. Being able to talk and feel as if I were still there. Sometimes she still does. We'll talk for hours about anything and everything, but I feel like she just wants to move on and heal. But I can't.

Quickly grabbing one more box from the shelf, she turns the cart around and strolls toward the checkout counter, head down trying to avoid as much eye contact as possible. Here I am, screaming at everyone to leave her alone. My voice is drowned out by the wall of reality, no one can hear me, no one except my mother. I know this, but screaming at them is the only thing I can do to stand up for my mom.

I can tell when she's about to have a panic attack. The one's she gets so often when she's in public after my death.

Her heart is racing, she's starting to sweat. She takes a few deep breaths as she pans the checkout lanes for a short line. Express Checkout: Twenty Items or Less illuminated above register four. She approaches the line, there's only two people ahead of her. Trying to calm herself down she starts reciting lines from her favorite book.

" 'There are moments when I wish I could roll back the clock and take all the sadness away, but I have the feeling that if I did, the joy would be gone as well.' "

My mother takes a few more deep breaths.

"Ma'am, are you ready to check out? Ma'am? Can you hear me?" says the lady at the register.

My mom lets out a small chuckle as she apologizes and starts to place her items on the checkout counter.

"How are you today?" my mother asks with a forced smile, wiping the sweat from her forehead with her shirt.

"I'm fine, ready to get home and relax though, it's been a long day," the cashier replies.

The uneasy smirk on my mother's face gave away the fact that something was on her mind.

BEEP... BEEP.... BEEP...

The frequent and steady sound of the scanner beeping as the products were ran across it, slowly faded into the familiar pulsating of the machine that kept me alive for three weeks after the crash.

BEEP... BEEP... BEEP...

The voice of the cashier is faint, but becoming more audible as my mom starts to come back to reality.

"Ma'am. Ma'am? Your total is $36.09. Ma'am? Hello?"

"Yes, sorry, I was just thinking. I'm so sorry. How much did you say?" my mother asks.

"$36.09," the cashier replies with an ill-tempered attitude.

She grabs her debit card from her wallet and swipes it through the card reader. As the receipt is printing, she grabs her groceries and dangles all four bags from her hands, and nods her head toward the cashier.

"Have a wonderful day," my mother says with a smile as she makes her way to the car.

---

Why Dad never paved the driveway, I'll never know. I guess he likes to be able to hear when someone pulls up to the house. He walks outside as my mother parks the truck and opens the back doors to the cabin. My dad grabs the groceries. He's got the goofiest grin on his face as he kisses my mom on the cheek. She flinches, just instinct I guess. A look a guilt falls upon my father's face. He knows he's damaged her.

"Honey, I'm sorry for the things I've done since Paige died. But I can fix it. I can fix it I promise. I have something to show you," he says with an energetic but reassuring attitude.

My dad walks into the house first and sets the groceries down on the kitchen counter. Mother soon follows, closing the front door behind her and taking a seat on the couch.

"No no no, get up. Close your eyes, it's a surprise," says my dad as he takes my mom's hand.

Jennifer comes out of her room and into the living room.

"What's going on?" Jennifer asks curiously.

"You can come too Jen!" my father responds.

Dad takes Jennifer by the hand, covering my mother's eyes with the other as he walks them out into the backyard.

"Watch your step," he says still guiding their footsteps. "Just a little further, let me open this door for you."

My entire family walks into the garage as my dad is grinning from ear to ear.

"Open your eyes," he says.

My mom Marcella is the first to open her eyes. Her eyes glazing over as tears start to fall like rain from her face. Her knees buckle and she trembles to the sawdust covered floor. Reaching out, my dad and Jennifer help her back up as she walks toward the finished boat. She runs her hands up the side of the boat to the name inscribed on the side.

"Paige," she mutters to herself.

Jennifer walks up behind our mom and rubs her back, placing both hands on Mom's shoulders she kisses her cheek.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Dad asks. "This is what I've been working on for the past few months. I wanted it to be a surprise to you until it was finished."

"I love it! Thank you so much," Mom says with tears still streaming from her face.

Mom turns toward our father and gives him a hug, burying her head deep in his chest as he wipes the tears from her eyes. Jennifer wraps her arms around the both of them and says,

"I've missed this. I love you guys."

Dad places his hands on both of Mom's shoulders, looking her in the eyes as he smiles.

"Now, earlier I said I can fix this family, help us grow and bond again. I meant that," he says eagerly.

"I remember, but how do you plan to do that?" Marcella asks curiously.

"Well, as a start, I've enrolled myself into some AA Meetings starting in August because I know I have a problem. But, I won't be starting those classes until we get back," my father says.

"Get back? What do you mean get back? From where?" Ask Jennifer quickly. Looking over at Mom for some kind of clue to what was going on.

"I've planned a family vacation for us. A bonding experience to help us a grow and overcome the loss of Paige so we can still live as a family," dad responds.

"And what all does this family vacation entail for us?" my mother asks.

"Well, we leave next week, and it's a family boating adventure along the coastline. We will set sail from St. Maria and dock back on land in Port Lucille," says my father.

The look on my mother's face was enough to tell you that she was interested, but the fear of what happened to me on that same boat is making her second guess herself. I know she wants her family to go back to normal, but that's hard to do when you're missing a piece of your family.

"Alright, I'm in," says Jennifer with an excited look on her face.

"What the hell, me too," says Mom.

The look on all of their faces brings me so much joy. For the first time in a long time, they're actually smiling together.

My mom looks up from the family hug and glances to her left. I too have my arms around the family. Our eyes lock into each other's as a single tear falls from my mother's eyes.

"I love you Paige," she says as she blinks her eyes to part the tears from her eyelids. Opening them again, just like that, it's just the three of them again.