Promises Promises

Chapter 10

I was pretty sure my mother had lost it.

When I showed up to bring her lunch on my day off, I wasn't exactly shocked to find her outside feeding the deer. But the scene I actually came upon was rather...surprising.

"Mom, what on earth are you doing?"

Her shoulders jumped at the sound of my voice, and she turned to me, hand on her heart. "Mamma mia, Davina Grace!" Shaking her head, she collected her breath before turning back to the feeding trough in her yard, mumbling, "You scared the daylights out of me."

A feeding trough.

There was a feeding trough in my mother's backyard. It was full of oats and she was covering the top of them with a layer of chopped apples, a hearty invitation for the neighborhood deer to come on over and dine.

I knew that grief could be a fickle thing, affecting everyone in different ways, manifesting in a range of emotions often misunderstood by others, but this immediately didn't seem like a great idea.

"Where did you get that thing? And why?" I asked, nodding to the galvanized monstrosity.

That probably wasn't a fair assessment. It wasn't monstrous by any means, about half the size of your average bathtub, raised on four sturdy posts to a good feeding height. But when something that belongs on a farm pops up somewhere that's decidedly not a farm, the item in question automatically takes up more real estate than necessary.

Mom shrugged. "The internet," she replied as though it was the most obvious answer to a very silly question. "You can order anything online these days, Davina. And with just two day shipping."

"I know about online shopping." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Maybe we can skip to the part where you tell me why you bought a feeding trough to put in your backyard."

"Because I wanted to," she said softly, chopping away at her apples.

I plopped down on one of the patio chairs. "Fair enough," I mumbled in defeat.

It wasn't as though her love of feeding animals was a secret. I just never expected her to go to such an extreme. When my eyes locked onto the massive amount of oats inside the trough, I cringed at the thought of what other kinds of local critters might have a taste for them.

"It's awfully close to the house." I mentioned with a tilt of my head, studying the short distance. "Aren't you worried about rodents?"

"That can be handled easily," she muttered.

"What about ticks and...feces?" The deer droppings were bad enough without her providing all that extra nutrition. I didn't want to think about the mess to come.

"That will also be handled."

"By who?"

She spared me a glance and sighed. "You don't need to worry about it."

"I'm going to worry about it."

She rolled her eyes. "Calmati, Davina."

"I am calm," I said with an unintentional snap, coming to my feet and walking toward her. I gestured to the trough. "I'm just concerned. I know you love feeding the deer, Mom, but this is too much. Where did you even get this idea?"

"From Dalton," Mom said, her voice soft, the answer gutting me.

It was the first time she'd mentioned him in casual conversation since he passed, and hearing his name in her motherly voice again, the two syllables flowing from her mouth like a broken lullaby, had my heart jolting in my chest.