Free Breaking Free by Teresa Reasor

you like.”
    His kindness undermined her control, and dropping her purse onto the dresser, Zoe turned her attention to straightening the bed until she could regain her composure. “I’ll have plenty of time to do that later. He won’t need them right away. But I appreciate the offer.”
    “I’m sorry, Zoe. I didn’t mean to---”
    She straightened. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Harold. It’s just an emotional time for us right now.”
    “Yeah, I see that. If there’s nothing else I can do to help, I’ll take off.“ He edged toward the door.
    “Come by the house tomorrow night. We’ll be grilling out. I think some of the others will be there.” She hazarded a glance at him and read his discomfort in the stiffness of his shoulders and the taut set of his jaw.
    “Sure, will do. If you need anything just call my cell. The number will be on your mother’s phone.”
    “I promise we’ll be better company then,” Zoe said and forced a smile.
    “No problem, Zoe. I’ll see you then.”
    She drew a deep breath as the sound of his steps retreated down the hall. He exchanged a quick goodbye with her mother. A door closed.
    Zoe tugged open the top of the sea bag and drew out the first layer of clothing. Desert camouflage. Every tag had Brett’s name written on it. Pain stabbed her as sharp as a K-bar. She swallowed back the sob that thrust into her throat and opened the closet door. Grabbing the bare hangers there, she started unpacking for her brother.
    When her mother returned to the bedroom, Zoe had a third of the bag unpacked and struggled to dump the rest onto the bed. Clara rushed forward to help her lift the heavy canvas duffle and give it a shake.
    A mess kit, canteen, and ditty kit tumbled out with a crushed mass of t-shirts and underwear. Clara began sorting socks and pairing them while Zoe refolded the t-shirts and placed them in a dresser drawer.
    Zoe paused in folding a shirt as her mother dragged a sock heavy with something across the bed. Clara shook the white boot sock and a sheathed knife dropped onto the bed.
    “We probably need to put that in Hawk’s gun safe, just in case,” Zoe suggested.
    “Probably so,” Clara agreed and set the weapon on the nightstand.
    Hearing a sound like dice in a cup a few minutes later, Zoe turned from hanging uniforms in the closet.
    Clara held up a small circular stone. “Wonder what these are?”
    Zoe limped to the bed and picked up one of the small cylinder shaped stones. She studied the pictographs on it. “They look like stamps.”
    “Would they be souvenirs?” Clara asked.
    “Most likely. They’d be pretty placed in a shadow box frame. Maybe I can do that for Brett.”
    “We’ll pick up a frame this week. I’ll put them in my purse so we won’t forget them.” She scooped them up and placed them back in the sock.
    “We can come back another day and unpack the boxes, Mom. I know you’re eager to do that.”
    “I just want Brett to have a home to come to after he’s discharged from the hospital.”
    Her mother’s vulnerability, the hope she tried so hard to hold on to, seemed dulled today by grief. The emotional rollercoaster they both endured on a daily basis had taken a sudden plunge for Clara.
    Zoe grabbed the sea bag from the bed and, folding it up, took it to the closet. “We’ll have this place whipped into shape before he gets out,” she said as she shoved it onto a shelf. She flinched at her own forced positive tone.
    Clara rose from the bed and brushed a distracted hand through her auburn hair. “I’m a little tired, Zoe. You wouldn’t mind going to the hospital without me for a few hours.”
    “No, of course not, mom.”
    She scanned Clara’s expression. The fine lines around her mother’s eyes seemed to have grown deeper just since they’d arrived at the apartment.
    It was so hard to hold on to hope when there was never any positive news to encourage it. Had her mother hit an emotional wall?
    “Do you want to stay and