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She prepares a week in advance for it.
She makes sure they have comfort food in stock and that she can allow herself all the free time if he wants her, while also having something to do if he prefers to be alone. Mostly, she buys the painting materials. She has her own stuff, of course, but if she wants Mack to get on board with this, she knows she will need to offer him cheap materials. Like you don’t deserve quality things just because you don’t have “talent”. Like there is something like “talent” at all when it comes to making art. Fights to fight another time, she guesses.
The beginning of the day goes around what Elena had expected it to go: Mack laying on the bed pretending to be asleep while she could see the tense line of his spine. Elena places an open-mouthed on his shoulder and comes back half an hour later with coffee and toast.
The bags on his eyes betray him, but Elena chooses to say nothing and let him have his breakfast in peace. He is not rejecting her yet, so that is as much a good sign as she is going to get.
“I have a suggestion for you,” she leads the charge the same second he finishes washing their mugs, and Mack looks at her warily.
She has tried the talking approach before and it hasn’t worked. He talks about Hope all year round- sometimes longingly, sometimes with sadness and guilt, sometimes with mirth, always with a heart bursting with love-, but refuses to do so on the anniversary of her passing. He hasn’t articulated it in so many words, but Elena imagines that the pain is too raw during this day to talk about it.
“A suggestion for what?”
In lieu of an answer, she takes his hand and walks him to the living room where she has set up her tripod with a blank canvas and the new colors nearby.
“I know today is a hard day for you, and I thought that something that helps me work through difficult feelings could be useful for you, too.” She looks at him from the corner of her eyes, allows him a moment to process all the emotions that she can see running through his face. “Maybe do something for her, or about her.”
She places a brush on his hand and he takes it, which is a good sign. He is breathing a bit heavier than normal, but Elena knows she did a good thing when he sees him touching the blank canvas with reverent fingers. She back walks slowly to leave him alone with his discoveries, but he stops her with an extended hand and pleading eyes.
“Don’t go.”
“Okay.”
He still cries intermittently through the day, but he also talks about her and Elena listens to him and when he washes off the paint stains at the end of the day, there is also peace in his eyes to tell her that she did right by him, by both of them.