A Mother's Goodbye

‘Then how would it be? Because I sure as hell can’t see it.’ He shakes his head. ‘You even think there’s a school out here, a private school, that Grace would like?’

I fold my arms. ‘Maybe she can’t have everything, then.’

‘And maybe you can’t.’ We stare at each other: a standoff.

‘Don’t you want him, Kev? Our son?’ I whisper. ‘How can you not want him back?’

Kev stares at me for another few taut seconds, unspeaking. ‘You think that’s what this is about?’ he finally demands in a low voice. ‘You think this is about wanting or not wanting my own son?’

‘Well, you’re sure acting like you don’t want him,’ I snap. I want to hurt him as he is hurting me because damn it, this isn’t fair. I’m so close, we’re all so close, to being a family again. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, even if I’ve never let myself dream of it, six of us under one roof, together. And now it’s here, I can practically touch it, and Kev is refusing to go along?

Kev rakes both his hands through his hair, shaking his head as he looks at me with a mixture of resignation and scorn. ‘We gave him away seven years ago, Heather. I wish to God things could have been different back then. I wish I’d never hurt my damn back, I wish we hadn’t been so damn broke. But that’s the way it was and we can’t make up for it. I let you have your afternoons because I knew how important they were to you, but hell, if I’m going to let you wreck our family forever because of him. I won’t.’ His expression settles into something hard and unyielding, something I don’t like. ‘I swear to you I won’t.’

I stare at him, my ears ringing with his awful words, his lethal tone. ‘You let me?’ I finally spit. ‘You allowed me? Is that how you’ve seen it—’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘You think I want to wreck our family?’ I practically shriek, the words scraping my throat raw. ‘That’s not how it is, Kev. Of course that’s not how it is. I want to restore it—’

‘No.’ Kev speaks quietly, firmly now. ‘No. This is our family, Heather: you, me, Emma, Amy, Lucy. No more. That’s how it has been for seven years; that was the choice we made, even if you could never see it that way.’

‘That’s not true.’ I’m fighting tears, caught between anger and wild grief. ‘That’s not true.’

‘It is true. Do you even realize the toll these visits have taken on the kids you do have? Do you ever see it?’ I stare at him, shocked, and he shakes his head. ‘You haven’t even asked about Amy. You know something’s going on but you don’t even care.’

‘I was going to ask. But this came up first—’

‘It always does.’

I spin away, the heels of my hands pressed to my eyes. He’s being so unfair. He’s twisting everything, making me feel so selfish, when all I’ve wanted was to do what’s right for my kids, all my kids. Am I the only one who sees that? ‘And what if we are Grace’s only choice, Kev?’ I ask, my hands still pressed to my eyes. ‘Do we walk away from our son then?’

‘We can’t be her only choice.’

‘You don’t know—’

‘Do you? Or are you just seeing what you want to see? There must be someone, Heather. She doesn’t live in some bubble. She has friends.’

I don’t answer, because I know we’ll just keep going round in circles, neither of us willing to give in. Because I’m not going to give Isaac up that easily – I can’t.

‘Do you want to know what I found in the trash?’ Kev asks quietly. ‘About Amy?’

I drop my hands. I don’t really want to know, but I know I need to. ‘What?’ I ask wearily.

/> ‘A pregnancy test.’

Twenty-Seven

GRACE

Pretty soon I discover I can’t live in the ‘I’m-about-to-die’ mode all the time. It’s too exhausting. And so I live day to day, concentrating on the little things that don’t actually feel so little – taking care of Isaac, recovering from surgery as best as I can, arranging my affairs. The last is a behemoth of a job, and the most important, and I chip away at it slowly.

I visit Dr. Stein, who takes out the drains, and then the bandages, and then the sutures and steri-strips. The scars are livid and red but they’re smaller than I expected. I don’t look as cut up as I thought I would; really, I just look deflated. And I feel a bit stronger, even as I know I am getting weaker.

I’m breathless from just getting up from the sofa, and I’m getting more headaches. I’m also numb in my right hand, and sometimes my vision goes blurry. I’m nauseous and I can’t eat much, although I force myself to, at least a little. I told Dr. Stein about the symptoms, and she just nodded, unsurprised. It turns out what I thought was a really bad reaction to the chemo was actually the cancer spreading. Silly me.

She offered the experimental drugs again, as well as the Kadcyla that might give me symptoms worse than the ones I already have. I say no to it all. I know false hope when I see it. I can read it in Dr. Stein’s eyes. She’s got to offer, and I get to say no.

Two weeks slip by far too quickly. Heather calls and leaves messages, and I feel guilty for putting her off, but I need to get my head straight first. I can’t just give Isaac to her like a birthday present. I need a plan, a way to ensure his future is secure, that he gets what he needs. I also need to talk to him about the fact that I’m dying, but that is a conversation I’m not ready to have yet, although God knows, I haven’t got that long to prepare myself.