Matias smiled. “Will you get me some of Izzy’s cookies?”
I thought about that. “I can try. I’m not sure I know where to get them, though. She said something about a bakery her grandmother owns, but I have no idea where it is. If I can find out from her, and they’re open tomorrow when I go out, of course I will.”
I’d do anything for you.
“Cool,” Matias breathed. “Do you think Hiccup is a good name? I want to get a box tortoise and name him that. Or maybe a dog. What do you think?”
I thought that dogs were a pain in the ass, and I really, really didn’t want one.
“Uhh,” I hesitated. “Box tortoises are okay, but I read at the pet store when we went last year that they live for like a hundred and fifty years. That’s going to be a lot longer than both you and I combined…”
“You can give it to your grandbabies,” he said. “You can leave him to the nicest one in your will.”
I felt my heart palpitate at the knowledge that my baby still had such hope even when I did not. “I think they’d probably like that.”
“Or.” He paused. “You can go get one that’s already old. One that’s like a hundred, and we can put him in the backyard like a big dog. We can feed him entire heads of lettuce.”
I’d do anything for you, even find a hundred-year-old box tortoise.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I promised him. “I’m not sure how easy it’ll be to find a hundred-year-old box tortoise…but I’ll do my best.”
Matias’ face was serene after that, and what he said next, after a few long minutes of watching his show, shattered my heart.
“That way you’re not alone when I’m gone,” he whispered. “I’m tired, Daddy.”
I touched the palm of my hand to his soft, bald head. “I know, buddy. I know.”
I felt like throwing up. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs.
I could just break down and cry, like a child who wasn’t getting what he wanted—which in my case was my son to be healthy.
I hated, absolutely loathed, seeing my son so sick.
Hated it with so much passion that sometimes I felt consumed by it.
It’d been so long since I’d laughed, since I’d even cracked a smile.
And that was because the little boy resting his head on my thigh was being taken away from me, one smile and laugh at a time. How could I find joy in this world when something so innocent and beautiful was being taken away from it?
If there was a way, I’d trade places with him. If there was a way, I’d give him every single cell in my body to make him healthy again.
But I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that there was only a matter of time left.
Matias wasn’t going to be on this earth much longer.
I’d gotten a call from the doctor, who’d tried to get Tara to come in over a week ago, saying that he’d wanted to talk to me in person before Matias’ next treatment.
And I knew what he was going to say.
Doctors didn’t call at eight in the evening on a Sunday if they didn’t have something bad to say.
What I didn’t know, and couldn’t figure out, was why they’d want me to wait until then to hear what they had to say.
I knew without them saying it that it was going to be bad news.
“Did you text Izzy to come over tomorrow and watch me?” Matias asked.
I cleared my throat. “No. Uncle Tyler’s coming, remember?”
“Oh.” He paused. “Can you call her and tell her to come, too?”
I felt like I’d taken a sledgehammer to the sternum.
He was forgetting lately. A lot.
There were times that he’d say something, like just then, where I’d have to remind him of what we’d just talked about five minutes before.
And this wasn’t just a kid being a kid, asking the same question over and over again. Matias hadn’t done that in so long. He was highly intelligent, and there were times when I felt like he was wiser than me.
“I could ask her,” I finally said through a lump in my throat.
“That way,” Matias continued. “You can ask Uncle Tyler to go with you, and then Izzy and Reagan can be friends. I don’t think that Izzy has many friends. She told me I was one of her only ones once.”
I couldn’t even muster up the courage to care if Matias was one of Izzy’s only friends or not. I was just happy that she was there for my boy when he needed her, unlike a certain other woman.
I hadn’t even bothered calling Tara.
What would be the point?
The first ten times I’d tried to get into contact with her, my calls went right to voicemail. After leaving messages after each call, the next time I tried to reach her, her phone had been disconnected entirely.