Standing up, I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. Amie grabs my hand as we wait a short eternity for him to approach.
“The surgery went really well. Max is in recovery. He’s not awake quite yet but would you like to come back and sit with him?” Swallowing the tears, aching in my throat, I nod.
Amie squeezes my hand and lets go. “I’ll be out here.”
“You can see him as soon as we move him to his room,” the surgeon informs her.
Inside the recovery room, machines beep softly under the dimmed lights. Max looks so small in the giant hospital bed with his eyes still closed. They’ve shaved the hair around the implant site, and it’s strange to see the tubes and transmitters above his ears.
“He’ll be able to go home tomorrow,” the surgeon says, “and in a couple of weeks after he heals up, we’ll be able to turn them on.”
“Thank you,” I choke out.
“I’ll leave you two.”
I take my place by his side, stroking his arm and calling him back to me. Max’s eyelids flutter as he comes out from the anesthesia. In a few weeks his whole world is going to change. At least he has a mother who understands that feeling. His bleary eyes light up when they finally find me.
It’s okay, little man, I sign, I’m so proud of you. He asks if Jude is still here. I shake my head and he begins to tell me a story about how Jude was in the operating room. It takes me a few minutes to realize that he’s relaying a dream from when he was under.
“He couldn’t stay,” I say softly, knowing that I’m not talking about a dream now.
Max’s face falls, his lower lip trembling a little but he puts on a brave front.
It’s time.
Keeping Jude and Max separated isn’t protecting either of them. I’d wondered once what Max’s father would think if we showed up on his doorstep. I know now that Max will be welcome there. I can’t say the same for myself.
Chapter 26
Since finding Faith’s death certificate, I’ve made it a priority to visit Nana as often as I’m able. Each week I hope that she’ll be there waiting for me to arrive. I want answers that I doubt she’ll ever give me.
Today, I bring Max. It’s the first time he’s been since his surgery, and despite some soreness, he’s eager to show off his implants at the home.
“Good lord!” Maggie exclaims as she examines them. “Aren’t those cool?”
Max grins at her even as he begins to sign.
“He wants me to tell you that when the doctor turns them on, he’ll be able to hear you.”
The countdown is on at our house and Max informs everyone he meets of that. Maggie and I shake our heads bemusedly as he darts from resident to resident.
“I wish I had half his energy,” Maggie says with a heavy sigh.
“And he just had surgery.” His resilience amazes me. Then again, Max has always amazed me.
When we reach my grandmother’s room, I pause to gather my strength, but Maggie pushes me toward the door.
“She’s having a good day,” she says. “Don’t waste time on worry.”
Maggie bustles back down the hall, urging Max along. He skips through the door behind me and we find her sitting in her favorite chair. She’s not staring out the window though. Instead her eyes are bright and she holds out her arms.
“Hello, Grace,” Nana greets me.
I stare in stunned silence as she pats her lap and Max scampers over. For years, she hasn’t recognized me. She seemed to when I was here last, but this is different. Nana gives Max a book and he’s instantly absorbed.
“I couldn’t always tell you two apart,” she admits as she runs her fingertips through his hair. “Is this your son?”
This is a bigger test than I expected to face.
“No, this is Faith’s son.”
“And where is Faith?” she asks.
She doesn’t remember everything. The death certificate is at home and now I’m glad she can’t remember receiving it. The simple, succinct facts of her death, typed in cold, black ink, will haunt me for the rest of my life. “Faith is gone.”
It’s still hard to say it. It’s still hard to accept that not only is my sister gone from my life, but she’s never coming back.
“Did she die?” Nana asks. It’s just like her to cut through all the unnecessary emotional torture.
“Yes,” I say softly.
“So now this is your son.” It’s not a question. It’s an accepted fact. I don’t know how to tell her that Max has always been my son—will always be my son. I don’t know how to tell her how much I’ve screwed up in the recent years and how much I’m still screwing up, even as I try to change. But more than anything, I don’t know how long I have her here with me. It’s bittersweet to be with her finally. I’ve spent so long wanting her to see me for who I was that now I’m desperate to have her remember me. The fact is that I don’t need to waste this precious time I have with her on my sins, I don’t need to beg her for forgiveness. When the time for retribution is at hand, it won’t be her there to sit in judgement of me.