“You hungry?”
“What, you gonna make me some delicious oatmeal to go with my decaf?”
“Bacon and eggs.”
“Oh.” Greasy bacon is just what I need.
“Turkey bacon.”
The urge to punchmyselfin the face is strong now. “Sure,” I say like a petulant child. “The eggs are real, right?”
“Sure.” She nods, then smiles. “If you say so.”
“Imitation fucking eggs?” What is wrong with this woman?
“Better for the baby.” She shrugs. “They taste just like real eggs. Same amount of protein. No cholesterol.”
“Fine.” I flop back onto the couch and regret it. I yelp in pain as that damn pokey thing hits me in the lower back.
“Beware.” She snickers. “The couch bites back.”
Why do I get the feeling she’s enjoying my pain?
I must have dozed off again, because I’m shaken awake to the smell of breakfast. “Smells good.”
“It is. Sit up.”
I push myself up, then turn until my feet are on the ground. Looking down, I see a plate heaped with food, including two pieces of toast slathered in what I can only guess is fake butter. No matter, I’m suddenly starving. Picking up the plate, I rest it in my lap and dig in. “Mm. Good.” I smile up at her and nod.
“Told ya.”
I nod and smile. She stands and watches. Like she’s waiting.
She is.
She’s waiting for me to tell her. Abouthim.
I’m suddenly sad. And no longer hungry. Setting the fork down, I place the plate back onto her coffee table.
It’s time.
“His name was Aiden.”
“Was?” Her voice squeaks.
I look up at her, then pat the seat next to me. “Sit.”
She does.
Starting again, I say, “His name was Aiden.”
“Oh, Nate….” I can hear the pain in her voice like she already knows the ending.
“He was born with neuroblastoma.” I look into her eyes. “Cancer.” Maggy stays quiet. “We had no idea. The birth was normal. He was a perfect child.” The most perfect. “He was a big baby. Eight pounds, nine ounces.”
“Oh.”
“He slept through the night right away.” I wink at her, and it feels forced. Because it was. “An advantage of a bigger baby.” I swallow the lump in my throat. The one I get whenever I remember things. “It wasn’t until his second month that we noticed…” I swallow again, and it’s more difficult than the one before. “…a lump in his chest.”
