Helga smiled knowingly. “I will come back with Margaret when it is time for him to feed. How does that sound?”
“That sounds… good,” he said, allowing a smile. “Thank you.”
James spent the rest of the day with Marcus. Sometimes, he crawled about the floor. Other times, he rested on Marcus’ knee as they sat beside Lucy’s bed. And often, he would crawl on the bed and sit with Lucy. And not once did Marcus regret having him here.
He observed the scene in a way he might not have before. This, he started to understand, was what it meant to have a family. The companionship. The responsibility. The having of someone there for you, through the good times, and the bad.
When it came time for James to eat and go to bed, Marcus was struck by a sudden sense of loss. He handed James to Helga, but it was done with great reservation.
“Would you like to put him to bed?” she asked.
“No, I should stay here…”
“Tomorrow morning, then. How about I fetch you when I wake him?”
Marcus smiled. “That would be nice.”
Alone again, Marcus felt the empty presence of his missing son. He sat with Lucy, he took her hand, and he started to speak. He told her of what James had done today, how adventurous he was, and how he could see Lucy in the child’s actions and mannerisms.
Again, it might have been his imagination, but he could have sworn that she heard and understood him.
“And when you finally wake up, we will take that picnic,” he assured her. “It is long overdue, I think.”
When she wakes up… soon. It must be soon. She is a fighter, this is not the end of her, and it is not the end of us. It cannot be that. I will not let it be…
