Stay(66)

My eyes close and another rush of tears fall as I pray with all my heart. Please, dear God. I can’t lose my son. I can’t lose Eli. I’ll do anything if only you’ll bring him back to me.

Crunching steps on the path cause me to open my eyes. I look up to see Stephen approaching quickly, his expression grim. My stomach tightens the closer he gets until he stops right in front of me.

“I couldn’t find you.” He reaches forward, taking both my hands in his. “I looked everywhere.”

“Why aren’t you with him?” I can barely say the words through the grief clenching my throat.

“I’m sorry I put you through this. I’m sorry I said this would be easy, and it wasn’t.”

Our eyes lock, and I see his raw emotions. Stepping forward, I put my arms around his waist. His are around my shoulders, holding me with so much strength.

In this moment, I’m ready. “Tell me now.”

His face is in my hair.

He says the words softly in my ear. “He’s awake.”





26





Stephen


“Antarctica has an eerie, almost magical stillness…” I’m not sure how I ever fell asleep without Sir David Attenborough’s voice in the background.

“Noah said his big brother said polar bears have fur on the bottom of their feet!” Ever since he woke up, Eli’s been watching and reading everything Emmy crammed into his head while he was asleep.

We’ve watched every Pirates of the Caribbean movie, we read all three Infinity Wars comic books—now he wants to see the movies—and we’re curled up on that pristine couch in my white living room watching the “Frozen Seas” episode of The Blue Planet.

“He’s right.” I give Eli’s small shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Maybe I’m reassuring myself he’s here. He’s awake. He didn’t leave us.

Emmy is on his other side of him holding a giant bowl of popcorn all three of us are sharing. Eli’s bright eyes and excited voice almost makes me fucking cry.

Only, I’m not a pussy.

“Why do they have fur on the bottom of their paws?” Emmy looks over her shoulder at me, her pretty brow furrowed.

“To keep their feet warm when they walk on ice, Mom! Duh!”

Emmy’s eyes go round, and her mouth opens in pretend shock. “Did you just duh me?”

Eli starts to giggle, and she spins around, putting the popcorn on the floor and pulling her son into a hug. “Don’t you duh me! I’m your mamma!”

He laughs more, and I clear my throat, walking to the kitchen for a scotch before I do cry. Damn, I’m so relieved to have him squealing and happy and back under my roof.

Once he came out of the coma, Henry immediately ordered a battery of tests. He checked everything from brain function to reflexes to memory to cognition. Eli passed them all with flying colors—like all his tests.

Emmy asked him to name a bunch of birds, which I thought was a joke, but I’ll be damned. I think he named at least fifty before she told him he could stop.

Tears were in her eyes, and I just pulled her to me, holding her and thanking God I didn’t break her baby. I’m pretty sure I’d never have forgiven myself if that little boy hadn’t woken up.

They kept him in the hospital until Tuesday, and he continued getting stronger and better. Henry left for Europe, but his partner continued to monitor Eli’s brain activity, watching for any signs of another seizure. He said if it were going to happen, it would be in the first days post-op.

A week later, and he’s still seizure-free.

We’re cautiously optimistic the surgery worked. Henry anticipates a full recovery. It’s incredible how fast everything has changed.

“What are you doing over there?” Emmy calls to me, and I cross my arms, leaning against the large island.

“I was…” I can’t say I needed to walk around before I cried like a little girl. “Want a whiskey?”

She shakes her head, and the two of them return to the screen.

The house is overflowing with bouquets of flowers from Aunt Rebecca. She sent an assortment of caps—knit, baseball, even a bowler. Ethan sent a stuffed sea lion, which Eli keeps away from Kona for obvious reasons. Lulabell sent enough chocolate kisses to last a lifetime and a hot pink beanie with MCC stitched on the front.

Only Lulabell and that idiot Burt knew about the coma—primarily because Emmy and I spent four days walking through the pit of hell. All our families know is he had the surgery, and now he’s home doing amazingly well.

I’m still leaning against the island watching them when my phone rings. It’s Bex.

“Darling! I’m so sorry I’m just checking in. I’ve been busy as a one-armed paper hanger finishing up preparations for the gala. I heard the little man is doing fabulous! Do you still need me to send a private nurse? Say the word, and I’ll call Bootsie.”

Bootsie is my aunt’s nickname for our family physician, Will Breyer. “I didn’t know he was still alive.”

“Don’t be rude, darling. Of course, he’s still alive. My goodness.” She acts so offended, but I swear, that man has to be one hundred.

“It’s only been a week since his surgery.” I’m looking into the living room where Eli sits in a gray knit cap. He hugs Kona and laughs at his mom as he puts a handful of popcorn in his mouth.