Maybe Matt's Miracle(6)

“We’d love to join you,” I say.

Joey looks up at Seth and asks, “Will Mommy come?”

Seth has been trying to tell the little ones all week that Mommy is gone, and they can’t seem to grasp the concept of death. They keep expecting her to walk through the door.

“No,” Seth says, and I see him swallow hard. “Mommy can’t come.”

“Maybe later,” she says quietly, her face falling. He picks her up, and she puts her head on his shoulder. Mellie takes his hand, and we walk toward the funeral cars.

“Rico’s is just a couple of blocks away,” Matt explains, looking at the car like it’s going to bite him. “Do you want to meet us there?”

“We’ll walk with you,” Seth says, and they all start in the direction of the pizza parlor. I look around, thinking I’ll see Phillip, my boyfriend, but he must have left. That doesn’t surprise me, not in the least. I pull out my phone and send him a quick text message.

Me: Where are you?

I shove my phone back in my pocket.

We all fall into a line, with me and Matt walking side by side at the back end of it.

“How are things going?” he asks.

“Terrible,” I admit, and I feel the dreaded tears sting my eyes. Matt pulls out a handkerchief and offers it to me. I take it and dab at my eyes. “It’s just hard. The kids don’t know me, and Seth’s not really interested in letting me get to know the little ones. He won’t even let me read them a bedtime story. He cooks, he cleans, he does laundry, he does everything, and I have never felt more useless in my life.” I look up and realize Matt’s listening. He’s really, really listening.

“Seth has been taking care of his sisters for a really long time,” Matt says softly. “He’s used to doing it all by himself. He did it when his mom was in chemo. And he did it all through her treatments. It’s normal for him. He doesn’t mind it because it’s what he knows.”

“The little ones keep asking when she’s coming back, like she’s on vacation or at the office.” My throat is so thick that I feel like I’m going to choke.

He winces. “That’s got to be tough,” he says.

“I just wish I knew what to do from here,” I admit. I have no idea how to be a mom. I don’t know what to do for fevers, and I can barely change a diaper. Thank God the littlest one is almost potty trained. Although I am learning diapering out of sheer necessity. You put one on crooked, and you’re screwed.

“Are you going to keep them?” he asks.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I admit. “I just don’t know. I don’t have to go back to work just yet. They’re letting me work from home. Well, not my home—Kendra’s home.”

“You’re still staying there?” he asks.

I nod. “For now. I thought it would be better for them to have someplace familiar, surrounded by their toys, their own beds, and even their mom’s things. At least for the moment.”

Matt takes my elbow in his grip and stops. “Skylar,” he says.

“What?” I look into his blue eyes and am almost startled at the intensity of his gaze.

“Can you love them? Really love them? Because there’s no shame in admitting you don’t want them or can’t take care of them. They deserve better.”

“They do deserve better than me,” I whisper. “But I’m all they have.” I snort, just because I can’t help it. “Honestly, Matt,” I say, “I can’t even keep a houseplant alive. What am I thinking?”

He brushes a lock of hair from my forehead. “Do you want to know what I think?” he asks.

“What?” I breathe. We’re in the middle of a crowded street, but I have never felt quite so separated from the rest of the world.

“I think you can do it. I have faith in you.”

“Why?” I ask. “You don’t even know me.”

“Because you care,” he says. “That’s all kids need. For someone to care.”

“Do you have kids?” I ask.

He shakes his head as a veil falls over his eyes. “No. Can I borrow yours sometimes?”

I laugh. “Kind of like a cup of sugar?”

He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t bring the cup of sugar back. The kids on the other hand…” He raises and lowers his hand like he’s weighing his words.

I laugh.

“I can’t have kids,” he says. “Or at least the chances are slim.” He puts up a hand when I open my mouth to ask a question. I know he had cancer, but I don’t know what kind or what his prognosis is. “Not being able to have something really has a tendency to make you want it more.” He points to Seth’s back. “See, you got three at once, and I can’t even have one.” He chuckles and nudges my shoulder with his. He keeps walking, and I stay beside him. “How does your boyfriend feel about them?” he asks.

I shrug my shoulders. “We haven’t really discussed it.”

“Don’t you think you should?” His brow furrows as he looks down at me.

“That’s complicated.”

Matt takes in a deep breath. “I have a confession to make,” he says. “Do you want to hear it?”