Chapter 4
Jeannie
Penny for Your Thoughts
“So, which book are you looking forward to reading first?” I asked, pushing Max’s walker as we slowly walked along. He’d used it in the bookstore, so I’d left it unfolded, happy to drive it while my son walked on his own a bit.
He was still a bit shaky, his muscles and energy levels far below what they should be for his age, but if people knew how far he’d already come in a few months, they’d be cheering in the streets like I always wanted to. Hell, if I had the money, I’d rent a billboard to brag about my son.
While I had no desire to be one of those toxic boy moms online that were weirdly possessive of their sons—hell, some of them bordered on emotional incest—I did love my son more than anything else, and it was as easy as pie to do so, but on a healthy level.
I would never insist that no girl would ever be good enough for him or use him as a stand-in for a partner.
That love I felt for him made the way my parents had treated me all the more baffling.
The idea of doing anything like that to Max…
I had to cut that thought off otherwise I would get pissed, and why get pissed on such a beautiful, winter day?
“Shadow Castle!” Max replied enthusiastically. “Thank you for carrying the books, by the way.”
“Of course. What are mommies for?”
“I dunno, saving the world, maybe?”
His words almost startled me into stopping. “Are you teasing me, Maxie?”
“Teasing?” His naturally big, hazel eyes that looked so much like mine grew even larger. “Like, making fun?”
“Yeah.”
“No, I meant it.”
I flushed. My boy had always been vocal about how much he appreciated me, but well… sometimes things hit hard, even good things.
“Thank you, Max. I’ll try to make sure I always live up to that.”
“I don’t see how you couldn’t.” He gave me a gap-toothed smile. Like much of his development, getting his adult teeth had been delayed, and he still had one more to go. “You’re the best mom ever.”
Goodness.
I didn’t want to cry on the street, partially because I didn’t want to be a bummer and partially because I didn’t want my face to be wet with how cold it was. Although we were appropriately bundled up, that wouldn’t do much good if I was all snotty and teary.
“Thank you, Max. You’re the best son ever.”
“Eh, I’m pretty okay.”
That made me laugh, and my adorable son grinned cheekily.
He wasn’t an outright comedian, but he’d learned to cope with his situation with lots of humor and always seemed to perk up whenever he could make anyone laugh.
He hadn’t said it explicitly, but I got the feeling he liked it because no matter how sick he was, he could always be funny.
And honestly, I was right there with him.
When I’d first escaped my home, I’d struggled with depression, which was why I’d fallen in with his father.
I was young, scared, sad, and stupid. Still, I wouldn’t change what had happened because then I wouldn’t have Max.
I never thought I would be a good mother considering what I came from, but as it turned out, I had all the power to break generational curses.
So, I damn well would.
“Do you want your walker for a bit?” I never wanted to pester my son, but sometimes he got a bit drunk on his own independence and pushed himself more than he should.
I figured it was difficult for a nine-year-old to rein himself in when he’d spent six months of his life almost completely bedbound, so it was my job to keep an eye out. “We’ve been moving around a lot today.”
“No, I’m still feeling good,” he answered, holding his pace steady as we strolled along. “I’m glad I had the walker for the store, though. It made it easier since I could sit on it while we looked at the books. There sure were a lot.”
“There were. We got lucky.”
While I wasn’t really in a position to spend any extra money, especially before Christmas, my son and I had a tradition.
On the third Thursday of every month, we went to a local bookstore that had sold damaged books and old paperbacks for about ten cents each.
They used to be a penny, but eh, inflation was striking everywhere.
So, for two dollars plus tax, we now had a backpack chock-full of books that would last my son a month or two. He would keep all his favorites, then we’d donate the rest to our local library. Definitely worth it, since Max could chew through books.
And his appetite for the written word was way more reliable than his one for food.
He liked fantasy, sci-fi, animal facts, fables, biographies, memoirs.
His tutor at the hospital said he was already reading at a seventh-grade level, which honestly felt a bit like fate since I was a freelance editor for multiple clients of different genres. Like mother, like son.
We walked a bit more in silence, just listening to the sounds of the city. Max certainly wasn’t a speed demon, but I couldn’t help but notice he’d walked longer than he ever had before. I was incredibly proud of him, but we were reaching the point where I would need to intervene and make him rest.
Thankfully, it didn’t get to that.
“I think I could use a break now,” he said, stopping and drawing in long breaths.
“Okay, big man, I could use a break, too.” I didn’t really, but there was nothing wrong with a little camaraderie.
I wasn’t exactly excited about the prospect of my son sitting on a bench out in the cold, so I scanned the area and pointed to what I was pretty sure was the community center—or at least a part of it.
“Why don’t we duck in there? Warm up, use the toilet, then we’ll head back?”
That was another thing. While I was always ready to celebrate all his accomplishments, walking a long distance also meant we had to walk back.
Of course, if worse came to worse, I’d carry him. It wouldn’t be easy, but doable. One day he would weigh too much for me to do it—fingers crossed—but we weren’t anywhere near that yet.
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
“Awesome-sauce. Here, take your walker for this last little distance, okay?”
“That’s probably a good idea.” He said it matter-of-factly, but I knew my son well enough to hear the slightest amount of ire in his tone. It wasn’t aimed at me, but I knew what it was about.
“With the way you’re going, soon you’re not gonna need it at all.”
“You think so?” he asked, those little eyebrows of his shooting up.
“I know so.”
His eyes brightened at that, and the two of us headed inside.
We were at the back entrance of the outdoor ice rink.
In the summer, it was a wading area. I’d brought Max here a couple of times in the summer when our AC had broken down and our landlord was dragging his feet to fix it.
Too much heat could be just as harmful to a sick kid as too much cold.
The water was shallow enough that I could push his wheelchair through to one of the many geysers.
It was a godsend. I didn’t know how people could justify replacing these spaces with parking lots and ugly buildings for corporations.
These little spots of joy were all some kids had, and a lot of families depended on them.
“There’s the toilet. I’m gonna go on my own, okay?”
“Go ahead. You’re old enough to handle your business.” Not too long ago, he’d had to use diapers—thankfully, for only a short time—so, I understood why my son wanted to be independent about his bathroom process now.
“Cool, cool.”
I watched him as he rolled off, his steps slow but still steady, and posted myself close enough where I could hear him if he needed me but far enough where I wasn’t the creepy woman waiting outside the men’s restroom.
A bright, colorful flyer pinned to the community board caught my eye, and I moved over to it.
Kids’ Skate Night. Free admission for all kids under twelve. Two-hour children’s skate rental included.
The rink wasn’t expensive—they only charged five dollars for insurance reasons—but with food and renting skates, it was way too much for my budget. But a free night?
I waited until Max exited before hurrying over to him and pointing to the flyer.
“Hey, do you wanna come ice-skating this weekend? They’re having a kids’ night for the holidays.”
I would never, ever get tired of seeing his face light up every time he realized he had a chance to do something that would have been impossible when he was at his sickest.
“Yeah! That sounds so cool!”
“I think so too. Now, let’s go sit down at one of the tables. Maybe we can read the first chapter of Shadow Castle before we head back.”
“Awesome! This is the best Christmas ever!”
I could have cried right then and there. I didn’t know what I had done to deserve the angel in front of me, but I would be eternally grateful for him. We’d quite literally been through hell and back together, and somehow, we had come out better on the other side.
“It’s my favorite Christmas, too.”