Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
AUGUST
“Daddy!”
I look up to see my son sprinting on his little legs down the hospital corridor toward me, Priscilla following at a normal pace behind.
It’s only the sight of him that gives me the strength to pull my head from where I’m crouched over with it in my hands, where I’ve been for the last two days waiting for any real news of Lennon.
She’s been in the ICU getting her system flushed and treatments for thallium poisoning, specifically.
It’s a toxic, heavy metal that would have eventually killed her.
It was only because he dosed her occasionally that she lived this long.
But if she’d even finished that second tin of coffee in a row, it might have been her last.
I’ve been haunted by the doctor’s words that first night: “We can get the poison out of her. What we can’t tell you yet is how much damage it’s already done.”
When I asked what he meant, he said she might have lasting nerve pain and peripheral numbness, especially in her feet, that might make her walk clumsily.
The hair loss could take months to recover.
She might have difficulty sleeping, and none of this is to account for the psychological effects of someone you love and trust poisoning you—
Owen reaches me and hurtles himself up into my arms.
I catch him because that’s what you do when a four-year-old missiles himself at you.
And then I clutch him to my chest and breathe in the sweetness of his hair because he is everything good and right in this goddamn universe. He almost immediately gets squirmy, giggling.
“Dad!” he screeches. “Lemme go!”
I kiss him on the mop of his hair before I do. “Good to see you, buddy,” I whisper before releasing him.
Priscilla has reached us by this point, along with a giant tote bag she brings when going anywhere with Owen. She pulls out a stack of coloring books and his box of Crayolas. She tugs over one of the small tables and gets him set up.
I just watch his happy, confident little wriggling body, feet kicking as he gets settled and pops his crayon box, immediately going for his favorite colored Crayon, cerulean blue.
The thing is almost a nubbin, but a favorite is a favorite.
We’ve bought extra whole boxes just to get extra cerulean blues, and even still, we can barely keep up with the kid.
He starts chitter-chattering happily to himself, and half the time you never know if he’s talking to himself, you, or the animals in the coloring books, or maybe none of the above.
The kid just loves to talk, and barely cares if it makes sense to anyone besides him. He’s delighted by the chatter itself.
He has no idea how fucking healing that chatter is right now.
Priscilla sits down in the chair beside me and I can tell by the fond smile on her face as she watches Owen, she must be thinking something similar.
“Hey,” she says, quietly, “I wanted to say how sorry I am for everything that’s happened with… Lennon? Is that her name?”
I can only nod, swallowing hard.
“And Jesus, August, I knew your family was bad, but I had no idea…” Her voice trails off, and when I glance over at her, she looks a little haunted.
She looks my way, and I can see how bad she genuinely feels. “I never should have let him and your mom in the house. God, I’m so sorry, August. When I think about it now—” She stops and shudders. “You told me they were awful, really awful, so many times. But I just thought—”
“That I was crazy,” I shrug and give a helpless little laugh. It’s not even bitter. God knows I know how good Jake was at presenting such a reasonable front and telling such believable stories about my madness.
Priscilla looks even more pained. I’m not being charitable enough, but I’ve just got nothing left in me after the last few days, and I hope she gets that.
“It’s not even that, Aug. I did believe you.
It’s just—” She lets out a big breath and looks down at her lap.
“My parents were awful, too, I thought. And look how they’ve come around.
I always hoped it could be the same for you, that y’all could eventually reconcile and Owen could have both sets of grandparents. ”
Her eyes pop up to mine. “It was so selfish to just project my own situation onto you and your family when it was clearly nothing at all the same. And I’m so sorry if I ever added to the misery they put you through by pushing you to get closer to those monsters.
And ever letting them into Owen’s house where they could get you in a vulnerable position like that.
Fuck, I’m even sorry I trusted Trent’s judgment over yours.
Because that was fucked. I’ve known you for almost a decade and even though we had our ups and downs, I do know you. ”
She reaches out to put a hand on my forearm and without thinking, I jerk it back.
She looks a little hurt but immediately nods.
“I totally understand if it’s not the moment to put all this on you.
I just wanted to bring Owen by and say I’m so sorry.
I really would love to talk over the custody arrangement with you so we could do more halftime whenever you and Lennon are ready for that.
But only when you’re ready. You’ve proven yourself over and over these last two years, August. And you were always a good man. ”
My chin sinks to my chest.
Because it really does fucking heal something in me to hear her say that.
There was a time when all I wanted was to give this girl the world. And over and over I fucking failed at it.
I pull my head up, finally, and look at her. “Scilla, thank you. I genuinely mean that. All I’ve wanted since the moment Owen was born is to become the kind of father he can look up to and trust.”
“You have, Aug. You have become that man.” Tears sheen her eyes, and she swallows hard and swipes at her eyes, looking away as if the moment’s become too intense for her.
She shakes her head, a tear making its way down her cheek before she can catch it. “I broke up with Trent. He’s kind of an asshole. But Dad liked him.”
I manage a huff of air that’s almost a laugh. “Probably ’cause he was nothing like me. What was his job again? Wasn’t he like an accountant in the city?”
Priscilla snort-laughs, swiping her cheeks even more furiously. “He’s a lawyer.”
I roll my eyes, knowing exactly how much her father George hated me and everything I stood for. “George must’ve loved that.”
She smiles hard, chest still heaving a little as she laughs with me. “He really, really did. Oh my god, I’m so absurd. Still trying to please my father at twenty-six years old.”
“You’ll figure out your own way.”
She shakes her head and finally looks back at me. “Who would’ve thought a decade ago that of the two of us, you’re the one with your shit together first.”
I bump her in the shoulder. “You were a grown-up too soon. It’s time you get your turn to totally melt down and join messy humanity with the rest of us.”
“But I don’t wanna,” she mock whines.
“I don’t wanna!” Owen echoes, leaping out of his little chair and proceeding to jump up and down with the enthusiastic delight in any exclamation of defiance only a four-year-old can fully embody. “I don’t wanna! I don’t wanna!”
Priscilla laughs while I stand up and pull him into my arms, then swing him around and around, which makes his giggles shriek off the walls of the waiting room.
The few other people waiting don’t seem to mind, though; there are only smiles sent our direction.
A happy kid is different from an upset shrieking one, I’ve found.
When I finally set Owen’s feet on the ground again, he’s immediately jumping up and down. “More, Daddy! More!”
Priscilla stands up. “Okay, baby. You know we were just stopping in to say hi to Daddy. You’ll see him again, soon.”
“I don’t wanna go. I don’t wanna! I don’t wanna!”
I smile. “Uh oh. I think he just found his new favorite phrase. At least it wasn’t me that taught it to him this time.”
Priscilla pretends to glare at me this time, but she can’t hold it after she picks up Owen, because he’s back to his happy chatter.
Priscilla hikes Owen up on her hip. “Whoa, big guy,” she says. “You’re almost getting too big for this.”
“Not too big,” Owen proclaims. “I’m a baby!”
And he leans his head on her shoulder.
Oh, kid, I get it. And I want him to be able to stay a kid as long as fucking possible. Priscilla rubs his back and gives him a kiss on the top of his head. “You’ll always be my baby. And you’ll still learn to walk on your two big-boy legs, honey.”
“I don’t wanna!”
She laughs into his hair and gives me a wave with a roll of her eyes. “I did it to myself,” she sighs and picks his bag up, putting it over her shoulder.
“Scilla,” I say before she turns to go. “You’re a great mom. Owen’s really lucky.”
“He is to have a great Dad like you. I think this kid’s gonna turn out all right.” She gives me one last nod then sets a complaining Owen down, reminding him he’s got big-boy legs now.
He reiterates the fact that he’s a baby, and they chatter back and forth about it as he skips all the way back down the hall.
Just then, the day nurse comes out and calls my name.
I jump to my feet and hurry over. “I’m August.”
She smiles at me. “Lennon has been asking for you.”
“She’s awake?”
“Awake and doing well. After two days of medicine, she’s feeling a lot better. I bet it would do wonders for her to see a friendly face after all she’s been through.”
“Can I go in?”
“Just follow me.”