And Aunty Chase Was Awesome

Remember how earlier I’d mentioned my thoughts on the concept of hope? As I sat in Parker’s office, Amanda’s fingers squeezing mine so hard it hurt, I knew there was a reason for my dismissal of it. Hope had royally fucked me over.

Raph wasn’t a match.

I don’t know at what point I’d believed one hundred percent that he was going to be. But at some stage in the last three hours, between when he’d hugged me in the hospital foyer to when he’d left with Parker to have the tests, my stupid optimism had taken charge of my commonsense and I’d convinced myself my old rival and friend was going to save my son’s life by being the perfect bone-marrow match. Maybe because he was a born chick-flick-hero kind of guy. Maybe because he’d saved Maci’s life by loving her. For whatever reason, I was convinced he was going to be a match and save my son.

He wasn’t. He didn’t know that yet. Neither did Maci. It was only Amanda and me and Parker in his office, the 5:30 am dawn sun streaming through the window, its promise of a new day mocking us with cruel light.

My heart pounding in my ears like a canon, I stared at Amanda sitting beside me, her stricken profile. Inside I was … empty.

“No.” She shook her head at Parker.

Parker’s sigh filled the office. He’d come back to the hospital dressed in gray suit pants, a white shirt and a purple and green polka-dot bowtie. The frames of his glasses were lime green. A purple handkerchief poked out of his breast pocket. I knew the colorful display was for the children, but I wanted to take that handkerchief and tear it to shreds.

Fate, life – hell, maybe even God if he really did exist – had fucked us over again.

I wanted to hurt something. I wanted to scream at something. I wanted to rage. And cry. Jesus, I wanted to cry.

But for Amanda’s sake, I wouldn’t. She needed my strength. Not bitter tears and futile anger.

“We’ll put out another call to the donor bank,” Parker said, his voice calm and gentle. And yet, I could hear defeat in it.

A critical stage. They were the words he’d used last night, talking to me about Tanner’s condition. How critical must it now be for that tone to taint his normal confidence?

I ignored the cold fear creeping through me. “Have you heard from my parents?” I asked. Thankfully I sounded calm. I didn’t feel it, not by a long shot. “Have they had their tests yet?”

Parker shook his head. “Their results haven’t come in yet. I’m coordinating with the head of Oncology at your mother’s hospital, but there’s been a delay in the processing.”

I ground my teeth. “Of course there has,” I growled.

Seriously, if I could, I’d kick Fate in the arse right now.

“Tanner’s a—”

“Fighter?” I finished for him. My knuckles creaked as I balled my fists. Was it wrong to be sick of hearing how much a fighter my son was?

“Bren.” Amanda’s warm hand closed over the back of one of mine. “Being angry doesn’t help,” she said, the words kind. “Trust me, I know.”

I stared at her. She did know. She’d ridden this rollercoaster for over a month now. Me, I’d only been on it for a day. If I was ready to splinter under the pressure, how was she even functioning?

As if seeing the confusion, grief and bitter rage war on my face, she leaned towards me in her chair and pressed her hand to my jaw. “You are strongest when you’re not angry, babe,” she said, a small smile playing on her lips. “You’re like the anti-Hulk that way.”

My Adam’s apple slid up and down my throat as I swallowed. Holding her gaze, I let out a slow breath and nodded. “What now?” I asked, turning back to Parker.

Sympathy and sorrow swam in his eyes. “For now, you both go be with your son. Enjoy his life, his smiles. Enjoy him. I’m going to put out another call to the donor bank. You never know, a donor may have registered late last night. People do unexpected things in the wee hours of the morning.”

That was true. I’d bought a one-way ticket to LA in the middle of the night, only thirty-six hours ago.

Amanda and I went to stand, but Parker cleared his throat.

“Before you go …” He closed his eyes, and raked a hand through his hair. “Before you go,” he began again, opening his eyes to level us with a steady stare, “I need to tell you, Amanda, that your father is pressuring the hospital to do the transplant using Robert Aames’ bone marrow.”

My blood turned cold. “What the …?”

Amanda froze. “He what?”

Parker sighed, disgusted. “One of his students is the daughter of one of our board members, and she thinks he walks on water. He’s using that leverage to pressure the hospital into saying you’re not fit to be Tanner’s legal guardian. From what I understand, he’s also started legal proceedings to be named as Tanner’s legal guardian instead.”

Amanda burst out laughing. Parker blinked. I gaped at her. She stood beside me, eyes closed, hand on her belly, shaking her head, laughing. A completely loud raucous laugh. And then it became something else. Something … angry, brittle.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” She shook her head some more, wiping at her eyes. “I don’t …” She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and looked up at me.

A dark hate sliced through my chest at what I saw in her eyes: defeat. Utter defeat. Professor Charles Sinclair, her father, the man who was meant to care for her, protect her from hurt and grief in any way he could, was destroying her. When she was at her most vulnerable, he was ripping her apart.

I wanted to kill him. Plain and simple, I wanted to kill him.

“Can he do that?” I asked Parker. If I didn’t ask a question, if I didn’t focus on the legality of Charles’s callous intent, I have no doubt I would have left the hospital, caught a taxi to the Sinclair’s house and beaten the crap out of him. For a horribly enticing moment I even saw him opening their front door, recognition filling his face a split second before my fist smashed into his jaw …

I fixed my eyes on Parker, my pulse wild, waiting for the answer to my question.

“He can.”

At Amanda’s broken whisper, I turned to her. There wasn’t a sign of laughter, not even angry laughter, now. The defeat in her eyes had leached into her face. She was sitting again, her spine stiff, pinching at her thumbnail.

“He can,” she repeated, a little stronger now. “But it’s a lengthy process. He has to prove I’m unfit to be Tanner’s parent.” Her lips moved into a sad smile. “And now you’re here, he’d have to prove you are as well.”

I dragged in a slow breath. The urge to walk out of Parker’s office and find Charles Sinclair overwhelmed me again.

Parker cleared his throat. “As Amanda said, it’s a lengthy process, one that …” He cleared his throat again, removed his glasses and rubbed his thumb at the corner of one eye. “… one that, if we don’t find a donor match, will outlive Tanner.”

Cold pain lanced my rage. I ground my teeth. “So why is he doing it?”

Parker shook his head, and put his glasses back on. He grimaced. “Charles is a determined man.”

“Determined to let his grandson die because he has issues with me?” I balled my fists. “Or because he will do anything to ingratiate Robert Aames into Amanda’s life?”

“Bren.” Amanda touched my wrist. “Dad’s …” She broke off.

“A condescending, arrogant bastard?” I finished for her. I shouldn’t have gone there, I shouldn’t have let my anger control me.

Amanda frowned. “Yes. You’re right. He is both of those things. But he loves me, I know that, and he thinks … He’s doing it from a place he thinks …”

She stopped and slumped in her chair, dropping her face into her hands and shaking her head.

I watched her, feeling helpless. I had no clue about the American court system, about US law. I had no clue what Charles’s legal case meant for Tanner. I had no fucking clue what it meant for me and my future with him. If Charles got his way, I had no doubt he’d make sure the “dumb Australian jock” had no contact with his grandson ever again.

What I did have a clue about was what he was doing to Amanda. It was right in front of me. And she was still defending him. He was destroying her, and she was still trying to protect him from my rage. Because she loved him, as any daughter who’d grown up with a father who cherished her, who doted on her, who wanted only the best for her … she loved him.

Which didn’t change my desire to break his jaw at all. But it did keep me in Parker’s office.

Drawing in a slow breath, I lowered myself into my seat and looked at Parker. “You said Charles is pressuring the board. What does that mean?”

“He’s making noise, via his student’s father. It’s a dead-end. The board has no sway over any medical decision, but Charles and Jacqueline do have legal permission to make medical decisions about Tanner’s treatment if Amanda is incapable of doing so. I think Charles is trying to see how much that permission allows him at this point.”

“Allows him?” I echoed. My gut was a knotted mess.

Parker pulled a face. “It allows him nothing. All Amanda needs to do is revoke that right. Now that you’re here, it makes sense she does that and gives it to you anyway.”

“Jesus, Dad,” Amanda muttered beside me.

I looked over at her. Her cheeks glistened, wet with tears. But she was sitting straight. Her jaw was set. Strong. She was so strong. Stronger than me.

“And,” Parker went on, “he’s trying to scare you. Both of you.”

I raised my eyebrows.

Parker grunted. “You’re both young. You, big guy, aren’t from around these parts. You don’t know our laws. Charles knows that. If you’d been a match, he wouldn’t have been able to play this card, but unfortunately you weren’t.”

“What time is it?”

I blinked at Amanda’s sudden question. So did Parker. He checked his watch before I did. “Close on six-fifteen.”

Amanda let out a sigh and turned to me. “It’s a Saturday. Dad’s not going to be awake for another hour or so.” She smiled. A real smile. One full of warmth. “But Tanner will be. He’s probably already awake, waiting for me. Waiting for us.”

Us.

Smile growing softer, warmer, she rose to her feet again. “C’mon, Bren, let’s go spend the morning with our son. We’ll deal with Dad later, okay?”

I frowned, but didn’t move.

She grinned. Actually grinned. “Who do you want to spend the morning with right now, Bren? My dad? Bruising your knuckles on his jaw? Or your son? Maybe getting whacked in the head with Optimus Prime a few times and refining your diaper-changing skills?”

Parker chuckled. It was a strained sound, but running beneath it was the playful humor of the man I’d very first met. “I’ve heard those skills need some work.”

Amanda held out her hand. “Come see Tanner with me, Bren. You can help me change his, what do you call them? Nappy?”

“Nappy.” I rose to my feet, took her hand and smiled. “And I can change him myself.”

We were at the door to Parker’s office when Amanda turned back to face him. “Thank you, doctor.”

He nodded. “I will do everything I can to save your son, Amanda. Everything. Even if it means telling a loving daughter her father is being a bit of an ass.”

A dry bark of a laugh burst from me before I could stop it.

Amanda fixed me with a melodramatic glare, her lips twitching. “C’mon, Bren. Nappy time.”

We left Parker’s office, hand in hand, and headed for Tanner’s room. The hospital was waking up, its young patients beginning to interact with nurses, some laughing at whatever was taking place in their rooms. I heard the sounds of Pokémons battling, the Wiggles singing and Finn and Jake going on another crusade in Adventure Time as we walked the corridors heading for the Oncology ward.

“I’m sorry,” Amanda murmured just before we arrived, stopping me with a gentle squeeze of my hand.

I turned to her. “For what?”

“For Dad. For him not liking you.”

I chuckled, cupping the side of her face. “Do you think I remotely care what your father thinks of me?”

She shrugged. “It must make you feel like crap though?”

“I’ve got to admit, I’m not used to people not seeing how awesome and incredible I am.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Of course, that must be brutal.”

“I’ll get over it. And so will he. But until he does, he’s going to have to learn to live with me. Because I’m not going anywhere. Got it?”

Amanda nodded. “Got it. Hope you don’t mind me going a bit psycho on his ass when we see him next though?”

I grinned. “Only if I can take photos. Maybe Chase can Instagram it?”

She rolled her eyes again, leaning into me a little. “I don’t think she’ll have a problem with—”

My phone buzzed and vibrated into life in my pocket.

Grabbing Amanda’s hand before she could turn away to give me some privacy – there was nothing I didn’t want her to know anyway – I pulled my phone free and looked at the screen.

Raphael Jones. At the sight of his name, the fact he was here in San Diego flooded back to me, the bleak reason behind it.

I pressed Accept with my thumb, and raised the phone to my ear. “Jones. How you going this morning? How’s Maci?”

“You got the results back yet?” he asked. Raphael Jones never used two words when one would do, and he never wasted time when he wanted something. It was a character trait that drove a lot of people mental, but I’d always respected him for it. Even when we’d been in the middle of a non-event love-triangle for Maci’s attention.

Looking at Amanda, I released a slow sigh. “Yeah, we do.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry, mate.”

I brushed Amanda’s lip with my thumb and let out a wry grunt. “The fact that I’m not at your hotel, kicking your door in and dragging you back here to the hospital, wasn’t a giveaway you weren’t a match?”

Raphael responded with his own grunt. “Yeah. Wish to hell I was.”

“It’s all good, dude.” It wasn’t. Not at all. But there was no point ranting at the cruelty of fate. “We’re not giving up yet. Mum and Dad are being tested in Australia. There’s a strong chance one of them will be a match.”

“Your optimism never ceases to amaze me, Osmond.”

I laughed, holding Amanda’s gaze. “Of course it doesn’t. And neither do my stunning good looks and God-like strength.”

Raph chuckled. “Yeah, I’m complete amazed by those.”

A moment of silence passed between us – the silence of two guys sharing a shit situation. The silence of support and understanding.

And then Raph let out a short sigh. “When Maci wakes, we’ll grab some breakfast and come to the hospital, if you want. She’d love to meet Tanner, if we’re allowed?”

“Sure,” I answered. Inside my chest, my heart clenched at the thought of introducing my son to my friends. How many days, weeks would I have left to do that? If we didn’t find a match soon, would I even get the chance to introduce him to my family? My brother? Would he ever meet Uncle Ben? Or Heather? Heather would go nuts over him. I could see her now, damn near hyperventilating over how cheeky and gorgeous he was. Heather would play Transformers with him without hesitation. Knowing her, she’d do all the voices of all the characters and Tanner would fall completely in love with her before the game was …

A soft thumb stroking my cheek made me blink. My vision was blurring, fuzzy. My cheeks were wet. What the? I was crying? When the hell had I started crying? Amanda was smiling up at me, grief and love in her face.

In my ear, Raph called my name. “Hey, Osmond? Talk to me, dude. You okay?”

Ah fuck. Fuck, I was crumbling. I was crumbling. “I’m here, Jones,” I croaked back. Amanda touched my cheek again before sliding her arms around my waist and drawing our bodies close together, her head nestling under my chin. “But I gotta … I gotta go. Sorry.”

Another beat of silence from Raphael and then he said, “No apologies needed, mate. We’ll call you when we get to the hospital, okay?”

I nodded, my throat too tight to form words. I hung up and shoved my phone into my back pocket and then wrapped my arms around Amanda, pressed my face to the top of her head and surrendered to the raw sobs tearing at my soul.

Guys don’t do public displays of emotional weakness. We’re told from a young age boys don’t cry. We grow up believing we can’t let anyone see how we’re feeling, unless it’s an emotional response to a sporting event. We can cry in public when our team wins. That’s okay, expected even, but cry because of a pain in our hearts? Nope. Not on.

But I stood there in the hospital corridor, just outside the door leading into the Oncology department, holding Amanda in a hug that on reflection was probably crushing her ribs, and sobbed. I guess if there’s ever a place a guy can cry without censure, it’s in the children’s hospital where his son is a patient.

I don’t know how long we stood there, but eventually I got myself under control. When I pulled away, chest heaving, head throbbing, Amanda threaded her fingers into the hair at the back of my head and gazed up into my face. “I love you, Bren,” she whispered.

I swallowed. I wish I could say the unexpected, emotional outpouring had been cathartic, but truthfully, I felt drained. Raw. Beaten.

“C’mon,” she continued, stroking her thumbs over my cheeks again, her smile warm. “Let’s go find our happy.”

A few minutes later, we walked into Tanner’s room. He was awake, lying on his side, thumb in his mouth, watching a cartoon on the plasma screen. The oxygen tube feeding into his nose was green today, the tape securing it to his cheek a vivid purple. His skin was ashen, the dark smudges under his eyes speaking of a pain I couldn’t begin to fathom. He looked thinner, peaky. It made no sense that in the few hours we’d been away he could drop so much weight – all my study on the human body told me so – but he looked thinner. His Spiderman PJs seemed to swim on him. His breath left him in a rasping wheeze.

Amanda’s fingers tightened around mine. I looked at her, the terror on her face eating at me.

“Mommy!” Tanner’s happy cry scratched at my sanity. It was so full of love and yet so weak, so fragile.

I turned to him, my smile real.

“Hey, tough guy,” Amanda murmured, crossing to him. “Whatcha watching?”

He struggled into a sitting position, the IV in his arm whacking the railing on the side of his bed. His little arms went up, his gaze full of love and joy locked on Amanda’s face. “Bews cues,” he answered, wriggling his fingers in that wholly kid way of saying “Pick me up, pick me up, please.”

Amanda did, lifting him from the bed and snuggling into the side of his neck with tentative care. “Blue’s Clues, eh?” She made some kind of noise. I have no hope of describing it here. Like a ba-ba-bee-boo kind of thing. Whatever it was, it made Tanner laugh.

“Mommy,” he repeated, wrapping his arms around her head.

I’ve never seen, nor do I ever think I will see, such open, honest and true love as what I saw on Tanner’s face right then. It was beautiful. Profound.

And it tore me apart, made me furious at Charles Sinclair and his sickening legal intent.

“Da.”

At Tanner’s weak voice, at his tired smile for me, I forced down my anger, and walked over to them.

“G’day, buddy,” I touched his cheek. “Where’s Optimus?”

A spark of excitement flared in his eyes. “Oppimus.”

Movement in the corner of the room drew my attention. Chase was curled into a ball on one of the chairs, her knees tucked under her chin, her eyes closed. She squirmed about a little, rubbing at one of her eyes, and then wriggled deeper into the seat. Her hair today was the same color as Tanner’s oxygen tube.

It dawned on me her hair and his tube had been matching colors yesterday as well. Was this a thing she did? To help him feel connected to her? To make him smile?

Whatever the reason, if she hadn’t still been asleep, I would have walked over to her and hugged her. She would have groused and offered some kind of snarky comment about my hugging skills, but I would have hugged her anyway.

If life was as unfair and unjust as I was beginning to fear it was, Tanner may never get the chance to meet his Uncle Ben, but at least he’d known his Aunty Chase. And Aunty Chase was awesome.

At the sound of soft footfalls, both Amanda and I turned. A nurse entered the room, her smile wide and warm.

“Hi Amanda,” she said, keeping her voice low. “This must be Tanner’s dad?”

“Da.” Tanner pointed a finger at me. The IV tube clacked against the railing of his cot. “M’ da.”

The nurse raised her eyebrows in delighted surprise. “Oh, he’s your daddy?” she asked, her smile stretching.

Tanner nodded. “Da. Da da.”

Yeah. It felt good.

“Gemma,” Amanda placed a hand on my arm, “this is Brendon.”

Gemma turned her kilowatt-smile on me. “Brendon. You look better in the flesh than your photo.”

A dry chuckle tickled my throat. “The one of me asleep in Tanner’s bed?”

Gemma shook her head. “No, the one on Amanda’s phone. The one she shows Tanner every day.”

Oh man. For reasons I can’t explain, that felt just as good. Heart thumping hard in my throat, I gave Amanda a sideways look.

She shrugged, a light in her eyes I absolutely loved. Who was I kidding? I loved everything about her. Always had. Always would.

“How long has Tall, Colorful and Snarky been here for?” she asked Gemma, nodding toward the still sleeping Chase.

“Since four-thirty. She came in saying she couldn’t sleep at home and just wanted to be with her nephew. Tanner had a rough night, so it was good she was here. They’ve been watching cartoons.” A gentle chuckle bubbled up from her. “Well, Tanner has, haven’t you, champ? I think Chase fell asleep after the third Blue’s Clues episode.”

“Bews Cues,” Tanner agreed.

“How rough a night?” Worry filled Amanda’s voice. She drew Tanner closer to her, pressing her lips to his temple.

Gemma waved a hand I’m assuming was meant to convey a sense of calm. “He needed some medication for pain and was nauseous. The symptoms have settled down somewhat. And now you’re both here …”

A bitter sigh caught in my throat. If only our appearance at our son’s side could deal with his leukemia.

Amanda made a hitching moan, frustration twisting her face as she kissed Tanner’s temple again. “I should have been here,” she murmured, smoothing her hand over his head. “Chase should have—”

“Done exactly what she did,” Gemma interrupted, her voice tender. “Be an excellent aunt and a caring, loving sister. You need to be well to help Tanner be well, and you can’t do that if you’re not sleeping or decompressing. You know that, Amanda. Dr. Waters has spoken to you about it. As has the hospital counselor.”

Amanda slumped. I could see guilt eating at her. Self-doubt. Fear. Was she thinking of her father and his intention to claim her unfit? Was Charles’ threat now unraveling her?

The urge to find him and tell him exactly what I thought of him surged through me again. Followed just as quickly by the memory of what Amanda and I had spent the morning doing. What would Charles do if he knew while Chase sat with her sick nephew, Amanda and I were at her home, in her bed, lost to a moment of connection … lost to the beauty of our love for each other?

Guilt lashed at me and I drew in a slow breath, smoothing my hand up Amanda’s back.

Is this what she lived with every day since Tanner’s diagnosis? This guilt, this self-doubt and self-judgment over any moment of stolen normality?

Her words of yesterday morning, after Chase had revealed I was a father, came back to me.

I just wanted a little bit of normalcy for a moment. I wanted to pretend we were nothing but two young people reconnecting …

Something like that. A moment of normalcy. Making love to her this morning, being with her, had felt so perfect, so normal. As I’d lost myself to the pleasure of her body moving beneath mine, of the exquisite heat of her sex enveloping mine, for a moment, just one moment, our life hadn’t been about our sick son. It had been about us, about rebirth.

Even as guilt lanced me now, I recognized the truth in Gemma’s words. Amanda did need to decompress. And if Charles tried to use that against her, I would do everything to make his life a living hell.

“Ose, Mommy?”

“There you go,” Gemma murmured, a smile in her voice. “Someone’s hungry.”

Amanda raised her head from Tanner’s and gave him a quizzical grin. “Do you want some toast, tough guy?”

He nodded. “Ose, pees.” His expression turned solemnly serious. “And cookie.”

Gemma laughed. Chase stretched, and yawned. Smacked her lips and scratched her belly. “I’ll have a cookie too, please,” she mumbled, eyes still closed.

“Cookie!” Tanner repeated. “Cookie, Aunny Chase.”

Amanda hugged him a bit closer. “Toast we can do.”

Her eyes shone with unshed tears. I could feel my own prickling at the back of my eyes.

“Egemite,” Tanner crowed, pressing his hands to either side of her face to make her look at him. “Egemite.”

“Yuck,” Chase grumbled from the seat, now sitting more upright, her eyes half open. “Not that disgusting stuff.”

The fact my son was trying to say Vegemite made me want to swoop him out of Amanda’s arms and swing him around in glee.

Hot resolve and stubborn determination licked through me. One day, I would.

“Ose, Mommy.” Tanner pressed her cheeks firmer, his brow furrowed with serious intensity. “Egemite ose.”

Amanda sighed. “Baby, you know you can’t have Vegemite toast here.”

Tanner’s frown grew fiercer. His breathing grew wheezier. “Ose, Mommy,” he repeated, the words shaky. “Egemite ose.”

Amanda shook her head, smoothing her hand over his head. “Baby, we can’t …”

“Ose, Mommy,” Tanner said again, although this time the words weren’t just shaky but thick with tears. “Ose, ose.” And then he threw himself against her, crying.

“Oh, baby,” Amanda cradled him closer, gently swinging side to side. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. We’ll have toast when you’re better, okay? When we can go home. Okay?”

“Home,” he mumbled against the side of her neck, even as he shook his head. “’Sokay. Home now peez? Home?”

Fuck, I had to drive my blunt nails into my palms, I had to hurt myself to stop from crying. I’d known him for such a short time, and I’d seen his strength, his childlike joy and happiness, and that had torn me apart. But standing here, listening to my son plead to go home …

Fuck, I couldn’t …

Chase jolted to her feet, glaring at her sister. Her eyes were glistening. Without uttering a word, she signed something at Amanda, walked over to Tanner and, with a kiss on the back of the head, left the room.

“What is she …?” I looked at the door Chase had just stomped through. Back to Amanda. “Where’s she …?”

Eyes closed, Amanda pressed her lips to Tanner’s temple. “She’s going to the cafeteria to get some toast. After she drives back to my place to get the Vegemite from the kitchen counter.”

Remember when I said I wanted to hug Chase? I wanted to run after her and do it even more.

“Home,” Tanner mumbled, clinging to Amanda. Tears tracked his pale cheeks, followed the plastic tube of his oxygen supply and pooled there. “Home peez?”

“Soon, tough guy,” Amanda whispered, her gaze finding mine, her own cheeks wet. “Soon, I promise. All three of us, going home soon.”

Tanner raised his head from her shoulder, cupped her face in his hands again, and frowned at her. “Pomiss?”

She nodded. “Promise.”

Until that point, I didn’t think I could hurt in the heart any more than I had. I was wrong.

“Hey,” Amanda said suddenly, giving Tanner a little hitch on her hip and grinning widely at me. Pain still swam in her eyes. Raw and open. But her grin, it was wide and infectious. “Think we can sing the Spiderman song for Daddy?”

“Piderman!” He sang, the tears so recently falling from his eyes dropping from his cheeks. “Piderman! Piderman, tha a piderman!”

I laughed. Hidden in the happy sound was a cry.

And then Parker Waters walked into the room and I wanted to cry all over again.

My parents’ results were in. And neither of them were a match.