“She’s having a rough week,” my son said, zipping the bag. “I told her I’d be there by four.”
I nodded and reached for my coffee.
“You’re going again today?”
“Tell Diane I said hi. I texted her yesterday, and she barely wrote back,” I told my son.
Aaron paused, just for a second.
“She’s tired, Mom.”
“I know, baby.”
But I’d noticed.
***
My best friend’s replies had been shrinking for weeks. A thumbs-up where there used
Aaron visited his girlfriend every day he could, brought her favorite snacks, helped her with schoolwork, watched bad movies with her, and spent countless hours by her side until she fell asleep.
***
“You’re going again today?” I asked, although I already knew.
“She’s having a rough week,” my son said, zipping the bag. “I told her I’d be there by four.”
I nodded and reached for my coffee.
“You’re going again today?”
“Tell Diane I said hi. I texted her yesterday, and she barely wrote back,” I told my son.
Aaron paused, just for a second.
“She’s tired, Mom.”
“I know, baby.”
But I’d noticed.
***
My best friend’s replies had been shrinking for weeks. A thumbs-up where there used
One evening, I was folding laundry in the living room when I heard Aaron’s footsteps on the stairs. Something about the rhythm felt different: slower and deliberate. I looked up, and the basket slipped from my hands!
Lily’s treatments started taking a visible toll.
My son’s head was completely shaved! Not trimmed or buzzed short, but smooth, pale, and unfamiliar under the lamplight.
“Aaron,” I breathed as he came downstairs. “What did you do?”
He ran a hand over his scalp, almost shy.
