Page 106 of SnowBound

I lifted my baby boy into my arms, and he grabbed the device from my grip. Before either Ellie or I could say something, he planted a kiss on the screen. “Lili,” he singsonged in a small sleepy voice.

“Oh my goodness, I miss you so much, little guy. Auntie Lili will come to visit you soon, okay?”

He bobbed his head a couple of times before pointing to his right ear. “Booboo.”

“Your ear hurts?” Ellie asked.

Once again, Alexi bobbed his head. “Ouch.”

“I know, sweetie. I’ll let you go with your mama, and she’s gonna take good care of you.” Her attention drifted to me. “If you need anything, money or for me to hire a babysitter, you’ll tell me, right?” Her face bore no room for arguments.

“Yes. But I won’t.” Each month, since the day I’d moved out of my parents’ house, she had been asking me the same question. And every time, except once, I refused her help. I owed her five hundred bucks, and as soon as I had a little bit of savings, I would reimburse her. She kept saying it wasn’t a loan but a gift. Blame it on my pride, I didn’t like the idea of being a charity case. So, one day, I’ll pay my friend back. The entire amount. Plus interest.

“I don’t know how you do it all on your own. Again, you’re a superwoman, Abby, and my idol. I’m so proud of you.”

Tears pooled in my eyes. I was exhausted. Both physically and mentally. “Thanks. It means a lot.”

In my arms, Alexi rested his head in the crook of my neck and started moaning in pain. My lips lingered on the side of his head.

“Go, take care of him,” Ellie said, her eyes full of concern.

“I’ll be okay, I swear. Don’t worry about me. Keep me updated about the developments in Tom’s and your story. I’ll live vicariously through you.”

“I will. We’re supposed to chat later. Try to take some time off for yourself. You really look like shi—you really look awful. Bye. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

After Alexi took his medicine and had eaten pieces of a toast—he grimaced when I tried to feed him watermelon, something his daddy and he had in common—we settled ourselves on the couch as I rocked him in my arms. With my eyes closed, I sang to him. His arms, which were holding me tight, relaxed around me, and his breathing slowed. Switching positions, I lay on my side and decided a nap would be beneficial for both of us. After I set the alarm on my phone, I drifted into a dreamless slumber.

* * *

“What do you mean?” I asked Dr. Philibert in a shaky voice as we sat in his office, a sterile room with bluish-white walls and chrome and glossy white Formica furniture. We weren’t in his usual child-friendly office with lime-green walls and colorful accessories that Alexi and I got to know over the last year. No, this room felt more like a you have three months left to live kinda room. Where cancer patients got their final diagnosis. The first step toward the dark tunnel. And it sent chills through me.

I fastened my cardigan before holding myself up with my arms, trying to inject some warmth into my body. And much-needed comfort. Through a small window, I peeked at Alexi, busy playing with his toy cars with a nurse because Dr. Philibert had insisted we have an adult chat without interruption.

“As I was saying, according to all the tests we have run so far…”

His words didn’t even reach my ears the first time. I asked him to repeat himself so I could register everything he said.

I nodded and made some unconvincing Mmm-hmm sounds while he scrolled through a tablet, showing me data and graphs I had no interest in.

“As you can see, Ms. Peña, we have options. We’ll run more tests, and as Alexi grows older, we’ll know more about the condition. Often, with a diagnosis like his, it gets better with age. As the body matures. But I don’t want you to get your hopes up. As the pictures I showed you minutes ago, his case is a tricky one. And it wasn’t the results I expected.”

“Will-will he—?” I couldn’t convince myself to ask the question out loud. As if asking would make it true.

The doctor’s hand squeezed mine on the top of the desk for a quick second. “The truth?”

I nodded, staring into his eyes to make sure he wasn’t bullshitting me.

He shook his head once and sighed. “We don’t know. And it’s hard to tell without further testing two or three years in the future.”

My gaze drifted back to my baby playing in the other room, not aware of the burden of the news the ENT had delivered just now.

“I can refer you to support groups. Or other families who have gone through the same ordeal. We have information sessions here at the hospital once every other month. You won’t be alone. We have an entire team who will support you in this transition. And new reality.”

My eyes stayed wide as if blinded by headlights in the middle of the night on a dark street.

“Do you have family who can help you out? Alexi’s father perhaps. His grandparents?”