I guide my son, our son, to Mack’s room with a little spring in my step. Maybe all of this was just the storm before the rainbow. Maybe Chris will go back to being the sweet kid I knew before Joel was taken away from us. Maybe … Mack’s room is empty.
Of course it is.
My hopes begin to tumble like a tower of Jenga blocks. They’re probably built on a foundation just as stable.
“Nurse Brickman, so nice to see you!”
I wheel around to the direction of Mack’s familiar voice and my heart soars. I need to get off this emotional roller coaster. These two guys are killing me.
Chris turns around and a smile brighter than the North Star spreads over his face. “No way! Captain America? I mean, uh, Captain, uh, what’s your real name again?”
Mack laughs and I can’t help but smile. “You know, people have been calling me Captain America for so long now, I almost forgot it myself. The name’s Forrester. Mack Forrester. You can call me Mack, if you want.” He extends his hand to Chris and I feel a swell of pride as I watch our boy try his best to return a manly handshake.
I look at the smile on Chris’s face and over to the same one on Mack. Mirror images. The resemblance is so obvious; I can’t help but wonder if Mack has connected the dots just by glancing at him.
“I’m Chris,” our son shakes Mack’s hand and lets go. For a second, neither of them talks. My heart is thudding hard as I wonder if they can see the features they share.
“It’s nice to meet you. Your mother speaks very highly of you,” Mack finally answers. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
Chris looks over at me and raises an eyebrow in silent skepticism.
“It’s true,” I manage to croak. Between the fear of Mack calling me out on paternity and the overwhelming joy of watching my guys meet for the first time, I’m barely keeping it together.
“So, Chris …” Mack trails off like he’s thinking it all through.
Here we go.
“Your mom has been putting me through the paces, teaching me how to use my new running blade. Would you like to come down to the track with me so I can show her how I’m kicking her physio program’s ass?”
Chris snorts at Mack’s language and I shoot his father a look.
“I mean its butt. Kicking its butt,” Mack corrects himself and gives Chris a wink.
“I’d love to. Can I?” He looks over to me with his soulful eyes, giving me his best puppy dog stare.
“Yes, of course,” I nod. I can’t help but grin at how excited Chris is. If he wasn’t already too cool for school, he’d probably be jumping up and down like a kid on a bouncy castle.
“Alright, let me get changed and grab my blade and we’ll head out.”
Obviously, Mack has a plan. I’m not sure what it is, but I trust him. It’s nice to see Chris excited about something again. I let myself imagine a world where Chris and Mack get along like this all the time. A world where the smiles on our faces don’t feel new anymore. A world where the three of us are together like this all of the time.
As a family.
18
Mack
2014
“You into track and field in school?” I ask Lauren’s son as I sit on the bench and attach my blade.
“Nah, I used to but I don’t anymore.” he shrugs.
“Do you play any sports?” I secure the prosthesis and check it over.
“Yeah, I still play football a lot. I wanna get on the school team when I get to middle school. I’m pretty good,” he says, proudly squaring his shoulders back in a move I’ve seen Lauren do a hundred times.
I’ve never had much experience with kids. When my brother, Ben, was killed in the attack on the twin towers, my chances of becoming an uncle died along with him. So, I wasn’t sure how this was going to go today. However, talking with Chris is easy. Even though he’s only nine, I feel like I’m chatting with an old friend. Something about the way he talks, it’s familiar. I guess that’s to be expected from Lauren’s child though.
“I love football. What’s your team? The Broncos?”
“Yeah, but I also like the Seahawks,” his eyes shine.
“Well, ya got good taste then. Ok, so whaddya say you and I hit the track for a little race? I’ve gotta warn you, I’m not one of those guys that’s going to go easy on you because of your age. I’d get prepared to eat a little dust,” I throw a little smack talk his way.
“As if! Even if you didn’t have that thing,” he points to my blade, “I’d still beat someone as old as you!” And he chucks it right back. I like this kid.