The Boy That Stole My Heart

CHAPTER SIX

          I was up early the next morning, before the sun and sitting in the little breakfast nook my mom had installed in the kitchen for the family to eat together though we had never used it. Leaning my head against the window, I watched the stars disappear one by one, betting against myself about which would be the last one standing as the sky began to lighten. The dark childish haze of hate, anger, and resentment that had tormented me for so long slowly began to lift, leaving behind the confused, ashamed little boy inside of me that I never knew existed.
           "Oh my goodness!" My mother cried, startling me as I had her and I turned to find her leaned against the kitchen island, dressed for work with her briefcase in one hand and the other sitting on her chest atop her heart in an attempt to slow it's beating. "Ellister! I didn't see you there."
           I smiled. "Sorry mom, I was just watching the sunrise."
           "Oh, that's...." Weird? Strange? Idiosyncratic? "Nice." She hesitated for a moment before walking over to me. "Sweetie, are you okay?"
           The short answer was no. I was embarrassed and ashamed that I had put the people who loved me most in this world through so much but I was relieved that I still had a chance to make things right. "I'm good mom... I really am."
           I offered her the same words as always, the only difference this time... For the first time, I was telling the truth and I think she could see it in my face because she smiled at that moment and she wasn't a big smiler. When you received a smile from her it meant something.
          "How about... I make you some breakfast?" She asked me and I felt my heart warm at the offer.
          "That's okay mom. I know how busy you are."
          She flinched and I realized that while I hadn't meant to insult her, my words had cut deep. "No.... No, I will never be so busy that I can't make my son breakfast. How about pancakes?"
           I had to swallow the lump of emotion in my throat before I could answer her, my voice little more than a croak. "That sounds great."
          In the span of only a few minutes, my mother had discarded her briefcase and blazer along with the hard ass power attorney facade and took on the told of mom while I did away with the hateful, ungrateful son routine. We turned on some music, mixed batter, and cracked eggs. It was nice.
           "I'm sorry mom," I said softly. "I've been so awful."
           There was a clink of a bowl being set down and then her hands were on my shoulders, turning me to face her. "No. Don't you ever think that. You were a child with too much going on inside, things you didn't understand how to deal with and it is my job to help you, one I neglected in favor of work. I wasn't here when you needed me and I missed so much more than I ever intended, including the man that you were becoming... But you know what? I couldn't be more proud of you Ellister."
           The tears were large and hot as they spilled down my cheeks and she brushed the hair from my face, pulling me into a tight hug. I couldn't remember the last time that I had cried, that I had a conversation with her where I wasn't hateful, that we had hugged.
          "How about we both try a little harder?" I offered a way of truce.
          "I don't know what this is but I want in on it," my father said from out of nowhere, his arms suddenly around us, lifting us both into the air and spinning us around the kitchen
           Unlike me and my mother, outside of work my dad was always dad. He was always the same loving, supportive guy, one I think we both underappreciated.
          "Oh my, when did you get so sexy?" He asked my mom, making her giggle like a schoolgirl as he scooped her up and kissed her.
          I rolled my eyes. "Ah, c'mon man. Gross."
          "Nope," he said turning his attention to me. "My dominance is being threatened by your height. You must grow smaller."
           "Dad!" I cried as he grabbed me and tried to squish me to the ground like a flattened Mario.
           We sat at the table together, waiting for my mom to finish breakfast, him sipping coffee and me orange juice. "Dad, tell me about.. uh, prime.. immunity... Uh,... Tell me about P.I."
           He sat the cup down and his face grew serious as he made the transition from dad to a John Hopkins trained surgeon. Prime immunodeficiency."
           "Yes, tell me about it please."
           "People with P.I. have an immune system that doesn't function correctly. They grow sick easily and it is much harder for them to fight off infections. "
             I shifted uncomfortably. "Is.. is it..."
            "Fatal? No," my father answered the question without forcing me to finish it. "Not in the traditional sense. When people die it is from the complications associated with it."
            "What complications?"
            "Frequent and recurring pneumonia, infections, internal inflammation. The list is quite long." He informed me with the cold hard demeanor of a doctor and not of a father attempting to comfort his son. "It can also lead to blood disorders, low platelet count, anemia."
           I felt a bit sick. I had seen the mask.. the diaper... The sanitizer.. but now I was realizing just how serious this was. All of this, resting on the shoulders of such a small boy who bore it with a smile and without complaint while I had been running around crying about how life was stacked against me. I felt more ashamed than ever.
            "I know you are worried for Logan but don't worry. There are plenty of things you can do to keep him safe."
           I looked up at my father. "Like what?"
           "It's all relatively simple. Things normal people neglect. Wash your hands. Antibacterial soap is your best friend. Brush your teeth. Get him exercise. See? Simple. One other thing.. the most important," he said as my mom sat plates in front of us. "Don't ever treat him as he's less than you. Respect him. Respect his disorder. But always remember that he is a boy just like you."
             "Got it..... Thanks dad."