58 | October• 2018WHO WILL YOU BE TO ME?Tu r t l e s. And he tossed balls. At other
times, when he was still or thought no
one was looking, it seemed that the
earth’spullwasjustalittlestronger
wherehestood,tuggingthecorners
of his mouth downwards, making his
eyes years older than seven birthdays
would imply.JUST AS I WAS ABOUTto put the
last of the pictures in the box, Max
pressed hisfingeroncemoretoa
face.“Andwhowillthis
be to me?”
Beneath his finger I
could see the edges of
my own face. My heart
swelled. This son of
the man I loved was
becoming my son. We’d
have family Christmas
cards and school art
stuckbymagnetstothe
fridge. I’d make treat
bags at birthday par-
ties,snappicturesatgraduations.I
wasbecomingamotherbutwithout
thebenefitofagrowingbellyora
baby shower to prepare me.
I should have known the answer
to his simple question. I should have
known how to say just the right, wise,
magical thing. But I didn’t. “Well, what
do you think?”
Max shrugged. Then he looked
away, and I knew it was my job toield
this one. “I’ll be your second mum,” I
said.
“Oh.”whenhewasafamilyfriend,andhow
hewouldknowmeinthefuture.
“DiandJimwillbeyourauntand
uncle. Megan and Matt will be your
cousins.”
“Sweet,” he said, looking into my
facefortheirsttimesincehe’den-
teredtheroom.Hiseyeswerechoco-
latepools,histhick,darkhairasleek,
shinycoatthatmademewanttorun
my ingers over it. “I don’t have any
boycousins.Andhowabout him?”
“That’smybrother
John. He’ll be another
uncle.”
We sor ted stack s of
aunts and uncles, cous-
ins and friends.
“Wow, you have a lot
of people,” Max said
withasigh.
“IsupposeIdo.”
He began to finger
through the stacks,
messing up what I’d
already sorted, but my original task
no longer mattered. As we neared the
bottom of the stack, a honey-thick
warmth began to ill me. Perhaps my
family was to be the dowry I’d bring to
this little boy who had lost so much.
“Whoa,” he exclaimed, laughing at
my third-grade photo, the one where
my hair had been expanded to new di-
mensions by an especially humid day.
Atmomentslikethis,Maxwas
justalittleboy,buoyantwithenergy,
easywithalaugh.HeplayedLego
and watchedTeenage Mutant Ninja
Ishouldhave
known how to
sayjustthe
right, wise,
magical thing,
but I didn’t