“I don’t think he’s got much time left,” Jane said in an unfamiliar, cold tone. “Go see the doctor yourself if you don’t believe me. They’ve got nurses and all the facilities he needs. The whole hospice idea isn’t for nothing; everyone does it…”
Liam was born two months premature and was immediately taken to intensive care. At first, nothing was said, but then there was hope—he started breathing on his own and began to gain weight. Even when he was discharged, he was so tiny that David feared to hold him, worrying he might hurt him somehow. But when Liam woke up and cried softly at night, Jane wouldn’t get up to him, leaving David to adapt somehow. Jane refused to take him to the doctors, claiming they were the reason for all this despite her having done all the right tests and ultrasounds that suggested nothing was wrong. But was this really fine? Three months old and he couldn’t even hold his own head up.
David managed to make all the appointments himself, attended confusing consultations, and took his son for tests, squeezing his eyes shut like a child every time the nurse struggled to find a vein. Eventually, he reached geneticists in the county medical center who explained that Liam could be helped, but he needed special medications. That’s why David took a job away; a friend had been urging him for money was good, but Jane wouldn’t agree. This time, though, he had no choice. He left, thinking Liam and Jane were managing well. How wrong he was. Even his grandmother hadn’t told him the full story, though he sensed she was hiding something.
“It’s all alright, dear, you just focus on work,” she’d repeat.
As it turned out, it was his grandmother who had been visiting Liam in the hospital all this time—talking to him, applying cream against bedsores, and giving him massages. Meanwhile, Jane went back to work but hadn’t mentioned it to him. She confessed only when David announced he was coming home for a month’s leave.
“Jane, he’s our son!” he protested. “What about hospice? I’m working for a reason! The doctor said the medications…”
“What medications!” Jane screeched. “Have you even seen him? You’ve been gone for half a year, so don’t tell me what to do! I’m still young, and I want to live for myself. We can have another child. I don’t want to spend my life changing diapers!”
Jane’s younger brother had cerebral palsy, and when David met her, he was impressed by how such a delicate and refined woman could carry her brother, settle him in a chair, and read him stories. It was why he loved her. But it seemed Jane could only love her brother.
“If you don’t bring our son home, I’ll file for divorce,” David threatened.
“Go ahead! That’s no threat at all! I’ve managed without you all this time and I can carry on.”
David didn’t believe she’d actually leave. But Jane left even before he returned, left. She handed the apartment keys to his grandmother, who had long suspected everything, yet told nothing to David—all those months Jane found someone else to live with.
“Don’t worry, dear, we’ll manage. I’ll help you with Liam, but you’ll need to find work closer to home. I can’t handle it all by myself.”
David understood this well—his grandmother was unwell and needed care herself, but he couldn’t repay her kindness with a split attention.
His grandmother had raised David. His mother, a relatively successful singer, had brought him to her mother’s home for a month but never returned for him. She’d sent money regularly while he was in school but later seemed to decide he was old enough to manage alone. In his youth, David thought his mother loved him but had a complex life full of concerts, recordings, and fans. He even went to her concert once—brought a huge bouquet of roses, dreaming of gifting them to her, and imagined her recognizing him and announcing from the stage—this is my son!
Things didn’t go that way. At first, she didn’t notice him. Then, she took the bouquet without even a glance and tossed it aside. David had spent almost his entire paycheck on those roses. After the concert, he managed to push his way backstage, attempting to explain he was her son, but his mother didn’t see him. She sent word that she was tired and would call him. He waited by the phone for a month, but she never did.
David didn’t think about her anymore, and if her song played on the radio, he’d switch the station, though he’d known them all by heart before. Now his grandmother became a mother to Liam too—she looked after him as best she could, while David took a job with normal hours so she wouldn’t be too tired. Jane didn’t even call—worse than his mother—who at least pretended to acknowledge David existed occasionally.
“David, I had such a vivid dream today,” his grandmother shared once. “Your grandfather, bless him, asked me to fetch him some water from the well. I said—how can I, when I can’t walk! And he said—here everyone walks. I looked down and saw the grass—so green and soft like a downy quilt. I was able to walk across it without pain! I drew water and looked into the well one last time. And there you were, in a suit and tie, with a lovely young lady next to you, dimples on her cheeks. In a veil. I just feel it’s a sign—you’ll find a good wife, not like that flighty girl!”
“Granny, what wife! If even Liam’s mother wouldn’t look after him, who would?”
The next day, his grandmother didn’t wake up. So the dream was prophetic, but not in the way she’d envisioned—it was she who now fetched water for grandfather, not little Liam.
David had no idea what to do next. His mother helped with the funeral, even came in person, but he still had to spend a lot, too embarrassed to ask her for more. But a few weeks later, his mother called herself and said:
“I’ve found a caregiver for your son. I’ll pay for it; don’t worry.”
Her generosity astonished David; at first, he wanted to refuse, saying he needed nothing from her, but after reconsideration, pride had no place when Liam’s medicine was running out.
For some reason, he expected an experienced older woman—the type he’d often seen in hospitals when visiting Liam, all practical and knowing like a younger version of his grandmother. But, no, it seemed his mother decided to economize—she sent a fresh graduate who confessed this was her first job.
“Don’t worry, I took special courses and can do everything,” she said enthusiastically, though her voice quivered.
He considered calling his mother to say this young girl wouldn’t handle Liam, but he didn’t want to talk to her either. So David decided to wait and see, maybe the courses were indeed worthwhile.
The young lady was named Mary. She called him every thirty minutes.
“David, is it normal that he’s hiccupping?”
“Hold him upright. And place something warm against his back, a towel heated with iron will do.”
“David, he’s breathing so heavily, I’m scared!”
“Mary, use the inhaler—I told you about it…”
And so it went.
However, within a couple of weeks, she’d settled into the role and managed better. David had to switch jobs—she worked only till six, and he needed time to get back home. He took a job in construction, with flexible hours, paid under the table. They promised good money, but when…
Weekends were now David’s time with his son—Mary wouldn’t even work overtime for extra pay because, apparently, she was studying Chinese for an internship there, to learn acupuncture. She was amusing, this Mary, naive, not like his grandmother who always believed the TV, while Mary trusted the internet.
For Liam’s birthday, however, Mary turned up on her day off too—she brought him a helium balloon, which he loved, and a hand-knitted jumpsuit. David was touched and asked her to join them for tea—he’d bought a cake for the occasion. Then they went for a stroll—dressed Liam in the new suit, put him in a pram, and tied the balloon to it, so he could watch it. David knew, painfully, that his son might not live to see another birthday, and the thought made it hard to breathe. But at that moment, as he wheeled him down the sunny street, with the balloon floating gently upwards in the autumn breeze, he felt at peace.
David noticed Jane too late, only when they stopped at a pedestrian crossing and he caught sight of her painted face, standing with friends nearby, seemingly headed to some event. She hadn’t noticed him immediately either, and when she did, her expression flushed with blotchy redness. She turned away, said something to her companions, and hurried across the street.
“Who’s that?” Mary asked, noting his tense demeanor.
David exhaled slowly and replied:
“No one.”
“Well, that’s good,” she said with a smile.
He hadn’t seen her smile before. Dimples played on Mary’s cheeks, triggering a flash of memory that he couldn’t quite place. Against the backdrop of the blue sky, the balloon danced as vigorously as his heart.
Payday was elusive. The medication was running out and David was cornered—he had to call his mother.
“Haven’t I done enough for you?” she asked, irritated. “Do you know how much I’m paying that girl? What kind of man can’t earn enough for his own child’s medicine?”
Shame seized David, constricting his breath. Could he really not support his own son? He turned off his phone and bowed his head, yearning for his grandmother to come over, place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and tell him everything would be okay…
Then he heard a soft knock, and Mary appeared at the kitchen door holding an envelope.
“Here,” she said, placing it on the table.
“What’s this?” David asked, puzzled.
“It’s for Liam’s medicine.”
He couldn’t comprehend what she meant.
“Your mother paid me well. I was saving for a trip to China, but I don’t need it—I live with my parents, I have everything I need.”
“But what about your trip…” David was lost.
Mary shrugged.
“Where would I go now…”
She smiled shyly, dimples reappearing in her cheeks. Instantly, David recalled his grandmother’s dream. He blushed to the roots of his hair, unsure why.
“Please, take it,” she insisted. “It’s the right thing.”
“I’ll repay every penny,” David croaked, gathering himself. “And since you’re not going to China, maybe you’d like to come over this weekend? Like last time…”
Mary beamed and said:
“With pleasure…”
