“Mum, Dad, hello, you asked us to come overwhats happened?” Emily burst into her parents flat with her husband, Oliver, their faces tight with concern.
The truth was, it had been coming for a while. Mum had been illsomething serious, stage two Shed gone through chemotherapy, then radiotherapy. Thered been remission, her hair growing back in soft wisps. But it seemed the relief had been short-lived. Lately, shed been fading again.
“Emily, Oliver, good eveningcome in,” Mum murmured, pale and small like a girl, her fingers trembling as she gestured them inside.
“Kids, sit down. Weve got an unusual request,” Dad said, his voice unsteady. “Hear your mother out.”
Emily and Oliver perched on the sofa, their eyes fixed on Mum. MargaretMumtook a shaky breath and glanced at Dad, Brian, as if steeling herself.
“Emily, Oliver dont be alarmed, but Ive got a strange thing to ask you. A big favour.” She hesitated, then clasped her hands together. “Would youcould youadopt a little boy for us? They wont let us, not at our age, and with everything else.”
Silence.
Emily was the first to speak.
“Mum youll be surprised. Weve been meaning to tell youOliver and I, weve wanted a son. But weve got the girlsyour granddaughters. And theres no guarantee the next one would be a boy. Besides the doctors said no more pregnancies. The last C-section was risky. Weve even talked about adopting a little boy ourselves.”
Mums eyes widened. “Emily, I dont even know where to start,” she whispered, running a hand over her patchy regrowth. “The thing is Ive gotten worse. Then my old friend, Auntie Norayou remember her? The one with the mole over her eyeshe came by. Its gone now. She went to see Granny May in the countryside. People travel from all over to see her. She convinced me to go, too.”
Emily and Oliver listened, breath held, though they didnt quite follow.
“So, kids,” Mum continued, “Granny May asked me right awayDo you have a son? When I told her no, just you, Emily, and the girls, she pressed meAnd before your daughter? What happened then?”
Emily stiffened. No one knew about the miscarriage. No one but Mum and Dad.
“A boy,” Mum whispered. “Your brother. He didnt make it.” Her fingers twisted the hem of her jumper. “Granny May saidAdopt a boy. Then she just walked away. And I broke down, like I owed him something. Like I had to make it right.”
She looked up, her eyes wet. “And I realisedI *want* to. We *can* give a little boy love, warmth, everything. Not just for my health. Because its right. Do you understand?”
Emily flung her arms around her. “Mum, I *do*. Well do it.”
Theyd already spoken to the care homethey wanted a little boy. Mum and Dad came too. In the playroom, toddlers sat on the carpet, stacking blocks.
“Mum, look at that onethe blond, building the tower. Hes got your focus,” Emily whispered.
But thena small voice from the corner.
A boy, older than the rest, stood alone. His words were soft, uncertain.
“Are you talking to us?” Mum asked gently.
He stepped forward. “Please take me. I promise you wont regret it.”
The paperwork was quick. They adopted James. The girls adored their new brother. He called Emily and Oliver *Mum* and *Dad*but when he visited Margaret and Brian, he called her *Mum Margaret*. She never corrected him.
When the doctors pressed for another round of treatment, Mum agreed. But she worsened. James would stroke her short hair, his eyes wide.
“Mum Margaret, why are you sick? I want you to get better.”
“I dont know, sweetheart. But Ill try.”
Then came the surgery. The waiting was agony. Brian paced, phone clenched in his hand.
He didnt notice James was missing until he found him in their bedroom, curled around Mums dressing gown, sobbing.
*”Mum Margaret, dont go. Please. I dont want to lose you again.”*
The phone rang.
The surgeons voice was exhausted. Brians heart lurched
Then, relief.
“She made it. It was closelike someone was watching over her.”
Brian pulled James into a crushing hug. “Shes alive, son. Shes alive.”
