Mum, Dad, hello, you asked us to come over, whats happening? Marilyn and her husband Tom burst into the parents flat.
In fact the trouble began weeks ago. Mum has been ill, diagnosed with a serious disease, stage two.
She has finished a round of chemotherapy and then radiation. Shes in remission and her hair has started to grow back, but its still far too early to relax; her condition is worsening again.
Marilyn, Tom, good evening, come in, mum says, pale and thin, looking almost like a child.
Children, have a seat, dad adds, a little flustered. We have an unusual request, please listen to Mum.
Marilyn and Tom sit on the sofa, eyes fixed on Mum. Irene sighs, glances at Brian as if seeking support.
Marilyn, Tom, dont be surprised, I have a rather odd ask. In short were begging you.
Please adopt a boy for us, please! Were too old now, and there are other reasons.
A heavy silence follows.
First, their daughter speaks up:
Mum, I think youll be shocked, weve been meaning to tell you for ages but were scared. Tom and I really want a son, and we already have two girls your granddaughters.
Theres no guarantee the third child will be a boy, but it isnt just that. My health isnt what it used to be, Im having a Caesarean and the doctors say I shouldnt have any more children. Weve even thought about adopting a little boy from a childrens home.
A son to bring into our family, a sweet little lad. And now you say the same thing to us, Mum. Where do you get these ideas?
Marilyn, I dont even know where to start, Irene runs a trembling hand through the new hair sprouting on her head my condition has deteriorated again.
Then my old work friend, Aunt Nancy, walked in. Remember her? She used to have a large mole over one eye that almost covered it. Doctors warned it might turn malignant. Yet now Nancy is here, the mole gone, looking fine.
Shed just been to her motherinlaw, Grandma Betty, in the countryside, and theyd chatted. Aunt Nancy then suggested we go see Betty, who helps people from all over the country. I thought, what am I missing, so we drove over.
Marilyn and Tom listen, breath held, but they dont quite follow where shes heading.
So, children, Irene continues, Grandma Betty asked me a strange question: do I have a son?
When she heard I have one daughter, Marilyn, and two beloved granddaughters, Molly and Lucy, Grandma Betty pressed, and what about the other child?
Im stunned, because no one but Brian and I know I had a lateterm miscarriage. There should have been a boy, my firstborn, for you, Marilyn.
But the baby didnt survive, Irene fidgets with the edge of her shirt.
What now? Marilyn looks at Mum with wide eyes.
Then do as Grandma Betty said: adopt a boy. Im crying as if Im to blame for not keeping my first son, my firstborn, alive.
Now I must give another child warmth and love, to restore the balance weve lost.
And I realised I truly want this. Brian and I can give a child everything he needs warmth, love, a home.
It isnt just about my recovery. I genuinely want to save a little life from orphanhood and loneliness. You understand?
Mum, I get you and Im with you all the way, Marilyn says, tears streaming, lets do it!
Marilyn and Tom had already spoken with the director of the local childrens home about adopting a little boy, and they were invited to meet the children.
Irene and Brian, of course, went too. In the playroom, on a carpet, children three years old and up were laughing and building towers.
Mum, look, that blond boy looks like you, see how carefully he stacks his blocks? He even stuck out his tongue in concentration, Marilyn points quietly at a youngster on the floor.
Irene looks and likes him too. Then, from a corner, a faint voice is heard.
Irene turns in the side of the room stands an older boy with sad eyes, whispering.
Are you talking to us? Speak up a bit, I cant hear, Irene asks.
The boy steps closer and repeats, Auntie, please take me, I promise youll never regret it. Take me
Marilyn and Tom quickly complete the paperwork and adopt the boy, Nik. Molly and Lucy are thrilled to have a little brother.
Nik settles in fast, calling Marilyn and Tom Mum and Dad. He often visits Grandma Irene and Granddad Brian, who live nearby, and he can walk to school from there.
He calls Irene oddly Mum Irene, not Grandma. She watches him, feeling as if hes the son she lost.
Doctors push Irene to start a new treatment course, but it does little; she feels worse.
Nik looks into her eyes, strokes his short hair.
Mum Irene, why are you sick? I want you to get better!
I dont know, Nik, thats how it goes, but Ill try to recover, I promise you, Irene smiles at the nickname he gave her.
Brian talks to the surgeon, who insists on an operation.
What are the odds? Brian asks.
The doctor doesnt mince words:
Fiftyfifty. Well do everything we can, and that will save her.
Brian and Irene decide to go ahead.
On the day of the operation everyone is on edge. Marilyn keeps calling Brian. He arranges with the surgeon to be updated as soon as anything is clear, and Brian is like a live wire.
He cant immediately locate Nik. He finds the boy in their bedroom, beside Irenes robe.
Nik didnt hear Brian enter; hes on the floor, his face buried in the robe, crying and whispering,
Mum Irene, dont go, I dont want to lose you again, please! I want you with me forever, Mum Irene!
The phone rings, startling both Brian and Nik.
The doctors voice is tired and bleak, and Brians heart feels like its being squeezed.
Is this it? Did Irene not survive the operation?
Brian? This is Dr. Michael Hughes. The surgery was complex, but it went well. Your wife pulled through.
She was on a razors edge; Ive never seen anything like it, as if some higher force helped her when her life seemed about to slip away.
Congratulations, it looks like she has more time, theres still a reason to keep fighting
Thank you, thank you, doctor! Brian hugs Nik.
You get it, everythings fine, Mum Irene is alive! Were so lucky youre here, little one.
Sorry, I heard you asking for Mum Irene, thank you, my dear son!
