Charles’ nostrils flared.
I turned to Amanda before he could respond. “I’d like to see Tanner now.”
She nodded.
Flicking her father a quick look, she squeezed my fingers tighter and led me into the room he guarded.
I noticed three things the moment I entered the small space: the walls were covered with images of colorful balloons and equally colorful birds; there was medical equipment everywhere, beeping and whirring constantly; and in the middle of the room was a high bed, on which sat Chase and a little boy with his back to me. He was wearing Optimus Prime pajamas.
My feet stopped working. I think my heart did as well. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.
“Tanner,” Chase said, tapping him gently on the knee as she directed a grin my way, “look who’s here.”
The little boy twisted on the bed to look where Chase was now pointing, and everything I’d ever felt in my life to that point – everything – faded to insignificance.
Gone was the blond Mohawk of the photo I’d seen earlier, but not the devilish delight in his face, despite the oxygen tube threaded into his right nostril and taped to his cheek.
Oh God, he was beautiful.
Blue eyes flittered over me, a curious frown pulling at his forehead for a second before his gaze found Amanda.
“Mommy!” Pure love and joy filled his face. He wriggled about, raising his hands – his little pudgy-fingered hands – toward Amanda. “Mommy.”
Amanda went to him. In two steps, she was on the bed with him, folding him into her body with gentle arms, kissing his head, his cheeks, his eyes. He giggled, his small hands finding her hair, her ears, as she did so. She kissed him and cuddled him and cooed words I couldn’t make out from where I stood. She loved him, adored him.
And I couldn’t move.
I. Couldn’t. Move.
I stood frozen just inside the room, with Charles Sinclair at my back, watching my son and the girl I’d loved with all my fucking heart, and I couldn’t move.
“He’s a happy little treasure.”
I started at the soft murmur to my left. Amanda’s mother stood beside me, her gaze on her daughters and grandson. She looked older, much older, than the last time I saw her. Older, and so very tired. If Tanner was visually a younger version of me, Jacqueline Winslow-Sinclair was an older version of Amanda.
Still smiling, she slid her attention up to me. “And a fighter. Don’t forget that, Brendon. He’s a fighter.”
I swallowed, staring at her.
“Bren?”
I looked at Amanda, perched on the side of the bed, holding Tanner on her lap. Tanner, for his part, looked busy investigating how the earring in her left earlobe worked.
She gave me a smile I could only describe as nervous. “Wanna come over here? There’s someone waiting to meet you.”
I swallowed again. Why was my mouth so dry? My pulse pounded in my ears, so hard I was surprised the hospital didn’t shake.
“Tanner?” Amanda lowered her smile to our son and jiggled her knees a little, pointing at me as she did so. He giggled. “Can you say hello to Brendon?”
With another giggle, he reached for her finger. He didn’t look at me. Not at first. It took Amanda another jiggle of her knees, which elicited another delighted giggle, and another point of her finger my way, before he did. He gave me a solemn look, pushing his body closer to Amanda’s.
“Say hello.”
Pushing deeper into Amanda’s chest, Tanner studied me, catching his bottom lip with his top teeth. It was such an Amanda action. It tore at my heart. As did the dark smudges beneath his eyes, and the pallor of his skin.
It hit me then. I had no clue at all what stage of leukemia Tanner was in. None at all. I had no fucking clue about anything about my son except he was sick. And he was right there. Right there.
He’s a fighter. Jacqueline’s murmured words replayed in my head. I looked at him watching me. What must I look like to him? This massive guy he’d never seen before, looming large in the doorway . . .
Was he scared? Like me?
He’s a fighter . . .
I moved, closing the small distance between us in two steady paces, and squatted down onto my heels directly in front of him until I was just below his eye level. I gave him a warm smile. “G’day, Tanner,” I said, keeping my voice soft and gentle as I rested a hand on Amanda’s knee. Not touching him, no matter how much I wanted to. “I’m Brendon.”
He gazed at me, face half pressed into Amanda’s breast, teeth still on his bottom lip, and didn’t say a word.
“Tanner,” Amanda said, brushing her fingers over his head. “This is your daddy. And now that he’s here, hopefully you can start to feel better.”
Seven
Oppimus Tuck
I heard Charles mutter something behind me. I heard Jacqueline mutter something back. I didn’t look at either of them. The whole damn hospital could be standing behind me raging war on my personality and I wouldn’t care. I was looking into Tanner’s eyes. No one else mattered.
I’m not naive or inexperienced enough about children to think Tanner comprehended the enormity of his mother’s words, but I’m not lying when I say they sheared straight through my heart. A hot lump filled my throat. I continued to smile at him, my head spinning.
“Can you say daddy?” Amanda said.
He looked up at her and grinned. “Mommy.”
I laughed. Before I could stop myself, I touched his toes.
He swung back to me, consternation on his face, and pulled his foot away from my hand.
“Hi Tanner,” I said again. Croaked it actually. What was the deal with my throat? My voice? “How’re you going?”
What a stupid bloody question. How was he going? What the fuck was wrong with me?
“I mean,” I went on. It’s safe to say I was completely flustered. “I know how it’s going, but I . . . I . . . yeah, I’m your father. I know you have no idea what I’m talking about, I mean, who the hell, sorry, who the heck . . . Actually that’s not better . . . What I’m saying . . . Jesus, what am I . . .” I stopped. I drew in a slow breath and let it out just as slowly. “G’day, Tanner,” I said once more, smiling. “I’m glad to finally meet you.”
Above our heads, Amanda chuckled. “Oh, Bren . . . you are gorgeous.”
I flicked her a look, my smile still on my lips. “Shush. I’m doing a bang-up job of creating an awesome first impression with my son here.”
She chuckled, a warmth and happiness in her eyes I hadn’t seen since I touched down. “That you are, Osmond.”
Returning my attention to Tanner, I attempted another touch of his toes. They were so small and yet their length spoke of an impressive future stature. Okay, that’s probably completely ridiculous, but I was instantly and irrevocably in love with my son. How could I not be?
This time, Tanner didn’t pull his foot away. This time, he watched me touch his big toe. Watched me give it a little tickle. He giggled at me.
Holy fuck, nothing could ever compete with that.
I was gone right there and then. I mean, I’d already decided I was going to be the best dad ever before I’d met Tanner, but at the sound of his giggle directed at me the monumental shift of my entire existence, my entire purpose, damn near knocked me on my arse. The fact that I knew this delighted, happy giggle came from a very sick little boy, only made me love him all the more.