Part 7 — The Son She Had Never Spoken About
For several seconds, Kimberly and I said nothing.
Finally, she whispered:
“I’m sorry.”
I looked through the glass window of the hallway door toward Noah’s room.
“Sorry for what?”
Her breathing caught.
“For what I said.”
“Which part?”
“All of it.”
“You told my husband he should abandon the baby we spent five years praying for.”
“I know.”
“You looked at Noah and decided his diagnosis mattered more than the fact that he was your grandson.”
She cried quietly.
“I know.”
“Why should I ever trust you near him?”
She had no immediate answer.
I almost ended the call.
Then she said:
“Because I was wrong.”
I sat down slowly in one of the hallway chairs.
Kimberly continued.
“I was wrong thirty years ago. And when I walked into that hospital room and saw Noah…”
Her voice collapsed.
“I saw Matthew.”
I closed my eyes.
“I saw the baby I gave away. I saw every decision I’ve spent decades pretending I had made peace with.”
She took a shaky breath.
“And instead of facing that, I tried to make Brandon choose what I chose.”
“What happened to Matthew?”
“I don’t know.”
The answer stunned me.
“You never found out?”
“No.”
“He’s your son.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
Her voice became so quiet I almost couldn’t hear her.
“Because I was afraid of either answer.”
I said nothing.
“If he had a happy life, then I would have to admit maybe I could have had one with him too.”
She sniffed.
“And if he didn’t…”
She couldn’t finish.
After a few seconds, she whispered:
“I didn’t know how I would live with that.”
There was suddenly no anger in me large enough to erase the sadness of what I was hearing.
But sadness was not forgiveness.
Not yet.
Kimberly asked, “May I come tomorrow?”
“Why?”
“To apologize to you properly.”
I looked toward Brandon.
He was standing a few feet away with tears on his face.
“That doesn’t mean you get to hold Noah.”
“I understand.”
“And it doesn’t mean everything is fixed.”
“I know.”
“Then come.”
