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For a brief moment, it felt like my world went dark.Simon ran ahead of me so fast. It took me a couple of seconds to realize why. I must have been glancing out at the lake the very moment it happened.
My heart fell to my stomach as I hurried to catch up to them.
Brendan was lying on the ground, his arm badly scraped and bleeding. But he wasn’t crying. My son rarely cried, which I was grateful for, because seeing him in any kind of pain killed me.
Trembling, I was the one crying as I helplessly watched Simon lift my boy into the safety of his arms, carefully inspecting every inch of him and asking lots of questions.
“What hurts?”
“My arm and my knee.”
“You didn’t hit your head, right?”
“No.”
Thank God.
Thank you, God.
“Brendan, you need to be more careful,” I said.
Simon was quick to correct me. “It wasn’t his fault. There was nothing he could have done. Those giant birds jumped right out in front of him. I saw it happen. Completely unavoidable.”
“Can you walk okay?” I asked.
Simon carefully put him down. Even though he was still shaken, Brendan moved his legs around and nodded that he was okay to walk. Simon then knelt down and pulled him into a tight embrace. The same massive relief I was feeling was written all over Simon’s face as well.
I picked the bike up off the ground and began wheeling it back.
Walking two steps behind them, I watched as Brendan reached for Simon’s hand. He hadn’t even hesitated to do it, and Simon took it so effortlessly as if it was totally natural. I just kept staring at Brendan’s little hand inside Simon’s massive one.
When had this happened?
I knew that Simon had grown close to my son, but it had never really sunken in that—whether I was trying to prevent it or not—a serious attachment had already developed.
For the first time, it hit me. Simon’s deciding not to take the Leeds job—it wasn’t just about me. He wanted to be here for Brendan, too. He wanted this. He wanted us.
I’d been so preoccupied with my own fears, I hadn’t really opened my eyes to what was actually happening around me.
We cut our afternoon outing short and headed straight home after a quick stop for Del’s frozen lemonade; it was right on the way back anyway.
When we arrived at the house, Simon treated Brendan’s wounds and confirmed he didn’t need stitches; he was going to be just fine. It was helpful to have a doctor around in times like these. I would’ve probably been second-guessing everything and might have taken him to the ER just to get another opinion to confirm that he didn’t have some hidden injury.
Once Brendan was cleaned up, the three of us were hanging out in the kitchen.
Simon clapped his hands together. “How about I go to the store and get us stuff to make tacos tonight?” He knew that was Brendan’s favorite meal.
My son perked up. “Can you get the Doritos shells?”
“If that’s what you want, sure.” Simon smiled.
Brendan’s next question changed the mood fast.
“Are you going back to your friend’s house after dinner?”
Simon looked at me, seeking guidance on a response. It was time to set the record straight. Truthfully, I’d made the decision, just hadn’t had the guts to accept it until this afternoon.
I looked over at my son. “No. Simon is staying here with us, Brendan.” I looked over at Simon to make sure my intentions were clear. “He’s moving back in permanently.”
My son looked between us then straight at Simon. “Until you move to England?”
Simon took a moment to gather his thoughts.
“Well, that was the original plan, but actually, I wanted to talk to you about something. I wanted to know how you’d feel if I stuck around instead?”
His question seemed to take a few seconds to register with Brendan, who’d likely never considered the possibility of Simon actually staying.
“You’re not leaving us?”
Leaving us.
The way he put it really made me realize how he’d truly felt.
Simon knelt down to be eye level with him. “I went back there to visit. You knew that…to see my parents. I really missed them. But the thing is…I missed you more—you and your mum. And I realized I didn’t want to move anymore. I want to stay here with you guys. Because you both make me really happy.”
Simon’s declaring that to my son meant more than his telling me he loved me. It was more of a commitment than most marriage proposals, even. When you look a child in the eyes—particularly one who’d lost his father—and tell him you’re here to stay, that’s about as serious as it gets. I knew he wouldn’t do anything to hurt Brendan. He would never make a promise to him that he couldn’t keep.
Brendan looked stunned, like he’d never expected this, like this entire time had always been about preparing for Simon to be gone, preparing for another loss. His eyes started to glisten. My son, who never cried, was tearing up. Not because he fell and got hurt, but because he loved Simon. It was as simple as that. He’d been holding back from allowing himself to feel that love because he was sure he would lose him.
