Page 59 of Healing Hearts
As soon as we get to the top of the stairs, Amir whips around, almost sending the breakfast flying off the plate. “I forgot the presents in my school bag,” he says.
“That’s okay,” I say. “We can drop off breakfast and then you can go down and get the stuff to deliver to him.”
“It’s already wrapped,” Amir says, and then he waits for me to open Trent’s door.
I give a light tap with my knuckles before we enter. Trent is sitting up in bed, on his phone, and when he glances up, Amir yells, “Happy stepdad day!”
“Uh,” I say, shocked by what’s come out of his mouth.
“Here,” Amir says, passing Trent the plate before dashing back out the door.
“I have no idea what that’s about,” I say as soon as he’s gone.
“Not exactly what we talked about,” Trent says with a strained chuckle. “He must not know what it means.”
Amir comes shooting back into the room, two decorated brown paper bags in his hands. He puts one out to Trent then draws it back and puts out the other, as though he can’t decide which to deliver first.
“Which one do you like best, bud? Give me that one first.”
“This one,” he says, passing Trent the longer one.
Trent carefully removes the tape from the top of the bag. And he pulls out a long, thick piece of cardboard in a makeshiftframe. I can’t see what it says, but I can tell from Trent’s face that it’s made him emotional.
“Do you want me to read it for you?” Amir asks, all innocent helpfulness.
“Nah, bud. I’m just taking it in. You did a good job on this.” He glances up at me and turns it around. I move closer, and I see where the stepdad comment came from.
On the top of the list are the wordsTo the World’s Best Stepped-Up Dad,and under it are all the things Trent has done over the last year and half that have meant something to Amir. The list is long and detailed—exactly what I’d expect from Amir—but it makes my throat clog up. While I’d known the time they spent together was important to Amir, I’m not sure I fully realized all the things they’d done together, all the ways Trent had left an impact.
“That’s amazing,” I whisper, and I can’t keep the tears from forming in my eyes, so I turn away in case they spill.
“And this one,” Amir says, passing him a shorter bag.
Trent sets the first gift on the nightstand, propped up so it’s easy to read. Then he takes the second bag and opens it just as carefully, the paper crinkling as he tries to open it without ripping anything.
He pulls out what looks like a series of wide popsicle sticks with some paper attached. Trent grins and turns this one toward me. Pictures of Amir and Trent are in each “frame,” and there’s a sentence under each to say what they were doing. The center of the piece saysWorld’s Best Stepped-Up Dadagain.
“Where’d you get the photos?” I ask.
“I think I know,” Trent says. “Joanna asked me for some photos of me and Amir a few weeks ago for the family photo albums. I sent her a bunch. Is that right?”
Amir nods. “Grandma helped me get the pictures. I knew Mom would ask a million questions.”
He’s not wrong. Part of me is glad for their connection, and part of me is wary of it, especially given what Trent and I are doing that he knows nothing about. Trent has promised he won’t abandon Amir, and I have to trust that, but it’s hard to know I’m putting my son’s heart on the line with the choices I’ve made.
But when Trent reaches over and ruffles Amir’s hair, drawing him into a hug, I realize it’s not just Amir’s heart I’ve put on the line. It’s pretty clear Trent loves him just as much.
The boat sways when I get in, and I hold out a hand for Amir to step down after me. Trent is trying to hold the rowboat steady from shore, with all the fishing equipment clasped in his other hand.
Trent had given Amir the choice of activity today, and this is what he’d picked. It felt a bit bittersweet that he picked this place. It’s where the weight of his potential illness was released, and it’s also where I last felt Omar’s presence.
Without knowing it, he probably picked the perfect thing for us to do, even if I reallyhatethis boat.
I triple check Amir’s life jacket as Trent gets into the boat, and it wobbles quickly and uncontrollably.
“Someone is going to fall in,” I mutter, gripping the side while Amir laughs with delight.
“No one will fall in,” Trent says with a lot more confidence than I feel. Of course, he was right about it all last time—coming here, renting the boat, releasing my anxiety into the clouds.
