Page 10 of Have a Bear-y Little Christmas
Chapter 4
Jeannie
Penny for Your Thoughts
“So,which book are you looking forward to reading first?” I asked, pushing Max’s walker as we slowly walked along. He’d used it in the bookstore, so I’d left it unfolded, happy to drive it while my son walked on his own a bit.
He was still a bit shaky, his muscles and energy levels far below what they should be for his age, but if people knew how far he’d already come in a few months, they’d be cheering in the streets like I always wanted to. Hell, if I had the money, I’d rent a billboard to brag about my son.
While I had no desire to be one of those toxic boy moms online that were weirdly possessive of their sons—hell, some of them bordered on emotional incest—Ididlove my son more than anything else, and it was as easy as pie to do so, but on a healthy level. I would never insist that no girl would ever be good enough for him or use him as a stand-in for a partner. That love I felt for him made the way my parents had treated me all the more baffling. The idea of doing anything like that to Max…
I had to cut that thought off otherwise I would get pissed, and why get pissed on such a beautiful, winter day?
“Shadow Castle!” Max replied enthusiastically. “Thank you for carrying the books, by the way.”
“Of course. What are mommies for?”
“I dunno, saving the world, maybe?”
His words almost startled me into stopping. “Are you teasing me, Maxie?”
“Teasing?” His naturally big, hazel eyes that looked so much like mine grew even larger. “Like, making fun?”
“Yeah.”
“No, I meant it.”
I flushed. My boy had always been vocal about how much he appreciated me, but well… sometimes things hit hard, even good things.
“Thank you, Max. I’ll try to make sure I always live up to that.”
“I don’t see how you couldn’t.” He gave me a gap-toothed smile. Like much of his development, getting his adult teeth had been delayed, and he still had one more to go. “You’re the best mom ever.”
Goodness.
I didn’t want to cry on the street, partially because I didn’t want to be a bummer and partially because I didn’t want my face to be wet with how cold it was. Although we were appropriately bundled up, that wouldn’t do much good if I was all snotty and teary.
“Thank you, Max. You’re the best son ever.”
“Eh, I’m pretty okay.”
That made me laugh, and my adorable son grinned cheekily. He wasn’t an outright comedian, but he’d learned to cope with his situation with lots of humor and always seemed to perk up whenever he could make anyone laugh. He hadn’t said itexplicitly, but I got the feeling he liked it because no matter how sick he was, he could always be funny.
And honestly, I was right there with him.
When I’d first escaped my home, I’d struggled with depression, which was why I’d fallen in with his father. I was young, scared, sad, and stupid. Still, I wouldn’t change what had happened because then I wouldn’t have Max. I never thought I would be a good mother considering what I came from, but as it turned out, I had all the power to break generational curses.
So, I damn well would.
“Do you want your walker for a bit?” I never wanted to pester my son, but sometimes he got a bit drunk on his own independence and pushed himself more than he should. I figured it was difficult for a nine-year-old to rein himself in when he’d spent six months of his life almost completely bedbound, so it was my job to keep an eye out. “We’ve been moving around a lot today.”
“No, I’m still feeling good,” he answered, holding his pace steady as we strolled along. “I’m glad I had the walker for the store, though. It made it easier since I could sit on it while we looked at the books. There sure were a lot.”
“There were. We got lucky.”
While I wasn’t really in a position to spend any extra money, especially before Christmas, my son and I had a tradition. On the third Thursday of every month, we went to a local bookstore that had sold damaged books and old paperbacks for about ten cents each. They used to be a penny, but eh, inflation was striking everywhere.
So, for two dollars plus tax, we now had a backpack chock-full of books that would last my son a month or two. He would keep all his favorites, then we’d donate the rest to our local library. Definitely worth it, since Max could chew through books.
