The Between Years

the hall, a curtain was drawn, and Heatherman paused. “Just tell me when you're ready. Or if you're having second thoughts.”

    “ Our minds are made up,” I said.

    “ We'll have a quick look and get it over with.” Randy's voice sounded cracked and exhausted.

    Heatherman pulled the curtain back slowly. The sounds of the silver rings jingling across a rod reminded me of fingers on a chalkboard and sent shivers down my spine. He revealed Kenny lying in a bed that he would never grow into. Thankfully, the bed sheets were green otherwise I wouldn't have noticed him. Every trace of color had drained from his face, his arms, and his little fingers.

    His mouth was shut and his head drooped on an angle so his chin pointed to his shoulder. The toque I'd given him was lost and his blonde hair was dishevelled. If not for the pallor, I would have thought he was only sleeping.

    Tubes were still stuck up Kenny's nose. An IV needle still dug into one hand and a blood pressure cuff looked massive on the opposite arm. Without a word, Heatherman stepped aside to leave us with our son. My entire life had been stolen from me in a matter of hours. Randy and I had been helpless bystanders in a divine robbery. I couldn't close my eyes, couldn't tell myself I was just dreaming. Kenny's skin felt so cold.

    Had Kenny already been gone when I'd checked on him? I didn't want to think so mostly because I want to believe he'd stood a fighting chance. But who was I kidding? I just didn't want to believe that it was my fault and that I'd left my little boy to die.

    When Randy massaged my shoulders, and I released Kenny's hand, I remembered Heatherman's comment about needing us to contact a funeral home. Sure, he'd been sensitive and hadn't rushed us, but how could we do it all? Not that I couldn't think of some good places in town to make arrangements, but I couldn't bear to think of some stranger coming along to cart my precious little boy away. And the thought of having him embalmed and buried, or cremated and dumped in a cookie jar . . . we just couldn't do that, could we? But I shoved those thoughts from my mind since I quickly became too consumed by my own grief for much else.

    “ We shouldn't stay here forever.” Randy sniffled.

    “ I know, I know, it's just that I need to have these last few minutes with him.”

    That was horseshit. I'd only ever considered the human body to be a vessel and have always believed that the person was gone. Where they'd traveled to was another debate. I remembered having spent time at my grandmother's bedside in the hour and change between the time she'd died and when the funeral director arrived to cart her away. Having done so convinced me that she was really gone and I needed that moment with Kenny to convince me that he was really gone.

    When my grandma died, I remembered feeling happy for her because she'd been relieved from her pain. But I also felt sad because I'd never see her smile or hear her sweet voice again. I realized how much Kenny's smiles, dimples and laughs had fuelled me, and the challenge to erase them from my memory that lay ahead.

    Randy's hand rested on my shoulder. “Let's go.”

    “ Do you think we'll ever have another baby?” I regretted the question the moment it escaped my lips. How could I have said that? Was I really trying to replace Kenny before his body had been carted away? I don't think Randy was perturbed by it, but I still look back on the question with disgust.

    “ Sure we can.” His voice barely reached a whisper. “And we will. Why, we'll have-”

    I expected Randy to conclude by saying that we would have Princes of Maine and Kings of New England, a line from The Cider House Rules that he liked to use sometimes. Being that John Irving was among his favorite authors, I was stunned that he didn't finish the quote.

    But judging by his unflinching expression, I knew Randy hadn't taken Kenny's death as a defeat. No tears filled his eyes, and he stood firm, but deep down I know it ravaged him. I soon learned how badly he wanted to have a son again, but not by replacing Kenny.

    Not ever.

CHAPTER 15
    Randy spent his workday lost in a haze, his every thought revolving around Kenny and what had happened in Nana's room. Correction: Kenny's room. As exhausted as he felt, he swore he'd been floating through a dream all day. Before he knew it, eight hours had passed, the day was over, and he boasted next to no finished work. I'll catch up on everything