Seven hours into our silent vigil, a tired looking surgeon entered the room. My supportive group huddled around me as he approached.
“Is he dead?” I asked, taking in his solemn expression.
“No, he’s one lucky boy. He pulled through the surgery.”
“He did?” I asked, not daring to believe him.
He nodded, smiling slightly. “The next twenty-four hours will be critical, and his body will need time to recover…” his words cutoff as I threw myself in his arms.
“Thank you so much,” I said as tears of happiness rolled down my cheeks.
“It will be a long tough recovery,” he cautioned, patting my back awkwardly. “And physical therapy will be a must.”
“That’s okay, we’re not going anywhere,” Max’s dad said, reaching forward to shake the surgeon’s hand too as he peppered him with questions about Kevin’s injuries.
I tuned out their mumbo jumbo words and turned to Max who was grinning at me broadly as he pulled me into his arms. He led me to the other side of the room, away from the others.
“You okay?” he asked, pulling back slightly to gaze into my eyes.
“I’m getting there. I’ve never been so scared in my whole life.”
“Neither have I,” he admitted. “I was afraid you'd hate me for what we did tonight,” he added, looking down at the ground, obviously feeling immense guilt.
“Oh,” I said, thinking about it for the first time. “I guess I never really thought about that. Lucinda has always been a ticking time bomb and I’ve tried my hardest to limit her alone time with Kevin, but I just always thought if I took the brunt of her anger she would leave him alone. Tonight proved his safety was an illusion. If she wouldn’t have lashed out tonight it would have happened down the road. I’ve taken the blame for so much over the years that this time I’m leaving the blame with her,” I said.
Max pulled me back into his arms and placed his lips gently on mine.
“You know, I’m never letting you go now,” he whispered against my lips.
“That’s all I ask,” I said as his lips claimed mine.
Epilogue
The days surrounding Kevin’s recovery were a mixture of the happiest and worst days I had ever had. On his second day of his recovery, they discovered his brain was bleeding and they had to go in and repair the damage. They placed him in a drug-induced coma while the swelling in his brain went down.
Max’s parents and the Graves’s were lifesavers as they sat with me, offering support and comfort. Susan, the same social worker that had talked with me in the hospital that first night, came to visit every day and updated us on the red tape she was busily cutting through to get Maxwell and Karen approved as foster parents for Kevin and the Graves’s for me. I had no idea that Max’s parents wanted to foster us until his uncle showed up to the hospital that first night. We decided as a group that it would be easier if I stayed with the Graves’s temporarily through the rest of the school year and the summer, since it would be awkward with Max and I dating. Max and I choose not to fill them in that we planned to live together the following year when we started college. I found it ironic that for years I had feared the system that I was convinced was against us, only to realize that they were actually on our side all along. After years of thinking we were alone, we were suddenly surrounded by people who all wanted us.
Lucinda made it easier when she signed away her parental rights as she awaited her sentencing. I wasn't sure why she finally decided to do something that was best for us, nor did I have plans to ever ask her. I had overlooked so much over the years that I could no longer find the strength to forgive her.
Max stayed with me the entire time I was at the hospital with Kevin, only leaving long enough to get us food and a change of clothing. Karen reassured me they had already moved our belongings and that Lucinda’s stuff had been put in a storage unit to be dealt with later down the road.
One week after Kevin’s brain had stopped bleeding they took him off the coma-induced medicine and told us it could be several hours before he came around and that he would be groggy when he woke.
Max and I sat on either side of him, anxiously waiting for him to wake. I was just beginning to doze off when I felt his hand move slightly in mine. I lifted my head off the bedrail and watched as his eyes slowly fluttered open.
“Hey, punk. You’ve been sleeping for a while,” I said as tears fell down my cheeks.
“You’re crying,” he said.
I nodded. “You’ve been one sick little boy, and I’ve been very worried,” I said, explaining my tears.
“Where am I?” he asked groggily.
“The hospital, pal. You’ve been here a while,” I said, smiling with relief.
“What day is it?” he asked, looking at me a little more clearly.
“It’s someday soon,” I said through my tears as I looked at Kevin who smiled at me.
Tiffany King, Wishing For Someday Soon
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