Page 50 of Embracing Us

“Are you not going to give me a clue?” he asked, confused.

“This is something you need to hear directly from the horse’s mouth,” I replied, hating myself for being evasive but not trusting myself to say any more. “She’s waiting for you.”

“You’re making me nervous.” I slowed to a stop and turned to face him. He looked lost as his eyes searched my face for an answer I couldn’t give him. “Linda, please.” I lifted my arms and laid a hand on each of his biceps. We stood there, our son between us, simply staring at each other.

“This is not my story to tell,” I said. “But know Max, whatever you decide and however you feel, I am here by your side, always.” With that, I spun on my heel and walked into the apartment with him following behind.

Susan had been sitting where I left her, staring into space. It was a trait I noticed she had on our arrival back at the hotel this year. When she told us of her diagnosis, I assumed it was a symptom of Alzheimer’s, which it can be. But on this morning, I suspected it was nerves from having to face her demons.

“Will someone bloody tell me what is going on?” Max snapped. He walked over to his aunt who hadn’t turned around as we entered. With Jackson still firmly in his arms he crouched down in front of her. She glanced at him then looked away. “Why are you crying?” he asked. The expression on his face was one of disbelief. “Has there been a development with your condition? Do you need me to do something?”

She reached out with a quivering hand to stroke his cheek. “No, Max. It’s me that has to do something for you,” she said. “Linda, will you take Jackson please?” I walked over and held out my arms. Max’s focus moved between his aunt and me, then he passed over our son.

“Do you know what this is about?” he whispered. His tone caught somewhere between concern and annoyance. I nodded and held his gaze, willing him silently to listen to what she had to say.

“Sit next to me,” Susan said, patting the cushion beside her. Max moved to sit as asked, and she took his hands in hers. “Listen to this story from start to finish. I understand you are going to be angry with me, disappointed most likely. But know the decisions that were made were for your benefit. They were difficult, but they were made with love at the centre of them.”

I retreated to the opposite sofa. Jackson gurgled happily. Every so often his face would break into a wide grin as he blinked up at me. “Are you hungry my little prince?” I asked him. As if by magic, a bottle was laid on the table next to me. When I looked up Crystal gave me a sad smile.

“I thought you may need one of these,” she said, waddling past me and sitting down on the same sofa. “We could be here awhile.”

Susan took a deep breath. Her body, which seemed to be becoming more fragile by the day, rose then sagged. “Your mother was an incredible woman. Even though we weren’t close in age, she was the best big sister I could ever have asked for. I loved her so much and miss her every single day. She was the person I could confide in when life got tough.” Max’s gaze ran over his aunt’s face, searching for answers that would only come when they passed her lips. “You’re very like her. Selfless, giving, and you love unconditionally. I hope those amazing traits will allow you to forgive me for my lies.”

“Aunt Susan,” he whispered, “please tell me what is going on.”

“When I was a teenager, I was rebellious. I thought I knew it all. I entered into a relationship with a man much older than me.”

“A man in a position of power,” I added, not wanting Susan to start this conversation by assuming all responsibility for this situation we found ourselves in. This wasn’t all her fault, and when she told her son the reasoning behind the decisions made, he needed to be able to understand that. Susan glanced in my direction, smiling kindly in thanks.

“He was my swimming coach. I suspect he was around twenty-five. I don’t remember the details now but that summer, I became infatuated by him.” Max looked at me, then back to his aunt. I could almost hear the cogs in his brain turning, attempting to make sense of the situation. “What started as a teenage crush developed into open flirtation. I thought I was in love. I was convinced I knew it all.”

“What happened? Why do I need to know this?” he asked.

“Because…” She paused, visibly steeling herself to tell him what he needs to know. “I slept with him once, and that one time resulted in a pregnancy.”

“Where’s the baby?” Max replied, instantly. His voice dropped beyond a whisper, I could barely hear him sitting only metres away.

“He turned into the most amazing man. A man I love with every cell in my body.” She tipped her head back, then lifted her eyes to the ceiling before returning to meet his stare. “And he’s sitting next to me at this very moment.”

The admission hung in the air. No one in the room spoke; even Jackson was silent. Max dropped her hands, stood then strode from the apartment. I passed my son to Crystal and ran after him. When I reached the reception area, he was nowhere to be seen, but I heard the creak of familiar footsteps climbing the stairs. I followed him and found him standing on our roof terrace looking out at the ocean. This is his thinking place. Whenever we’ve had an issue in the past or his day hasn’t gone to plan, Max retreats to here.

The sun was high and beat down with the intense summer heat. Max stood at the balustrade, palms on the white stone. “You’ll get burned up here,” I said, quietly, as I approached him. A discarded bottle of suntan lotion sat on the lounger. “Do you have any protection on?”

“No,” he muttered. “I have a few other things on my mind.”

“You think of them, and I’ll protect your skin.” As I reached his side, his head turned towards me, but the black shades he wore hid his eyes. I took his hand and led him to the lounger. “Sit,” I told him. He complied. With gentle fingers, I removed the sunglasses from his face. Behind them, I found terrified broken green eyes. I placed a kiss on his forehead in comfort. “It will be all right. This is a shock, but you will learn to live with it, especially when you listen to all the answers.”

“My mother isn’t my mother,” he said. I lifted the bottle of sun lotion and squeezed a dollop the size of a pea onto my fingers. Slowly, I applied the cream to his face starting at his forehead and working downwards. “It’s all been a lie.”

“No, the love is real,” I told him. “And the woman who raised you is still your mother.”

“But why not tell me?”

“I don’t know the story of why the decision was made. I only know as much as you do. You’ll only find out by asking Susan yourself.”

“I’m not sure I can face her,” he admitted.

After taking another blob of cream, I massaged it into his neck, ensuring the back was well covered. “You always get burned here,” I whispered, softly. He smiled sadly, but his eyes rose to mine. We stared at one another, unspoken words passing between us, the silent acknowledgement that he wasn’t on his own to deal with this. “I’ve got you.”

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