Page 6 of Property of Max
But the truth is, I get it. I understand the weight. The sacrifices it would take for a man to step into my world and stay. But it’s not something I’ll ever ask of anyone.
So, I’ve made my peace with it. Being alone for the rest of my life hurts in a place I don’t often let myself look too closely at. But if the choice is between love and my brother, I’ll choose Micah every time.
Because loneliness, I can live with. Losing him, I couldn’t.
“That’s wonderful,” I tell her honestly. “It looks like he makes you happy.”
“Oh, he does. But enough about me.” Sunny leans down, her smile bright as she turns her attention to my brother. “How have you been, Micah? You ready for school?”
I can’t help but chuckle as we wait for his answer. An answer I already know.
Micah doesn’t go to school, not in the traditional sense. After the accident, they set him up with a tutor who specializes in teaching children with locked-in syndrome. He still gets the basics…math, science, history…but most of the focus is on helping him use his communication device.
It’s more than just a way for him to talk to us. It’s independence. Safety. With it, he can answer questions, playmemory games, and even call the police if there is ever an emergency. Small squares of light on a screen, but to Micah, they mean freedom.
And sitting here, watching Sunny wait patiently for him, I realize again how much strength it takes for him to keep learning, to keep pushing forward when so much of the world is locked away from him.
“Too cool… school,”Micah’s device says after a moment.
Sunny tosses her head back and laughs, her joy bright and unfiltered.
“Yeah, you most definitely are too cool for school,” she says with a smile, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
“Mama, I found them!” Bree’s voice carries from the end of the aisle before she skids to a stop beside us. Her eyes light up. “Oh! Hi, Sunny.”
“Hello, little Bree,” Sunny sings, crouching a little to meet her at eye level. “Oh, those are my favorite gummies. Excellent choice.”
Bree grins, proud of her selection, and clutches the box to her chest like a prize. Micah’s eyes track her, sparkling with the same mischief that’s always been his.
For a moment, standing there between Sunny’s laughter, Bree’s chatter, and the steady hum of Micah’s pump, it almost feels normal. Almost feels like we’re just another family running errands on a summer afternoon.
Almost.
“We’re going on a picnic,” Bree announces proudly. “Do you have any more of that old bread?”
Sunny claps her hands, delighted. “I’ve been saving it just for you. Be right back.”
I watch her hurry off, and a smile tugs at my lips. Last summer, during one of our picnics, we saw some workers tossing out expired bread near the loading dock. Bree asked if we couldtake a loaf to feed the ducks at the park, and it turned into our little ritual. Now, every picnic means a bag of snacks for us and a stale loaf for the birds.
“Here you go,” Sunny says a few minutes later, slightly out of breath as she returns with a loaf wrapped in clear plastic. “Tell the birdies I said hi.”
“Thank you, Sunny.” My smile is genuine, warmed by her small kindness.
“No problem, Lila,” she says sweetly. She leans down, her voice sing-song bright. “Bree, Micah, you two have fun at the park.”
“Bye,”Micah’s device says instantly, one of his programmed quick phrases that never fails to make people’s eyes widen a little.
Sunny beams, giving his hand a gentle pat before Bree grabs my arm, bouncing with excitement. For a brief moment, the world feels lighter. Like the simple act of stale bread and an end-of-summer picnic might be enough to make the day good.
***
“Want another bite?” I ask gently.
“Please,”Micah’s device answers.
Smiling, I hold the applesauce pouch to his lips and squeeze the smallest amount onto his tongue. With my thumb and forefinger, I brush the sauce across his lips so it spreads, making sure he gets the taste without too much to swallow at once.
His eyes roll back dramatically, exaggerated as if he’s savoring a five-star meal. The sight pulls a laugh straight out of me.
