Page 5 of Property of Max
“Looks like you get to pick the pudding flavor,” I tell Micah, steering him toward the shelves.
He can’t eat solid food, but every now and then, I let him taste a little. Just enough to give him the flavor, a small reminder of something normal. He’s able to swallow his own saliva, though not easily, and I never risk it without being careful first.
Unzipping the side of the bag, I check for the suction equipment. The sight of it tucked safely inside loosens a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
“What flavor do you want to try today, buddy?” I ask, crouching a little so I can see his eyes.
I wait as his gaze moves over the glowing squares of his device, slow but deliberate. Then the computer voice speaks for him:
“Chocolate… duh.”
A laugh slips from me, warm and real. “Don’t know why I even asked,” I tease, shaking my head. “You always pick chocolate.”
His eyes sparkle, and for a second, it almost feels like the old Micah is right there with me, grinning at his own joke.
“Mama, can Uncle Micah have a taste of applesauce?” Bree asks, her voice hopeful.
“If he wants a taste,” I tell her, smiling softly. “I thought you were going for the gummies?”
“I was, but Uncle Micah can’t have those. But we can both have some applesauce.”
Sweet girl. Always thinking of him.
“How about this,” I suggest, brushing a hand over her hair, “you go grab those gummies you wanted, and we’ll find the squeeze applesauce pouches for you and your uncle.”
“Is that okay with you, Uncle Micah?” she asks, turning her attention back to him, her little face earnest. “We can get yogurt instead of gummies. They taste the same.”
I watch her wait patiently, giving him time, never rushing him. My chest swells with so much love for her.
His eyes flick over his device, and then the voice answers for him.
“Get gummies, squirt”.
My throat tightens, eyes burning.Squirt.The nickname he’s called her since she was just a baby, back when his voice was his own.
It’s moments like this that cut the deepest. My brother is still fully himself, trapped inside this stubborn shell of a body. I see it in his humor, in the way his eyes light when Bree teases him, in the patience he has with her questions.
Micah used to be unstoppable. Always talking, always joking, always in motion. He was the kind of uncle who never turned down a chance to play with Bree, who’d carry her on his shoulders until she laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe.
Now… now all of that is locked away. I can see it…see him…right there behind his eyes. But he’s a prisoner in his own skin. And it makes my heart ache in ways I can’t put into words.
“Hey, guys. It’s so good to see you.”
Turning, I find myself smiling at the radiant woman heading our way. Sunny practically glows, like her name was made for her.
“Hey, Sunny,” I say warmly. “I haven’t seen you in here the past few times we’ve been. Everything okay?”
“Of course,” she answers quickly, her smile never faltering. But even as she says it, I can’t help but think Sunny’s the type who would never admit if things weren’t okay.
“I met someone,” she adds after a beat, her grin widening. “We went away for a little while.”
I laugh softly, but inside something twists. Jealousy. Not sharp or mean, just a quiet ache I’ll never voice. Because God, Iwould give anything…well, almost anything…to find someone to love me.
To loveus.
But that’s asking a lot. On top of raising a ten-year-old, I’m caring for a sixteen-year-old who needs round-the-clock attention. It’s the very reason Bree’s father walked out four years ago. He couldn’t handle the added responsibility. Said he “hadn’t signed up for this life.”
We’re still friendly, I suppose. We have to be, considering we share a daughter. But the day he left, he lost what little respect I still had for him.
