PART 14

Healing is slow when you are eight and every laugh hurts.

My son missed a week of gym. He flinched when a classmate bumped his shoulder. The school counselor, Mrs. Ellis, checked in twice. She did not make him perform recovery. She let him sit in her office and read if that was all he had that day.

At night he asked practical questions.

“Will the rib remember?”

“The bone will heal stronger at the break. The memory is separate. We can take care of both.”

“Will I have to see Tyler at Grandma’s?”

“Not until it is safe. Maybe not there at all.”

He considered this.

“I liked Grandma’s pancakes.”

“I can make pancakes.”

“Yours are rounder.”

“I will work on the shape.”

We made them on Sunday. They were not round. He ate two. He did not mention the other kitchen.

Small mercies are still mercies.