same fate as the guy who woke up after being in a persistent vegetative state for twelve years? If Brogan could be the miracle Mrs. Barrett asks everyone to pray for?
I could say, “Hey, remember that fight?” and he could say, “Yeah, I was a fucking idiot. And so were you.” Then we could hug it out like a couple of teenage girls.
What would that be like for him? Waking up and finding himself in this body? Learning to walk all over again? He had so many broken bones and torn-up ligaments and tendons that even before they were sure about the state of his brain, they said he’d never play football again.
I hang my head. “I won’t be playing ball next year. I got out of it the only way I knew how. Wouldn’t have been right to be on the field without you.” I sigh. “But you know Dad. He’s already pulling strings right and left to try to get me back in the game as soon as possible.”
A robin lands on the bird feeder outside the window, and I watch it peck at the food.
“I’m worried about Mia. We all lost so much that night, but it’s like she was a casualty, too, and nobody noticed.”
The bird flies away, and I put my good hand on top of Brogan’s, testing the feel of his too-pliant flesh against my palm. This is the part where I’m supposed to say sorry. I’m supposed to apologize for not being a better friend, for getting in the way, for every dumb-ass decision I made that night.
But I can’t. It doesn’t seem right to force-feed him an apology he won’t be able to reject. I don’t deserve his forgiveness.
Mrs. Barrett walks into the room and gives me a sad smile. “Thought I’d check and see if you’d like some coffee.”
I wonder if she knows she’s rescuing me from myself right now.
I release Brogan’s hand and nod as I stand and follow her to the kitchen. “That would be nice.”
“He looks good today, doesn’t he?” she asks over her shoulder.
No. He looks broken and empty. A shell of a man.
I smile instead of answering, and she shakes her head. “Sorry. I’m used to Mia’s visits. Saying what she needs to hear.” Her hands shake as she pulls two mugs from the cabinet and picks up the coffee pot. “I’m not blind. I do know how he really looks.”
She hands me a steaming mug, and I take a sip, letting the hot, bitter liquid scald my tongue. “Mia’s not handling this very well, is she?”
“No.” Mrs. Barrett wraps her hands around her mug and stares into it. “I wasn’t very kind to her while she and Brog were dating, and now I feel a little responsible for her. I should have been a better mother. Accepted her instead of worrying that he could have been with someone better.” She shakes her head, and her eyes fill with tears. “Sometimes the price of perspective is just too high.”
I don’t know what to say, so I steal my therapist’s words, rewriting them to work for Mrs. Barrett. “You loved Brogan. You were the best mom you knew how to be.” I’m almost surprised when the words fit between us, right where they need to go. When the doctor said them to me, they felt like just another platitude. “Let the rest go.”
“His kidneys are failing.” Tears wet her mascara-caked lashes and spill onto her cheeks, bringing smudges of eye makeup with them. “I keep praying that God will show me the way, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. The doctors don’t really think we should begin dialysis, but if we don’t . . .”
Let him go. The words sit trapped in my throat. Please, let him go.
“I think maybe it’s time for Brogan to join Jesus.”
Let him. I stare at her, willing her to feel the words I don’t dare speak. Would Mia hate me if she knew I felt this way? If she knew my greatest wish was for her boyfriend’s death?
She clears her throat and wipes away her tears. “We haven’t told Mia yet. I just want to be sure before I break her heart. Can you keep this secret?”
I nod, but I don’t dare speak. My throat’s too thick, my heart too full of secrets to carry another.
Mia
“This dinner is important to Uriah,” Gwen says, smoothing an invisible wrinkle in her skirt. “Make sure everyone’s wine stays full and their