Page 104 of Until August

“The best pizza I ever ate,” Nicola said. Her gaze swung to me, and her smile softened. I opened my mouth to tell her she could stay and hang out with us, but she beat me to it. “I have some work to do inside.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder, then spun and walked away.

I suspected it was an excuse to give me some time alone with Sage.

When I dragged my eyes away from the door and focused on Sage, he said, “She’s nice. Pretty too.”

I smiled, happy to have Sage’s stamp of approval. “Yes, she is.”

“I mean, not as pretty as Mom, but—”

“Sage,” I said sharply. My gaze darted to the open door again. I hoped like hell Nicola hadn’t overheard. “You can’t compare like that.”

“Sorry. I just mean that Mom is mymom,soIthink she’s the prettiest. Bodhi says his mom is themost beautifulbecause she was a model.” He shrugged and held up his hands as if to say, that’s just the way it is.

“It’s not a beauty contest, buddy. It’s what’s on the inside that counts. Now… where do you want it?” I held up the piece of paper for his inspection.

Sage thought about it for a few seconds, then he tugged up the hem of his turquoise rash vest that covered his torso and arms and placed his palm over his heart. “Right here.”

For a moment, I just stared at his chest. I hadn’t seen his scars since he was a toddler. The most noticeable one was the eight-inch scar that split his sternum. The scar had faded over time, but it would always be there. A reminder of the trauma his body had endured at such an early age.

All the memories of those doctor visits and hospital stays and the fear and worry came rushing back and crashed over me like a tsunami.

My chest got tight as visions of Sage being wheeled into surgery flashed before my eyes. I had to pry Sasha away from him and carry her into the waiting room. “If anything happens to him, I don’t want to go on living,” she’d said. “So, you’d better be right about this, August.”

All I could do was pray like hell that I’d made the right decision by insisting on that third surgery, and thankfully the risk had paid off.

I’d never been a big believer in God before, but when Sage went in for his first surgery, I dropped to my knees and prayed.

I did the same for the two surgeries that followed. I don’t know if there is a God or if He heard my prayers, but I thanked the big man in Heaven every time Sage pulled through another surgery.

Now, I did it again. A silent prayer of thanks for watching over my son. For not taking him away from us.

Miracles do happen. I had proof. He was standing right in front of me on the deck, studying my face.

“Dad?” he asked hesitantly.

My gaze snapped to his face. It was the first time he’d called me Dad in five years. Every time I was with Sage, he found a new way to burrow deeper into my heart. I wouldn’t have thought it possible. But again, he proved me wrong.

It took me a few seconds to recover and find my voice again.

I cleared my throat and tried to sound normal. Not like a man who had been waiting for over five years to be called Dad. “Do you mind taking off your shirt? It’s a pretty big tattoo, and I want to make sure to put it exactly where you want it.”

“Okay.” He peeled off his rash guard without a second thought and tossed it on the ground. I knelt before him and placed the press-on tattoo over his heart.

“Right here?”

He tipped his chin down. “Yep.”

Keeping it in place with my hand, I set the timer on my phone, and he stood still while I pressed the wet sponge against it. But I could tell he was holding his breath.

“You can breathe. Just stay still, okay?”

“Okay.”

While we waited the recommended time, his eyes were on the ocean. There was so much longing on his face. Like the sea was his home, and it was calling to him. When we were out on the boat today, he wasn’t the least bit nervous about snorkeling for the first time. Everything about the ocean and the sea creatures fascinated him.

Afterward, on the way to the restaurant, he said, “You know what my favorite thing about the ocean is? You don’t even have to hold yourself up. The ocean does it for you. And it doesn’t even matter how big you are. The ocean can still carry you.”

I kept thinking about those words. How the ocean can carry you. It seemed like a big concept for a little kid.