Andrew paused. It was the million-dollar question.
— “Buddy, I don’t know. I really don’t. But I know that you look happier today than you have in a long time. And that means something to me.”
— “I liked him. He talks differently than other people.”
— “How so?”
— “He doesn’t sound sorry for me. He talks to me like I’m just a regular kid.”
Andrew felt a lump in his throat. He sometimes forgot how observant Matthew was, even without his sight.
— “You *are* a regular kid, Matthew. You’re my son, and you’re perfect exactly as you are.”
— “I know, Dad. But it would be nice to see your face again.”
That night, Andrew barely slept. He lay there wondering if he was doing the right thing. Rationally, it was nonsense. But emotionally, seeing Matthew’s hope was priceless. Karen was on the other side of the bed, clearly awake but pretending to sleep. He knew she was angry. Around 2:00 AM, he got up and checked on Matthew. The boy was sleeping soundly with a faint smile on his face. Andrew hadn’t seen him that peaceful in years.
The next morning, Andrew was in the kitchen early. Karen was already there, nursing a cup of coffee in silence.
— “Morning,” he said, trying to keep things light.
— “Morning.”
The silence stretched as Andrew made his own coffee. Finally, Karen spoke.
— “Andrew, we need to talk about yesterday.”
— “I figured.”
— “Are you really going to let this kid perform some kind of ritual on our son?”
Andrew turned to face her.
— “Karen, what are you actually afraid of? That he’ll hurt Matthew? That he’ll make things worse? Or that he’ll prove we gave up too soon?”
— “I’m afraid you’re giving Matthew false hope. He’s been through enough.”
— “And you don’t think he has a right to choose? He’s asking for a chance.”
— “He’s a child. Children don’t always know what’s best for them.”
Andrew sighed. This was the same argument they’d been having in different forms for two years.
— “Karen, I’m not saying I believe in miracles. I’m saying that for the first time in two years, our son is interested in the world again. Doesn’t that count for something?”
Karen was quiet for a long moment.
— “Andrew, I just… I can’t watch him get his heart broken again. I’m scared this will just lead to more pain.”
Andrew walked over and took her hands.
— “I get it. But what if we don’t try, and Matthew spends the rest of his life wondering ‘what if’? I couldn’t live with that.”
Before Karen could respond, they heard Matthew calling from upstairs.
— “Dad! Mom! Is Sam here yet?”
