I was on a roll. This was way easier than I’d imagined it would be. It was almost invigorating, and if this was how Jax felt, the kid might have been even smarter than I’d thought.

“And so...well, if there is a place like that, which there is, do you really think our Jax would even dream of missing out on it?” I was quite proud of my deft quickstep followed by a sidestep. Until Norman hit me with his doublestep.

“So then, Mum, if there is a heaven, that...that means Granny and Grandad are there too, right?”

I realized I was just being blown off course from one shitstorm into another. “Mmmm.”

“So then, do you reckon they would...that they might be keeping an eye out for Jax? Do you reckon it matters if they don’t know what he looks like? And do...do you think they know he’s my best friend?”

I knew my limitations. “Norman, have you brushed your teeth tonight? I smell cheese.” I reached over to pat his leg, and it felt like stroking a ruler. His already tiny frame was becoming even thinner, and it scared me how small the pile of Norman under those sheets and blankets was. A sudden flashback to my father took its shot, opportunistic as always. The hours and days and sometimes even entire weeks that he’d take to his bed, skinny legs and arms surrendered in pajamas. Curtains closed, blankets drawn up to his chin, my cups of tea and carefully cut triangles of toast untouched. Me, sitting in school all day worrying, wondering how long until he came back to life this time. Leave me be, Sadie, love. Just let me sleep, there’s a good girl. I squeezed my eyes tight so I couldn’t see him anymore. My disappearing father. My disappearing son.

“Hey, Mum?” Norman’s voice was so soft I had to lean right in to catch it. “I reckon you’re right, though.” My heart did an extra pirouette then stubbed its toe on the way round just to show me who was in charge. There he goes, still trying to make you feel better, Sadie.

Seconds ticked by like omnibuses and, when it became clear to both of us there would be no more reassuring motherly advice forthcoming, Norman unfurled out of the bed. He still had his school uniform on underneath his pajamas. I stood up and wrapped both my arms around him as tight and close as I dared without knocking the top off a scab or hurting him and wondered if it were possible to hug the sadness out of someone. Squeeze and squeeze so hard that it just pops out the top of their head like a pimple, and then all that’s left is for time to do its work and heal it over. I felt Norman’s hip bone press against mine as he squeezed me tighter, too, and I wondered what he was trying to pop out of me. Answers, probably. Chance’d be a fine thing.