“You need to understand all the risks,” he kept saying. “All of them.”
“I do.”
“There’s a chance of infection. There’s a chance of total rejection. There’s a small chance—”
“Nigel. I understand.”
He stopped reading.
He was quiet for a long time.
“I just want you to know what you’re agreeing to,” he said finally. “Everything you’re agreeing to.”
It was an odd thing to say. I didn’t know what to make of it.
We told the kids together, over the phone with Ethan and at dinner with Rose.
Rose burst into tears. Then she ran around the table and hugged me so hard my chair tipped back.
“You’ll see me,” she said into my shoulder. “You’ll actually see me.”
“I’ll actually see you.”
“Oh my God. I need a haircut.”
Ethan, on the phone, was quiet for a long time. He’s like his father that way. He goes quiet when he feels things too much.
