Only Ever Almost

On the fourth day after my son, Caleb, died, I ran into Flint Dumpsey in the hospital corridor.He had one hand protectively over Lucy Wendell and the other holding their child's hand. They were the perfect picture of a happy family. Yet I was his wife.The smile vanished from Flint's face the moment he saw me."What are you doing here? Are you trying to cause trouble for Lucy again?" he asked, eyes sharper and colder than Caleb's still body.Lucy casually looped her arm through his and glanced at me with an embarrassed, apologetic smile. "Sorry, Amanda. Flint's just been so worried about me, that's why he sounded harsh." She nudged her child and motioned for him to speak.The boy glanced my way and then called out dutifully, "Hello."Then he scrambled into Flint's arms and chirped, "Daddy."Once, hearing that would have squeezed my heart with a bitter ache. Now I felt only exhaustion — deep, bone-deep fatigue. I drew a steadying breath, intending to tell him that our son had

The night after we registered for elementary school, Flint wasn't home. I sat in the courtyard with Caleb, enjoying the cool air.He lay across my lap, watching me stitch while he chattered, "Mom, once I start school, I'll study hard. Someday I'll serve the country, just like Dad."A few days later, because of Flint's indifference, Caleb never lived to see the start of school.Caleb was only seven. He had just registered for first grade.He never got to shoulder the schoolbag I had sewn for him. He never got to greet his new classmates and teachers. He never got to tell Flint that his dream was to protect the nation—just like his father.I closed my eyes and let the tears stream down, soaking the schoolbag in my hands. On it was the name I had embroidered myself: Caleb Dumpsey. The sight tore something open inside me, and I broke down in sobs I could no longer hold back.It wasn't until the staff placed the urn in my arms that I forced myself to stop crying and stagger out of the

"What's this? What is going on?" Flint asked, bewildered.I looked at the photo on the chair and forced a bitter laugh. "Can't you see? Caleb is gone…"The schoolbag fell from Flint's hands as he stared at me in disbelief."What did you say? Gone? A perfectly healthy child can't just be gone like that."Of course not. A few days ago, he'd been running around calling me "Mommy" with bright eyes, full of excitement for school. He shouldn't have died like this—if not for a father who turned away."Say something!" Flint shook my shoulders hard, as if that could erase what he'd done. He had already forgotten how he'd abandoned our son."Do you even remember what the last time you saw him looked like?" I spat.That day, Caleb's face was flushed; he collapsed into my arms, struggling to breathe. Flint only glanced at him and declared he was faking it. If he hadn't refused to help, if he hadn't walked away, Caleb would've been saved.In that moment, if looks could be knives, I would ha

I dropped my head, unwilling to conjure excuses for Flint any longer.Hurt is hurt—whether intentional or not, it left a scar in Caleb's heart."Afterward, I tried to comfort Caleb," I said. "I told him once he started school, things would get better, that he'd make lots of new friends. But he never got to wait for that…"I lifted my face and stared at Flint until the well of hatred inside me spilled into endless tears."Flint, do you know what Caleb said to me the day we registered?" I choked out.Regret and unease clouded his eyes."He said he felt sorry for you, how hard you work every day. He promised he'd study hard and, like his father, be a hero who serves the nation."Flint's gaze dropped to the new schoolbag at his feet. Pain twisted his face; tears slipped free and could not be halted. I grabbed my luggage, cast one last look at this house, and turned away.Between the train station and the compound, there was only one shuttle bus.On the way here from my hometown,

Flint forced himself up from the bed, only to see a warm pool of yellow light spilling from the living room.He pushed the door open and found Caleb looking up at him with delight, clutching a stack of cardboard models. The boy beamed and invited him, "Daddy, will you play with me?"Flint nodded, surprised and pleased. They played on the floor, laughing, until he looked up and saw me sitting beneath the lamp, sewing a bright blue new schoolbag.The next instant, someone knocked at the door. When Flint turned, both Caleb and I were gone. He called our names anxiously, but the apartment was silent—no answer came.The knocking grew more urgent, then Lucy's concerned voice drifted through the hallway. "Flint! Flint, are you in there?"Outside, wrapped in a wool coat, she pressed her face to the window from time to time, peering in. Flint had drawn the curtains tight to shut out the neighbors' pitying gazes. He had lost track of time in the dim, closed room.He had promised Jesse he'd