Harder We Fade by Kate Dawes

to keep this?”
    “I’ve had it for years, and it’s one of my most precious possessions, but I want you to have it. When Max and I left his father, I didn’t bring much with me. But this was one of those things. In the back of my mind, I thought it might be of value in case we had to sell it. Sterling silver might have fetched a hundred dollars or so, and it would have been good in a pinch, but thankfully I didn’t have to sell it.”
    I thought back to Max telling me how he had blackmailed his father before leaving, and that was the money that kept them afloat for a while. I wondered if his mother knew that, but there was no way I was going to ask.
    “Oh, no,” I said, genuinely feeling sorry for her, but also at the thought of the two of them trying to make a new life away from the abusive man she married and who fathered the man I loved.
    I was feeling a bit unworthy of taking this amazing gift, but I also knew I couldn’t reject it. That would have been an insult of the highest order.
    I reached out for her and we hugged.
    “I want you to have it,” she said, “because you’re going to be Max’s wife and the mother of his children.”
    I pulled back from her, my arms still on her shoulders. I could feel my eyes drying out quickly from being open wide and not being able to blink.
    “Relax,” she said. “I don’t know when it’s going to happen. I just know it is. I can read my son. Trust me. And I don’t know when you’ll have your first child. I may not be around to see the day.”

SEVEN
    A few days before flying to Ohio for Christmas, I went to see Max’s mother. Alone.
    With things becoming serious between Max and me, I wanted to be a part of his entire world, and for me that meant making an effort to be closer with his mom, someone who was extremely important in his life.
    I told Max that I wanted to make it a day trip, treat Paula to lunch, and give her the Christmas gift I’d purchased for her.
    So I called Paula that morning and surprised her. I figured she wouldn’t have any plans, as she didn’t do much socially, and she said she’d be excited to see me.
    I picked her up at her house and we went to a little restaurant tucked between a shoe store and a nail place in a strip mall.
    The place had a wood floor that creaked with each step, and the air was redolent of grilled meat and steamed vegetables. A perky hostess lead us to a table near the front of the restaurant where Paula sat with her back to the window and I sat across from her, with a clear view of the sidewalk and street.
    We both ordered salads with grilled salmon chunks and as we ate, she told me more about Max as a child.
    “He was always a little introverted and quiet. Did he ever tell you the story about how he didn’t talk until he was four?”
    I stopped chewing, surprised, and shook my head.
    She laughed lightly. “He made noises and the typical cooing that you’d expect from a baby. But the more his father and I tried to get him to speak, the more he would look at us like we were aliens or something. We became concerned about it, so I took him to the pediatrician.”
    “Wow.”
    She nodded, sipping her tea. “Yeah, we had just reached a point of panic, I suppose. We knew he wasn’t deaf — he would respond to noises — but we feared maybe it was something neurological. But it wasn’t anything. You know what the doctor told me?”
    “What?”
    “He said, ‘Maybe he just doesn’t have anything to say.’”
    We both laughed at that. Not only because it was a funny comment coming from a medical professional, but because we were talking about Max, whose entire life was built around using words.
    Actually, written words more than spoken, now that I thought of it. Maybe that had something to do with him being more comfortable writing words that others would speak.
    Then again, he was never at a loss of words when it came to me….
    “He’s nothing like that now,” I said, not elaborating any further.
    “Oh,