They still exchanged messages every day. Sometimes Ethan visited her when she felt well enough. Other times, they played online games while Lily rested at home.
He never treated her like she was fragile.
If she beat him at a game, he accused her of cheating.
If she made fun of his hair, he told her she had no right to criticize him while wearing a knitted cap.
And when she was tired, he stayed on the phone without demanding that she entertain him.
I was proud of him.
But I didn’t know how deeply her illness had affected him until one evening in early spring.
I was folding laundry in the living room when he appeared in the doorway.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Can people make wigs out of real hair?”
I looked up.
“Of course. Some organizations use donated hair to make wigs for people who’ve lost theirs. Why?”
He hesitated.
