Proof of Heaven Read Online Free PDF Page A

lap. Right, Bud?”
    Colm didn’t say a word, but he turned his back to her and lifted his arms so his mother could sit down and scoop him up as he slid effortlessly onto her lap the way all children do.
    â€œIt won’t be long before you’ll be too big for this,” Cathleen whispered into Colm’s ear.
    â€œI’m already too big for this,” Colm grumbled, surprising himself—and his mother—with his honesty.
    The man without the oxygen tank, now finished with his forms, looked over at Cathleen and sat up a little straighter. Cathleen felt his gaze and ignored him. But Colm caught the old man looking, and he knew why. His mother was beautiful. When he was very small, he thought he was the only one who thought his mother was the prettiest woman in the world. He had loved to hold her face in his hands and stare at her green eyes. And he often ran his dimpled hands through her long black hair and wrapped his small arms around her neck, his fingertips barely touching because his arms were so small. He could stay there forever, smelling the faint perfume of her shampoo. It had been a while since he had hugged her in that way, but now with the old man ogling her, he snuggled into her and glared, as he often did, at her adoring fans.
    He wanted desperately for the nurse to call his name, to take his mother away from these men. The old man with the oxygen tank made his move and touched Cathleen’s thigh. Colm swung his leg and knocked the man’s hand with so much force that the man pulled back and gasped.
    Cathleen quickly wrapped her arms around Colm, while apologizing to the old man. “Oh, I am so sorry. His leg must have just slipped.”
    Colm glared at the man, while clinging tightly to Cathleen.
    â€œYou’re too young and pretty to be here. You seeing Dr. Basu too?” the old man asked.
    Cathleen smiled and said a quiet yes. She kept her eyes downcast, focusing on the boy’s kneecaps, so she didn’t have to share any more information.
    â€œCOAL-M Magee,” the nurse called, mispronouncing his name.
    Cathleen let out a sigh of relief. “That’s us, Bud.”
    The old men looked at each other as Cathleen scooted Colm off her lap, and he ran through the door. She corrected the nurse’s pronouncement of his name as she passed her.
    â€œIt’s Col-um. Pronounced like a newspaper column.”
    â€œSorry ’bout that.”
    â€œNo problem. It happens all the time.”
    Again, exasperated, Cathleen and Colm waited for another half hour in the examining room. Colm climbed up on the doctor’s chair and looked out the window, staring down at the small cars and people below. He leaned his lips against the glass and blew air through his cheeks, making puffing sounds and laughing.
    Cathleen, just as bored as Colm, watched the clock. She had missed another day of work. There would be no explaining another day off to her boss. She had been hired just out of college as an office assistant to the head interior designer with the promise of advancement. At the time she was pregnant already, though still not showing. It was a miracle she got the job at all and that they didn’t fire her the minute they found out. She knew legally they couldn’t do that, but firing someone in design, pregnant or not, was never hard to do in New York City.
    She promised them that she would work harder than anyone after the baby was born. But once Colm had actually arrived, she could never keep up with the interns and junior designers, who were more able to put in extra time to prove their worth and whose ideas seemed fresher. She was always so tired and usually distracted by some crisis at home, whether with Colm or her brother, to ever contribute. Sometimes, when she was overtired, she took five minutes to feel sorry for herself, bemoan her sacrificed career, her wasted youth. She knew she wasn’t the first woman to give up her career for her child,