Evan gave an assertive shake of his head.
Clearly, he knew the importance of that answer.
“That’s good. Why don’t you lie back so I can check your belly?”
He didn’t hesitate. He shifted and laid on his back, and I stood over him, my fingertips checking his abdomen for any lumps or bumps, examining all the quadrants, watching his face for any kind of reaction. “Anything feel funny when I do that?”
He smiled when he gave another shake of his head.
And the examination continued that way. Like he was any kid who walked through my door. Which of course, I cared about every single patient I saw.
They were the reason I lived.
Why I devoted my life.
But this one . . . this one left me with a lump the size of a grapefruit in my throat and my heart battering my ribcage.
I stood over him, pretending like I didn’t want to drop to my knees and tell him I’d make it better if I could.
Pretending I didn’t want to say a million things to his mom and demand a million things of her in return.
Instead, I carried on like this was perfectly normal while tension I hoped Evan didn’t notice bounded through the tight space, ricocheting from the walls and echoing in the air.
Swore, I could taste the woman on my breath and hear her moan in my ear.
God. This was brutal.
I patted his knee when I finished. “All done.”
Rolling the stool to the counter, I set my laptop on it, cleared my throat, and tried not to really look at her when I started going over all the shit I normally did first with the parents but had been too shocked to focus on when I’d found her there.
I asked Hope about his diet and exercise and if she had any concerns while thousands of unsaid questions roiled between us.
I told her he was at the fifth percentile in height and weight, to be expected for his condition, that as long as he was eating well, it was nothing to worry about.
Right.
Nothing to worry about.
Because worry surrounded her like a dark, ominous cloud. But with a simple glance at her kid, that storm was obliterated with the force of a thousand suns.
“Thank you, Dr. Bryant,” she said, eyes downcast as if she couldn’t physically bring herself to look at me.
She stood, took Evan’s hand, and helped him down. She ran a tender hand through his hair and then signed something I didn’t understand.
He beamed up at her.
Clearly, she hung the little boy’s moon.
Watching it felt like I was being shredded in two.
I looked at him, trying to loosen my jaw. No doubt, he’d recognize if I was grinding my teeth.
“It was great to meet you, Evan. I . . .” I hesitated, suddenly feeling like a fool. Like maybe I was the brunt of a cruel, sick joke. So out of sorts, I had no clue how to decipher up from down.
Still, I didn’t want to treat him any different from anyone else, so I plucked one of the lollipops from the box and bent at the knees to offer it to him. “Here. This is for you . . . if your mom says it’s okay.”
His face lit up, and Hope choked over a tiny sob that I knew she was doing her best to hide. I paused, reluctant to turn and look her way. I’d told Hope that night that I didn’t know her all that well, but some things a person couldn’t miss. And I knew without a doubt that Hope was at her breaking point.
She’d warned me her life was complicated. I guessed I couldn’t really grasp what that really meant until right then when all those threads I could sense her hanging by started to weave together. Taking shape in my mind. The fact she was in the middle of a nasty divorce.
Dread settled over me like a sheet of ice, awareness taking hold. Suddenly, I was sure all that nasty had to do with the well-being of this kid.
Evan yanked at her arm, signed something quickly. Casting him a soft smile, she nodded, and he took the candy, grinning at it like he was in awe before he pushed past me toward the counter.
Hiking up onto his toes, he grabbed the pen and the pad with the clinic info at the top, tongue sticking out at the side in concentration as he scribbled something across the paper.
When he was finished, the beaming was directed at me, the kid getting under my skin as quickly as his mom had as he stood there with the pad of paper lifted up to me like an offering.
Unsure what to do, I glanced at Hope.
Her voice scratched. “He wants to be able to talk to you himself. Not through me. He said it’s a secret.”