by Dee Palmer
“A little extreme.” Dr Chan’s eyes widen with horror.
“Sorry, inappropriate humour is my default when I’m scared shh…less.” I manage to censor my language since I’m now no longer whispering.
“Regan, stop hearing zebras.” Dr Chan rubs one of my arms, which, like Ruby’s tight little protective form, is folded across my waist. I feel like I’m trying to hold myself together. I know Dr Chan is right. and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. I’m hearing hooves, seeing zebras, and already praying it’s not leukaemia.
“It’s probably just an infection.” I nod and smile in agreement because that’s what you do in these situations. I’ve seen it a hundred times on the faces of terrified parents as they process the incomprehensible.
“It’s always so much harder treating people in the profession,” Dr Chan sighs, and I let out a flat, humourless laugh.
“Oh, I think Google has levelled that playing field. Isn’t everyone an expert now?” I push down the rising tide of answerable questions and carry on, because that’s what people do too.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Okay.” I give a curt nod and a tight smile, stoic and determined to get this done and dusted. I walk over to Ruby and drop down onto my haunches so we are eye level. I pull one of her hands free and try to ease her fingers out of the tight fist she has clenched. She lets me and that trust makes me buckle with the weight of what I have to ask. “Hey, baby girl, I’m really sorry, but Dr Chan needs a little bit more of your blood.”
“No!” Her lip wobbles, her face wrinkles with sorrow, and huge tears burst like a dam and flood her tiny face. She doesn’t howl or screech, she just sobs and trembles, and it’s me that wants to howl.
“I know, baby. Please don’t cry. I’ll take you to the gift shop, and you can choose any sweet at all…even one of the boxes.” My bribery knows no bounds.
“Momma, no, please, it hurts. Please don’t let them hurt me.” Oh, god. I drop my head in my hands, guilt-ridden and impotent. I turn to face Dr Chan, and before I make eye contact, I snap back around, too late to rectify my mistake. I’d let go!
“Ruby! Wait, no!” I call out as she slips like an eel through my outstretched hands and bolts to the door. She pulls the handle and dashes through the tiny gap, a blur of long dark curls, bright blue Disney princess costume and black patent mini Doc Marten boots. I scramble to my feet and race to catch her.
She disappears around the corner at the end of the long sterile corridor. I sprint, weaving through the nurses, patients, gurneys, and everything else that seems to be gathered just to aid her escape. Man, she’s fast for a child with restricted lung capacity.
I skid around the corner and come to a comical halt, face-to-face with Ruby at my eye level, held high on Joel’s hip.
“Joel, what are you doing here?” The shock makes my question more an aggressive accusation. He ignores me, his sole focus on Ruby. I’m right to be surprised. It’s not like he’s ventured into the wrong part of the hospital. This is a whole other hospital, all the way across town from where we both work.
“Hey, there, Ruby, or is it Elsa?” He points to the centre of her silky Princess costume from Frozen that she insisted on wearing today. “Why all the tears, princess?”
“Momma wants the doctors to hurt me again.” She twists the words to pierce right through me, and the thing is, I know she doesn’t mean to. She just tells the truth as her five-year-old brain sees it. I do want her to take another blood test.
“Ruby, I…” My shoulders sag, and my eyes glaze with sadness and defeat.
“Hey, Regan, it’s all right. Come on, I can’t have the two prettiest girls in the whole world crying on me. What will everyone think?” His tone is joking. He stares at me with concern and confusion etching his handsome features. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Ruby’s here for her check-up, and they need some more blood.” I blink back the threat of tears and focus on what needs to be done, not how frustrating and awful that is making me feel.
“Why here at Mercy, why not at CMC?”
“I work at CMC.”
“And?”
“And it’s no one’s business, including yours, where I choose to take Ruby for her check-up.” I reach for Ruby, and she shakes her head and snuggles against Joel’s chest, which does strange things to my insides. I’m torn between devastation that she won’t come to me, even if I totally understand why, and a warm, fuzzy feeling that she’s drawing comfort from a man I—
“What’s the check-up about?” Joel interrupts my messed up mind and thankfully slams that door well and truly shut with his intrusive question.
“Which bit of not your business do you need me to explain exactly?” I snap.
“Fine, you’re right. This has nothing to do with me.” He lifts Ruby from his side and carefully hands her to me. I’m relieved when she reaches for me and thankful she really isn’t one to hold her grudge against me for too long. I take her and relish the way her small body instinctively wraps around mine, even if she is mad at me.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. I just hate being a momma sometimes.” My arms constrict like a snake, and I hug her so tight my voice catches with the emotion surging through me. I never knew it was possible to love this hard.
“You want me to do it?”
“You that keen to have another female hate you on sight?” I scoff.
“Oh, Reggie, you couldn’t hate me if you tried.” He winks, and his cocky arrogance washes over me like an ice bucket challenge.
“The day’s not over yet, Doctor.” I state emphatically and feel Ruby stiffen in my arms at the title. “Did you forget Joel is a doctor, Ruby? That would explain the uncharacteristic cuddle,” I muse, but she shakes her head.
“I’m a very cuddly person, and I’m a very special doctor.” He tucks Ruby’s long lock behind her ear and bops her button nose. She giggles and I feel her relax and become putty in my arms. “Hey, Ruby, I bet I can take your blood without you feeling a thing.”
“No,” she answers, but her body doesn’t tense, which is definitely a first and encouraging. I don’t tell Joel that.
“You’re going to need to up your game if you think she’s going to fall for that one, Dr Prescott.”
“So it would seem.” He taps his lip with his forefinger, his face the picture of someone deep in thought. Ruby giggles with the expressions he pulls, first seemingly coming to a perfect solution and then flipping to one-eighty and going back to the drawing board. He finally raises his finger and offers his suggestion with all seriousness. “Ruby, how about if you let me take your blood, I let you take some of mine.”
“What?” My jaw drops.
“Really?” Ruby asks with awe, and I’m dumbstruck at his ridiculous suggestion.
“Sure, with a little help from your momma, what do you think?” He leans in conspiratorially, his caveat lessens the potential for a bloodbath, but I’m not sure Ruby will be swayed.
“All right.” She answers before my mistake takes a firm bite out of my ass.
“You know there’s no way the hospital will let you do that.” The voice of reason raises its head, even if I’m curious if this is a genuine offer, and hopeful it is, because a compliant Ruby is so much better than a shaking, screaming, terrified Ruby.
“Then we won’t tell them.” He replies in a tone that should be punctuated with ‘duh’ because I’m obviously the idiot here.
“At least you won’t get fired unless you work here too.”
“I don’t work here, I was just visiting.” He pauses and I’m surprised when he volunteers more. I wanted to, but I wasn’t going to ask. “Visiting a friend.”
And there it is.
“Well, at least you’re keeping your booty calls out of our workplace. I suppose that’s an improvement.” My tone drips with bitter jealousy. I wish this didn’t bother me so much, and I really wish I could hide the fact that it does, even a little bit would
be good. I break the intense eye contact, afraid if my tone hasn’t already given away my mess of emotions, staring into my eyes like he is definitely would. I’m grateful when he chooses to throw me a welcome bone.
“Not a booty call. My sister is here having some tests. She found a lump on her breast, that’s why she came to see me at Christmas,” he clarifies, and I’m taken aback and a little ashamed at my immediate gutter assumption.
“Oh, Joel, I’m sorry, but why say friend?”
“I wasn’t going to say anything, Regan. Apparently, this isn’t a sharing situation,” he points out with a flat expression and a thick helping of attitude. “I thought ‘friend’ was vague enough, then I realised how it would sound to you. Anyway, it’s fine; it was benign. Trinity is going to be fine.”
“Oh, I’m glad.” Ruby starts to wriggle, and I let her slide to the floor. She slips between us and takes my hand, then Joel’s, tugging us forward, back toward Dr Chan’s consulting room. “You know I didn’t even know you had a sister. Was she kept locked in a tower until she was twenty-one or something?”
“Sort of, and she’s my stepsister. She went to boarding school full-time, and I mean full-time. She rarely came home at all, and when she did…well, honestly, she was a bit of a freak.”
“The woman I saw at Christmas, the one that looked like she belonged on the cover of Vogue you mean? She’s a freak?”
“Was…was a freak. She’s cool now, but back then, when she did come home for the holidays she never spoke. She locked herself in her room, ate her meals there, and only came out when her father ordered her to. I was actually glad when she went back to school; the tension in the house was palpable. Anyway, a few years ago, she made contact, we had lunch, and she was like a whole other person. She’s great, funny, and intelligent. In fact, I think she’d give Harper a run for her money in the brains department. She travels a lot with her job, so I don’t see her very often, and she still doesn’t come to family gatherings unless Bradford demands it, but she’s nice. She’d like you.” he adds, and I can’t help the hot flash with the memory of me spread-eagled on Joel’s kitchen counter last Christmas Eve.
“Oh, I’m sure, especially after our first introduction.”
“Fair point.” He wiggles his brow playfully, and his eyes shine wickedly, no doubt with the very same image. “She’s cool and all, but don’t get me wrong, she’s extremely judgmental.”
“I won’t hold that against her; with you, there’s a lot to judge.”
“Cute. Don’t you ever get vertigo?”
“Eh?”
“Up on that high horse of yours.”
“I don’t have a high horse, Joel, I have history…with you. Trust me, judgment is justified.”
“Whatever,” He shrugs off the inferred character attack, and I’m happy not to elaborate. I’m glad he decides to enlighten me a little more regarding Trinity instead. “Anyway, it turns out she was never a freak; she just hated her father so much she preferred to stay away. I can’t fault her for that. The guy’s an asshole.”
“Your mother clearly doesn’t think so.”
“My mother has been in a drunken stupor since my father died. I doubt she even knows Bradford is her second husband, let alone that she also has a stepdaughter.”
“I’m sorry.” He reaches Dr Chan’s room, and I turn to face him. My hand absently strokes the side of his face, and his day-old stubble scratches my soft palm. He presses against my touch but quickly lifts his head and breaks the contact.
“First world problem, Reggie, first world problems.” He shrugs, and I only partially believe his attempt at an airy dismissal.
“I guess. Still it must have been lonely.” I poke where I know I’m not wanted.
“Family is overrated. Lonely worked fine for me. I had my friends.” His jaw tightens. I can feel the shutters coming down, and I understand better than most. Some things are not for sharing.
“Amen to that.” I exhale and force out a light laugh, trying to lift the weighty dark cloud that has started to sink down around us both. “Are you sure you want to do this? Because you can’t renege on this little one. She’s like an elephant; she never forgets.” Ruby looks up as we both look down, her smile fixed and fearless, and I couldn’t be prouder.
“Man of my word,” he states as if carving each word in stone. He pushes the handle on the door, swings it wide, and motions for us both to enter.
“We’ll see.” I say as I pass in front of him. His arm slices down and stops me right on the threshold. My breath catches as his lips brush the side of my face. His hot breath washes over my face, down the side of my neck, and I lean to give him all the access he might need. Jeeze, Regan, show some restraint.
“Man. Of. My. Word.” He sears each word on my skin with his scorching breath, and I swear he’s so close, those words are being etched somewhere deep inside of me as a permanent reminder of a sinful threat or a delicious promise. I believe him. Unfortunately, that’s the problem.
“What have I done? I’m so sorry, oh, god, I’m so sorry.” The mother of the little boy just rushed in howls, a chilling, terrified sound that makes the hairs on my neck stand. She clings to the rail of the cot, knuckles pale, and rivers of tears streak her ghostly face.
“Move back,” Joel demands, his tone harsh but ineffective. She can’t move. I know that look, the guilt. I recognise the fear. Placing my hand on her arm, I squeeze and try to move her away before Joel is forced to call security, or more likely, judging by the dark scowl across his face, physically pick her up and throw her out of the way.
“You need to let the doctor do his job, ma’am,” I say, and she seems to spark to life, nodding wildly. She releases her hold on the cot as if shocked with a bolt of electricity. She steps back, and I gently ease her farther away so the team can work unhindered.
I have the best co-workers, and if Joel needs me, he’ll yell. His focus is rightly on the baby, but it’s clear as day to me there are two casualties in this room. This very young woman is breaking before me, and if her little boy survives, he’s going to need his momma. “You did the right thing bringing him in. He’s in the best hands.”
“He wouldn’t stop crying, days and days. He cried for days, and I just needed five minutes of quiet.” She grabs my arms and starts to shake me, only to end up a trembling wreck, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Shh, this isn’t helping your son. Please let me take you to wait outside.” I pull her toward the door when she wrenches herself free of my hold and rushes back to her baby.
“I want to help,” she cries.
“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” Joel snarls, disgust colouring his open hostility.
“Doctor Prescott!”
“Get her out of here, Nurse Jones, before I call the police.”
“Come with me; I’ll take you to the relatives’ lounge. Come on,” Holding her shoulders, I manoeuvre her out of the room. Whatever strength was holding her rigid in that space evaporates when we reach the threshold and she looks back at the hive of activity working around the little naked body in the cot.
“Is he going to be all right? Please say he’s going to be all right. I never meant to…” She breaks, guttural sobs rip from her body as I lead her down the corridor away from her baby. He has only just been transferred from the ER. I did the preliminary examination before Joel arrived, and although barely conscious, he was stable, and there were no other signs of abuse. I need to calm her down to understand exactly what happened even as my stomach churns with a sick, familiar feeling. I think I know exactly what happened.
The relatives’ lounge is brightly lit, with large coloured murals on the walls. Fairy tales and fantasy worlds where children never get sick or harmed in any way, and magical adventures await the very brave. Toys lie scattered in one corner, and there is a set of low and comfortable sofas where I sit the mother before fetching some water.
“Here, sip this, and tell me exactly what happened.” I sit and face her. He
r eyes meet mine, and as if the words are taking their time to register, her face slowly distorts from sadly vacant to utter despair and horror.
“I…I…Oh, god, what have I done? Is he going to die? Why won’t he wake up?”
“What’s your name?” I calmly ask, unable to answer her questions even if I wanted to.
“Lyla,”
“How old are you, Lyla?”
“What’s that got to do with it?” she snaps and lurches back, affronted and defensive.
“Calm down, I didn’t mean anything by it.” I try to soothe and offer a placatory smile. I need her to open up to me if I’m to help. And she doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to need my help.
“I’m seventeen, and I’m a good mom.” Her face screws into ugly, pain-ridden contortions, and she folds into herself, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist as if that will ease her agony. It won’t; nothing will, not until she knows her baby is going to be all right.
“I believe you.” I take her hand in mine, a surge of emotion mixes with my own empathy and churns like a storm inside me. I know.
“I can’t lose him. He’s all I’ve got to remind me that Kirk even existed.”
“Kirk?”
“Ricki’s father, high school sweethearts, ya know.” The briefest smile flashes over her face and is instantly gone again. “He died in a car accident before Ricki was born. My parents kicked me out when I got pregnant. It was me and him, and I was happy, scared, but happy, and now I’m on my own. I love Ricki, I do, and we’re happy too. I was just so tired, so very tired.” Her eyes are swollen and red, and her face is a picture of heartbreak and devastation I can only imagine, so much loss at such a young age.
“I know,” I say, because that, at least, I don’t have to imagine.
“I’m so sorry,”
“I know that too, Lyla. Can you tell me exactly what happened? It might help with Ricki’s treatment if we know more.”
“He was crying and crying. I’d done everything, fed, changed, sung to him. He didn’t have a temperature of anything, I checked. He was fine; he just wouldn’t stop, not for a minute, and I only wanted five minutes peace. I…I took him to his crib, and where I normally lay him down carefully, I let him drop from my hands. He just kept crying. I screamed at him to stop, told him I hated him. What mother does that?” She sobs, broken, and it takes a full painful minute for her breathing to calm enough to carry on with her confession. ”I left. I shut the door and walked out of my apartment.”