‘I know. The point is, I have to make more of an effort not to let Maccy into the office.’ Prita patted her shoulder, smiling softly, the dimples lightly in evidence, but still making Flynn wish they were aimed at him. ‘You go. I’ll take care of it after I finish with Aaron. Okay?’
Cherry blew out a breath. ‘Oh, but it’s your b—’
‘No, I insist. Don’t leave your man waiting any longer.’
‘Oh, sometimes it’s good to leave a man waiting.’ The dimples deepened as Cherry waggled her brows at Prita. ‘But if you insist.’
‘I do. Go.’
Cherry leaned in and kissed Prita, whispering something that Flynn didn’t quite catch before she turned around. ‘I’ll walk you out, Flynn.’
‘I’ll come out with you and help get him in,’ Prita said.
‘No. I can get him in myself.’ Aaron was like him—he hated people fussing over him. ‘You stay here.’
‘Grumpy,’ he heard Prita mutter as he marched back out the door, Cherry close on his heels after she’d waved Prita good night again.
‘You should be nicer to that girl,’ Cherry said as she headed to the car parked next to his.
‘I’m nice.’
‘You know it’s her birthday, don’t you?’
Damn. He’d forgotten. Nat and Barb had invited her over for a BBQ to celebrate tomorrow night, but he did know it was today. She was supposed to be having some kind of celebration with Carter tonight, but instead, she was stuck here with him. ‘Maybe I should just take Aaron down to the hospital and let her get on with her celebration.’
A snort greeted that statement. ‘As if she’d let you do that.’ Cherry peered through the window of his car. ‘Hey, Aaron. You don’t look so good.’
His pasty-faced son smiled bravely. ‘Dad thinks I’ve dislocated my shoulder.’ He indicated gingerly to the arm that was in a sling.
Cherry nodded sagely. ‘You should be more careful climbing that wall.’
‘He didn’t do it climbing the wall. He got thrown off Rebel.’
‘Dad!’
Cherry nodded sagely. ‘Ahh, yes. Well that explains it. I told you that horse would be more trouble than it was worth when you bought him. Nasty look in his eye.’
‘He hasn’t been treated well, that’s all. Some love and affection and good food will make all the difference.’
‘You saying that after he tossed your boy in the dirt?’
‘Aaron knew he wasn’t ready to be ridden yet. We have to re-train him. Whoever broke him in should be castrated.’ He shook his head. ‘Damaging and mistreating a beautiful animal like that.’ His voice was heating up. People who treated animals badly were as bad as those who hurt children—innocents who couldn’t defend themselves should be loved and cared for, taught right from wrong with a firm hand tempered by love and patience and never with the hand of cruelty and dismissal. He’d seen too much the effects of that over the years with friends he’d grown up with and now the kids that came to Nat and Reid’s camps at CoalCliff. If he could do more for them, he would.
‘Well, you’re lucky it wasn’t worse,’ Cherry said.
He was. Bloody lucky. The sight of his son lying in the dirt had panic clawing at his chest, breath caught there, heart speeding up so fast all he could hear was the roar of blood through his head. If he could, he’d wrap Aaron in cotton wool and never let him go anywhere or do anything where he might get hurt. He had rules in place to protect his adventurous son as much as possible, but he was proving to be more and more like Reid and he’d been a regular patient of Prita’s too many times over the past year or so as a result.
Every single time Flynn blamed himself, wondered if he was fit to be a father. Every single time Barb sat him down and had ‘the talk’. He knew he’d get it tonight too when they got home. He could recite it word for word: Boys will be boys and Aaron getting hurt doesn’t make you a bad parent. You know that, don’t you?
He’d nod and assure her he knew he was a good parent, but …
‘You better get this young man inside,’ Cherry said. ‘Doctor Prita will have something to help you with the pain, Aaron. You’ll be feeling better in no time.’
‘I hope so. It hurts like a b …’
‘Aaron!’ Flynn said, ignoring Cherry’s sniggers. ‘You know what we say about swearing.’
‘I know. But Reid says swearing is okay if you’re really hurt. I’m really hurt.’ He shifted and winced, his face paling even further. ‘Bloody hell.’
Cherry burst into laughter.
Flynn sighed, giving up that argument for now. ‘Come on, slide on over and I’ll help you out of the car. Do you think you can walk?’
‘I’m not a baby, Dad.’
No. He wasn’t.
Aaron shifted, winced, tears welling in his eyes.
‘You okay, A-man?’
Aaron blinked rapidly, his gaze sliding to Cherry who was still standing behind Flynn. ‘Can you ask Cherry to go, Dad?’ he whispered, voice full of tears. ‘I don’t want to cry in front of her.’
Yep. Just like his dad. ‘Okay.’ He went to ruffle Aaron’s hair but then thought better of it, given any movement was likely to hurt his boy right now. He turned, using his big body to block Aaron from Cherry’s sight. ‘Thanks, Cherry, for waiting to see if he’s okay, but I’ve got this. Besides, isn’t Frank waiting for you at the Wally Pub?’
‘Yep. Better get going. Good luck, Aaron.’ She blew him a kiss and hopped in her car and roared off out of the car park, leaving a blow of dust in her wake.
‘Okay, A-man. It’s all clear. Take your time and try to keep that shoulder as still as possible.’
‘I know, Dad.’ He gritted his teeth and gingerly moved his legs out of the cab of the ute—thankfully, he’d grown tall enough that the drop from the seat to the ground wasn’t far at all, but Flynn still put his hand out, steadying his son so the jolt to the ground would be minimal. The tear tracks running through the dust caked on his boy’s freckled cheeks stabbed at Flynn’s heart. He wanted to take the pain away, but there was nothing he could do.
Why couldn’t there be a manual for this? Anna had always just known what to do. He tried hard, but always seemed to fall short. His mum would argue otherwise, but if he’d got it right, they wouldn’t be here. Aaron wouldn’t have got on Rebel when he’d been told not to. He sighed. Now wasn’t the time to chastise himself. He had to take care of Aaron’s needs first and, when Aaron was asleep tonight and safely tucked up in his bed, then he could go over the events of the day and figure out where he’d gone wrong so he could make certain it wouldn’t happen again.
Aaron was breathing hard, his face pasty as he steadied himself against Flynn’s supporting arm. ‘You sure you don’t want me to carry you?’
‘I can walk.’ And his brave son began to do just that.
How could you want to strangle your child for his stupidity and yet wrap him up in your arms and shower him with love and kisses all at the same time? It made no sense. Just one other element of parenthood that escaped his understanding. Maybe Prita would know.
No. He couldn’t ask Prita anything of the sort. Not now. Something else to chastise himself over. He could have handled that whole thing so differently. Why was he such an idiot when it came to knowing how to deal with his son and with women?
Except Anna. He’d always known how to figure out Anna. Partly because she’d told him. He’d liked that about her. No guesswork on his part. It had made things so easy.
Now …
Now things were increasingly difficult.
Ah god, Anna. Why aren’t you here to help me with this? I need you. I always need you.
As usual, there was no answer to his silent plea.
He held the door open for Aaron as they moved slowly from the car park into the doctor’s office. He got between the desk with the dead bird and his son—Aaron had a bleeding heart for all creatures furred and feathered and didn’t need to see that—and ushered him towards the hallway th
at led to the treatment room. This building had been old and run down when Prita bought it, but its bones were good and it hadn’t taken much more than some new plaster, paint, sanding and polishing, to make it shine again. Although, even in its heyday, he didn’t think this building had looked quite so good. It wasn’t just old anymore or stately. It was cheerful. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why. Maybe it was the colours of paint she’d chosen for the walls—a vibrant leaf green and rich cream he’d spent a week getting out of his hair and off his skin. Or maybe it was the black and white photos that were scattered along the walls—photos that even though they were black and white, seemed to have layers of shadow and light that made them seem alive, like the people in them were about to move or talk to him, kind of like the photos in Harry Potter. He’d meant to ask Prita at the party about the artist—a Chandra Guary—but that hadn’t happened and now he couldn’t ask her because, well, they were avoiding each other. Since he’d been in here the day of the party, she’d added scattered bits of colour in the reception area, office and hall that made it even more welcoming, slashes of the reds and golds and greens and blues on cushions and curtains and rugs that Prita seemed to love so much, colours she always wore on her somewhere, whether in a top or skirt or her shoes. It wasn’t much in the way of changes, but it was astonishing how much difference they made, so that these rooms were now full of a vibrancy at odds with why people were here.
Or maybe it wasn’t at odds at all. It certainly was a more cheerful place to come wait than Doc Simpson’s practice. But then, what did he know? Nat told him his sense of decoration and style was shit. She’d actually said ‘exorable’—he’d had to look the word up. She was probably right. He didn’t have the time or energy to worry if his t-shirt went with his shirt. Horse hair, hay, dust, dirt and shit didn’t really go with anything, so why bother?
Aaron made a sound and clutched his arm, his breath coming in wheezes through his lips, cheeks puffing out with the effort. ‘You okay, big-man?’
‘It hurts,’ Aaron said, his voice tight with pain.
‘I know. You’re almost there though.’ They only had to make it down the hall and into the treatment room.
Prita turned from what she was doing at the computer as they entered. ‘Oh, you poor thing,’ she said, gaze raking over Aaron. ‘Come. We’ll make it better.’ She ushered them over to the bed. ‘When did you last eat?’
‘Lunch time,’ Flynn answered for Aaron.
‘Has he vomited?’
‘Yes, after it happened and again before we got into the car, but not since then.’
‘Dad!’
She stroked Aaron’s hair back from his sweaty face. ‘That’s normal, Aaron. Even the toughest people have been known to toss up their lunch after dislocating a joint. It’s a natural reaction of the body. How did it happen?’
‘He was trying to ride Rebel and got thrown.’
‘Aaron.’ She looked down at the boy and shook her head. ‘What are we going to do with you?’
The boy blushed and said, ‘Patch me up?’
She smiled and touched his chin. ‘I’d prefer it if you didn’t hurt yourself in the first place. Did you lose consciousness?’
He went to shake his head, but sucked in a pained breath and said, ‘No.’
‘That’s good, but given you fell from a horse, I need to check you for concussion too.’ She ran her hands over his head, flicked a light in and out of his eyes, asked him to follow her finger with his eyes without moving his head. She turned to the computer and brought up a file. ‘Normal round of antibiotics and such for a child his age but nothing about more serious pain medication. Do you know if he’s ever had morphine-based medications before?’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘Then let’s start with this. It won’t help with the pain so much as make you not care about it.’ She grabbed a green tube from a tray. ‘Here, take a few sucks. It’ll make you a bit lightheaded, and if you feel sick at all, tell me.’
She held the tube up to his lips, instructing and encouraging, her hand light on his back, a glance at Flynn telling him to be ready if Aaron got dizzy. He knew all about the green whistle. He’d had them a few times in his days of playing footy and through horse riding accidents. Normally they were carried in ambulances, but given they were a forty-five-minute drive from the nearest ambulance station in either Traralgon or Moe, the local doctors carried them as a quick fix for pain relief.
Soon enough, Aaron was looking misty eyed and grinning a bit goofily.
‘Okay, so now I need to look at the shoulder. Flynn, can you help me here? Just hold his arm in place while I remove the sling and his t-shirt.’ She carefully untied the sling and removed the icepack Nat had bound in place. Then she cut off Aaron’s t-shirt, sliding the material away. ‘Definitely a dislocation,’ she said after looking at the squared-off shape of Aaron’s shoulder joint, palpating the front of the joint a little. ‘Good job on the icepack and sling.’
Flynn shrugged. ‘First aid’s important.’
She glanced at him, as if trying to read something in his eyes, but then turned back to her patient. ‘Given the time lapse and the drive here, there’s surprisingly little swelling, so we should be able to put it back in with no problems. He’ll need to take some diazepam first. Given he doesn’t seem to have taken any serious pain medication or anti-inflammatory before, it’s important I ask if there’s any family history of reactions to muscle relaxant medications too.’
‘None that I know of. I’ve had them quite a few times with nothing happening.’
‘Good.’ She paused, leaned closer to him and said quietly, ‘What about your wife?’
‘Dad doesn’t like talking about Mum,’ Aaron said from his position on the bed, swaying a little.
The muscles in his chest tightened at his son’s words. Why did he think that? ‘It’s okay, Aaron.’ He stroked his son’s hair and answered Prita. ‘Not that I know of. Anna was always pretty healthy.’
‘Okay.’ An expression flickered across her face that could have been an apology, or concern, but she turned back to Aaron too quickly for him to figure it out. ‘Well, let’s get some more morphine and some diazepam into him and then we’ll put this shoulder back in place.’
She put in a line, explaining to Flynn and a groggy Aaron what she was doing and why. ‘It’s best to inject intravenously now as it will act immediately, so I’ll put a canula in. It means if they have to give further medication at the hospital later or he needs an operation in case there’s trauma to the joint or ligaments, they can do so easily.’
‘An operation?’
She nodded. ‘Sometimes there can be a compression fracture of the humeral head or a chip fracture of the glenoid fossa—although neither of those will stop us from being able to put it back in place now. I also just need to check his pulse in a few places to make sure there’s no blockage to the arteries.’ She did some further checks, both with her fingers and her stethoscope, asked Aaron to wiggle his fingers and probed the rest of the arm and along the collarbone. ‘It doesn’t look like he’s broken anything, and his pulse is good, but I would like him to go down to the hospital to have a full workup of X-rays just to be sure. He will still need to keep the arm immobilised for 12-16 weeks, but we’ll know more about that once he’s been to the hospital and had the X-rays. He’ll also probably need some physio.’
Flynn nodded, blanching at the idea of trying to keep Aaron inactive for so long. ‘I know the drill.’
‘You’ve dislocated your shoulder before too?’
‘Broken collarbone and dislocated my knee and ankle.’
Her mouth quirked. ‘Let’s hope you don’t follow in your father’s footsteps, hey, Aaron?’
Aaron swayed and said something that was completely unidentifiable as words.
‘I think he’s ready,’ Prita said. ‘Let’s lie him down and try the traction-counter-traction method.’ She grabbed a piece of cloth as Flynn helped Aaron lie down, threade
d it under his armpit and handed the ends to Flynn then stood beside the bed and took hold of Aaron’s arm. ‘Now, when I say, pull the sheet towards you. I’ll pull the arm towards me at the same time creating the counter traction. Don’t jerk it or pull too hard—the shoulder wants to achieve reduction, so all we need do is stop the muscle from spasming. As we pull, the muscles should relax and the humeral head will return to its normal position.’
‘Will he feel pain?’ There’d already been too much pain. ‘Maybe he should be completely under for this.’
‘Total anaesthesia should only be used when absolutely necessary. He’ll be fine. Once the joint’s back in place, the pain should decrease dramatically anyway, so it’s best we do this now. You should know this if you’ve suffered dislocations.’
He did, but he also remembered that moment of piercing agony as the joint fell back into place. Then again, he’d done the manly thing, surrounded by his footy mates, and insisted on no pain medication except for the whistle—which in that moment of reduction, hadn’t made a difference to his pain level at all.
‘If you can’t do this, I’ll try another way. It’s just that they can take a little longer.’
‘No. I’m fine.’ He took a deep breath and looked down at his son’s pale face. Aaron looked up at him, eyes half-mast, a sleep-goofy grin on his face. The drugs had worked like they should. Hopefully, he’d feel no pain. ‘You ready, A-man?’
‘Aisreda.’
Flynn kissed Aaron’s forehead. ‘That’s my strong boy.’ He looked up at Prita. ‘I’m sorry you’re having to do this on your birthday.’
Her eyes widened a little and she said, ‘It’s okay. It’s what I’m here for.’
‘Happy Birthday, anyway.’ Her lips flickered into a small smile touching something inside him. He shifted, breaking her gaze, cleared his throat. ‘When you’re ready.’
She nodded. ‘On the count of three. One, two, three, pull.’
Chapter 7
‘Are you sure Aaron’s going to be fine, Mum?’
Prita reached over and ruffled Carter’s hair before starting up the car and driving back to Wilson’s Bend to pick up their fish and chips. Having fish and chips at the beach was the first happy thing they’d done together after he’d come into her life, and it had become their go-to for all celebratory meals. ‘He’s going to be fine. Flynn’s taking him down to the hospital now for X-rays just to make certain, but the joint went back into place as it should.’
Blazing Fear Page 7