His stomach churned the longer he stood there though. Watching the happy scene get even happier was so far out of his realm that he had to go—had to get out of there—had to breathe. Standing there any longer would kill him. So he backed towards the door, his hands pressed to his sides. There was no way he could continue to watch this all go down. And it just confirmed the fact that he couldn’t do this—bring this kind of sadness into his already jacked up emotional life. Granted, it was only three nights a week, and two hours a day, but still, there’d be no way he could take the pain of watching all these little people get worse over time, especially knowing he’d have to see it soon at home. Call him selfish, call him a rat bastard too, but he just couldn’t do it.
“Come with me, please.”
The stern voice pulled him away from his thoughts, and he willingly followed it into the hall, inhaling the smell of over–cleanliness. He was more than happy to leave behind the cancer kids and the sight of JT’s clown shit. “I have someone I would like you to meet.” The doctor was all business, waltzing her way through another set of doors. David frowned as he caught up to her side. What exactly made this lady tick? What was behind that beast of a persona she put on so well?
Her face was round and her hair was short and curly. Her stomach was heavy, but her face held pride. She was probably around forty or so, and it was obvious that age had taken its toll on her, big time. But she also seemed like nothing fazed her either. Maybe working with dying children all day, every day, had hardened her. You’d almost have to be hardened to do this job.
Room five eleven—that’s where they stopped. Her eyes held a hint of anxiousness, but otherwise, the lady was poised and proper as she spoke. “Behind this door is a boy. He’s eleven—just lost his arm in a dirt bike race two weeks ago. You should be able to relate to him.” She cleared her throat, and glanced down at his leg, before refocusing on his face once again.
“How do you know about—”
“You have the walk. And the crutch gave it away. I’ve worked in this job long enough to know an amputee when I see them.” She shrugged, pulling a chart from the wall behind her. “Anyway, go in there—see if you can talk to him. He’s not a talker, usually just shuts himself away from everyone and everything around him, except for his Xbox.” Was she shaking? Why was she nervous? “It–It’s a single parent situation. The dad is gone, the mom…she, uh, works all day. He needs someone. And just a warning—he’s been known to throw punches if you make him mad enough.” And with a pat on his back, she turned away, but not before she shouted over her shoulder at him once more.
“Oh, and if you get the kid to like you, then you can have the job, minus the clown suit.”
“I thought JT’s aunt hired me? I thought the clown suit was part of the deal?” Not that he was complaining or anything. Hell, if he didn’t have to wear a big wig and red nose, then he’d definitely be okay with that.
“You can have a different job.” She nodded and a grin—if only a little one—appeared on her hardened face.
“Cryptic much lady?” He cleared his throat, and shook his head, staring blankly back at the door again. “Well five eleven with the one arm…here I come…”
He shook his arms out at his side, cracking his neck back and forth. Yeah, okay, he could do this. Eleven–year–old kids were a hell of a lot better than six year olds with cancer. And he could relate to the amputee thing too, so yeah…this was semi–doable.
Peeking in through the crack of the door, he immediately heard the sound of clicking…and cussing. Damn, the little dude had a mouth on him. “Get out of my way…stop putting bricks on my house you shit–tard.”
“Wow, when I was kid, my mom would have shoved soap into my mouth and made me stick money into a jar if I said that kind of crap.”
The remote the boy had been holding fell to the ground and he jumped back on the bed as David came inching in. Clicking the door shut behind him, determined not to come across as creepy, he forced his body to relax and made himself at home. The kid had no idea who he was and quite possibly could have been pissing his pants by the look on his face.
He’d fallen backwards on the bed and thrown the blanket over his head. He’d turned his back away from him completely. “Hey, man, it’s all good. I’m just a dude looking for a job.” He cringed, running a hand down his face. Crap, he sounded completely fucked up. He and kids didn’t mix—they freaked him out. But yeah, apparently that was going to have to be changing soon.
“I mean, I’m here with the clown…”
“Fuck the clown,” the words were soft, but they were there. He heard them all the same. So much for the kid not talking to strangers. He shook his head and grinned. This kid was going to be a riot, he could already tell.
“That’s what I was thinking,” David chuckled to himself, settling his worn down body into the leather chair next to the bed.
Kicking the recliner back, he stuck his hands behind his head and waited. For what, he didn’t know. But soon, slowly, blue eyes peeked out from under the sheet. Finally, with his dark brows pulled together, the little cussing kid pulled the blanket off his face fully. His forehead scrunched into lines as he stared back at David.
Raising his own brows in question, David just stared back, but didn’t talk. Instead, he lifted his pant leg, to loosen his prosthetic.
Might as well get it all out there now anyways…
“Holy shit dude…that’s pretty cool!” Popping up from the pillow, the boy’s eyes went wide, his blond hair looking Justin Bieber–ish as he tossed it back. And that’s when David saw it—or didn’t see it actually—the empty spot from his left elbow down. Damn…it was true. And the kid was so young, too.
Shaking his head, he refocused on his own leg, rubbing the upper half. It ached, but not as bad as it usually did. “Yeah, you think so? It’s new. Only got it about five months or so ago…I was in a wheelchair for two years before I decided to get over myself and do something about it.”
“I’m gonna get one of those just as soon as mom says I can.” His face was bright. The boy was so eager that David’s chest tightened at the sight. God, this kid wasn’t feeling a damn bit sorry for himself, was he? To be so young and have such high hopes about an unsure future. Fuck, here he was, envying an eleven–year–old.
“Yeah, it’s been tough getting used to it, but it’s getting better.”
“You get those fandom…pantom pains or whatever?”
David nodded, “Phantom leg pains?” The boy shrugged, swinging his legs to the side, standing up. “Yeah, I do. They suck.”
Nodding again, the boy tiptoed over, eyes bright, curious, as he studied the prosthetic. David swallowed, waiting for him to do something. The doctor had said he was not a friendly little guy, but everything about this kid screamed good to him.
“Can…can I touch it?”
“Yeah, no problem, man.”
Without further encouragement, that’s exactly what he did, his hand traced the top, following the length with his finger. “Wow…this thing really works, then?” His voice held awe, his eyes held wonder. David didn’t know really how to react to this foul–mouthed little bugger who held such hope in his words.
“It does.” He reattached it, before pulling his pant leg down. He settled his hands over his knees and sat upright again. “You wanna tell me your name?”
“Adam. My name’s Adam. You?”
“David.”
Scrunching his nose in disgust, the boy let him have it—there’d obviously be no holding back with this kid. “Ain’t that name kind of old?”
David laughed. He’d always hated his name—hated that his mountain man of a father had a Harley Davidson obsession and demanded his twins to bear the names of metal bikes. “Yeah, it is.” He shrugged, sitting up, staring down at the remote control of the video game. “What are you playing there?”
“Minecraft.”
“Minecraft, huh? You like that stuff?”
“Sort of…I k
ind of wish they had like, some sports games or something, but I deal with this.”
David nodded once, his thoughts already on the games he had in his drawers at home. He’d gotten an Xbox a few months after his accident, but he rarely played it, preferring sleep over anything else at the time. He’d have to bring the things back the next time he came in.
The next time… That was a shocking thought because at this point, he had no idea if there would be a next time. And could he really get paid for playing video games with a kid who had a potty mouth like his sister? Well, hell yeah he could. He’d be a fool not to.
A tap on the door sounded, interrupting their little powwow. Doctor lady was there, her face soft as she crept beside Adam. “Hey Mom, David showed me his leg. He’s got a prosthetic.”
Mom? Doctor lady was this kid’s mom?
“He did huh?” Her eyes were bright, but below the lids was a darkness that couldn’t be missed. How had he not noticed that? It was evidence of late nights and crying; all too recognizable to him. “Well, Mr. Anderson—”
“David mom, his name is David,” she rolled her eyes, but grinned, ruffling his hair. He pushed her hand away, his face reddening as he spoke, “Mom…seriously. Leave my hair alone.”
He brushed it forward, and frowned. Shaking her head, she lowered her hand to his shoulder instead. This time, he didn’t move away. David knew all too well how it was when a mom embarrassed her son. But now, he’d live through a lifetime of embarrassment from his mom just to keep her with him longer.
“How would you like David here, to come by and see you again? Maybe wheel you to therapy a couple of afternoons when I’m working or on call?”
He shrugged, staring down at the blanket. His mood dropping to a negative temperature just like that. “Yeah, whatever.” Adam was clearly not cool with the suggestion. He’d have to find out why that was. Hell, maybe the football Xbox game would score him some points with this kid after all.
“Good, now say goodbye. David’s clown friend just got sick in the bathroom.”
“He what?” Darting upwards, David felt his temples throb at the sudden rise of his body. He winced, sucking in a painful gasp as he held on to the dresser.
A hand shot out and steadied him, a panicked voice followed suit. “Are you okay, David?”
Pressing his knuckles into his forehead, he nodded, trying hard to gain a sense of balance as he re–opened his eyes. The room was blurry as he blinked, but it didn’t last very long. Fuck. One day without his pills again and he was already messed up.
“Say goodbye, Adam.”
“See ya, David.” He hollered; his little kid voice echoed from behind, worry lacing the tone.
Making it to the hall was a feat. His body was shaking. His stomach was churning, all from getting up too fast. Why wasn’t this getting better? In fact, would it ever get better? Would he ever be able to freaking get up out of a chair without wanting to pass out or puke?
“Have you eaten today?” Damn, she was still there? He didn’t need her. He needed his pills…and his bed. And if Abigail came along as a side order, he’d take her too.
“Yes,” he ground out through clenched teeth, his nails digging into the skin of his palms.
“Well, maybe I should just take your blood pressure, or call someone to come and—”
“I’m fine. I just…”
“Have a substantial injury from the severe head trauma you received during your crash in 2011.” Dropping his chin into his chest, he let all the breath in his lungs go. This lady was nosy as shit.
Hands pressed against his shoulder, and he forced his gaze upwards to meet hers. Anger and concern accompanied the darkness of her eyes. “Do you really think I’d let some random stranger go into my son’s hospital room alone? I don’t think so.”
“How do you know about me anyways?”
“JT’s aunt called. She’s my best friend. I told her I’d been looking for a companion for my son until he gets out of here. She said JT mentioned you and your condition, and I knew, without even meeting you, that you’d be the perfect candidate. I did a little research—sue me.”
“I could you know…sue you for looking in my private records.”
She grinned, shrugging, “But you won’t. You like my son. You want this job. I’ll double the pay—two hundred dollars, two hours a night on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. I’ll pay for your gas to get here.”
He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. “I don’t have a license.”
“Get one…or I’ll pay whoever drives you for their gas.”
Damn…she was serious, huh? And she was right. He needed this job. He needed this money. And strangely, he liked the kid, just like she accused him of doing. Tilting his chin up, he gave his thoughts another go around before answering her. “Okay. Two hundred a night, I’ll do it. I’ll hang with Adam.”
“Wise decision, Mr. Anderson. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
Tomorrow. She wanted him to come back tomorrow… Sure, why the hell not. “Yep, I’ll be here.”
“Good. Now, I suggest you take JT out of here. I can’t have a hung over clown in my ward.”
Yeah, he could definitely see her point. Besides that, he was glad to be free—ready to see Abigail—ready to tell her about his new job. With all the bad shit he’d incurred, maybe, just maybe, his life was going to give him a little break for once. He just wondered how long it would last…
Chapter Twenty–Four
Five voicemails, three texts and still, there was no sign of David—anywhere. Where was he? And why wasn’t he answering her calls? Her texts? And why in the hell was she so needy all of a sudden?
“Ugh, I’m a freaking wreck!”
The aching in her stomach finally eased to a minimal cramping at least, but she wouldn’t feel better until she went to the doctor and got it checked out. Thoughts of calling her mom at work had temporarily crossed her mind, but she wasn’t that desperate…yet. She wasn’t ready to face either of her parents at this point in time, even though the blood in her underwear scared the absolute shit out of her.
She was sure she sounded like a crazy psychopath on the phone when she’d called the on–call nurse at her OB office. But it was better to be a little bit nutty, than to not care at all, just in case. Really though, she wouldn’t be truly settled with the idea that the little Anderson bean growing inside of her belly was good, until she got in–person confirmation from a professional.
“Abs? Where are you?”
All the breath left her lungs as she ran towards her front door. Jesus, seeing him after eight hours apart, kind of tortured the shit out of her. What was wrong with her? She didn’t normally do the obsessed thing either. “My God, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all afternoon!” Unable to stop herself, she pummeled into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging him with wild abandon.
Yeah, this emotional shit needed stand down—and soon.
He moaned, wrapping his arms just as tightly around her waist. Breathing was easier when she was tucked into his chest like that. Hell, who was she kidding here, life was easier when he was there with her in general. And as pathetic as it sounded, she wasn’t about to let him go…at least not for another thirty seconds. They’d spent every possible moment together that they could since they’d returned from California. The time had been the best she’d ever experienced in her entire, short, almost nineteen years of existence. Yeah, she was beyond pitiful.
“I’m sorry, my phone died. But I have a really awesome excuse as to where I’ve been today.”
Pulling back, she stared up into his eyes. They were alive, practically dancing beneath those girlie lashes of his. There was something amazing going on in that head of his, and she was going to find out…just as soon as they got in the car though. “Um, I want to hear it, really I do, but we need to leave, like now.”
This was hard—this telling him what to do, demanding anything of him at all crap—even if it was for a g
ood reason. She was not that typical girl, that clinger. She liked her freedom, especially when it came to the guys she’d dated in the past. But maybe too, those guys weren’t David and that’s why she never really gave a shit before now.
“I’ve been spotting this afternoon and I need to see a doctor.”
Cringing, he pressed his hands against her cheeks. The move didn’t match his expression. “What do you mean…spotting?”
“I mean I’m bleeding.”
“Bleeding?” Head tipped to the side, he eyed her arms, then her neck, and her legs, obviously looking for surface damage. Unfortunately, this type of blood couldn’t be covered with a Band–Aid.
“David…my vagina—my freaking hoo–ha—is bleeding! I need to go to the doctor to check on the baby.”
“Shit,” his face went completely pale, “…for real, Abs?”
Reaching for her purse on the counter behind her, she pulled him along next to her heading towards the door. “Yes. Now, come on. I need you.”
“Fuck, Abs, I’m sorry, I’m coming.” He finally got it, like a tiny little light bulb flickered on in his head. He was a smart guy, but he was also a guy. He obviously knew nothing about the preggo thing. She didn’t know much either, but she did know that any kind of blood wasn’t a good thing.
“So, tell me what’s got you all excited today? I need a distraction.” She gripped his hand in hers as they pulled out of her driveway a few minutes later.
A heavy breath of air expelled from his mouth as he spoke. “I got a job.”
“You did? Really? That’s awesome! Where at?”
“At the children’s hospital in Omaha. I’m working with a boy who just lost his arm.”
Wow. David was willingly going to work in a hospital… With kids… Who was this boy sitting next to her? She grinned to herself, thinking about things—David things. In the short span of almost two and a half short weeks, David had metaphorically grown up. And as much as she didn’t want to float her own boat, she couldn’t help but wonder whether the two of them—together—might be part of that reason. “I’m so proud of you.” She glanced over at him briefly again. His face was lit up. His smile was stretched wide across his face. Never had she seen him so happy. And despite where they were headed, Abigail couldn’t help but echo that emotion herself.
A Long Time Coming Page 22