Charming Hannah

by Kristen Proby

  I nod. “Understood. Now take me back there.”

  Drake leads me through the doors, despite a glaring Fran. I walk into a room to find Grace sitting next to Hannah, who has deep purple circles around her eyes, her red hair a riot around her, and her face blotchy from crying.

  “Hey, sweetheart.”

  Rather than get angry, or order me out, she just breaks down in tears. She covers her face and cries, and I simply sit next to her and pull her into my arms, holding her close.

  I should be hurt that she didn’t want me here. I should be angry.

  But all I feel is love, and relief that she’s okay.

  “Someone is about to come get her for a chest x-ray,” Drake says as Grace stands. “We’ll be in the waiting room if you need us.”

  I nod and hold Hannah against my chest, letting her cry it out.

  The door closes, and she says, “I’m dying.”

  I frown and pull her away from me so I can look into her blue eyes. “Excuse me?”

  “Heart attack,” she says, and my world falls away.

  “You’re having a damn heart attack?” I press the call button for the nurse and stare blindly at the monitors. “Drake said you’re okay.”

  A woman bustles into the room. “How can we help?”

  “If she’s having a heart attack, shouldn’t someone be in here?”

  “We don’t think that’s what’s happening,” she says with a smile. “We have labs drawn, heart monitor going, and she’s about to get a chest x-ray. Right now, in fact.”

  A young man comes in and ushers me off the bed so he can wheel her out to a nearby lab. He doesn’t ask her to get up, but instead does all of the work with her lying on the bed. After the x-ray is taken, he asks if we’d like to see the images.

  “Yes,” Hannah says immediately and stands so she can see his monitor.

  “This looks pretty standard, although I’m no radiologist.”

  “No, look.” She points at a spot where her lungs are. “This is a tumor.”

  “I think those are blood vessels,” the tech says. “I’ve done hundreds of these, and those are blood vessels.”

  Hannah just shakes her head and gets back on the bed, looking defeated. “Please take me back to my room.”

  She’s wheeled back, and hooked back up to her monitors. After a few moments, the doctor comes in and sits at Hannah’s bedside.

  “I have good news, Dr. Malone. Your labs have all come back normal so far. I’m waiting on one more enzyme lab, but I expect that to be normal as well. Your EKG and chest x-ray are both in normal limits.”

  “I don’t know how that can be,” Hannah says with true confusion on her face. “I saw the tumor on the x-ray. Didn’t you see it?”

  The doctor frowns and opens her laptop, bringing up the x-ray in question and turns the computer so Hannah can see it. “Where?”

  “Here.” She points to the cluster in the center of her lung.

  “Those are blood vessels.”

  “Bullshit,” Hannah mutters and shakes her head. “It’s cancer. I’m having a goddamn heart attack and I have cancer and you’re doing nothing. I want a second opinion.”

  “Hannah, I promise you, you’re not dying.”

  Tears are streaming down her sweet face, and it makes me ache. She’s devastated. She’s convinced.

  And it doesn’t matter that she’s a doctor. All of her training and common sense are gone, replaced by the reactions of a scared woman.

  I don’t know what to do for her, but I know I’m not going anywhere.

  Not now, not ever.

  She looks up at me with tears rolling out of her blue eyes and says, “I don’t know what to do. What do I do?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  ~Hannah~

  “HANNAH, LISTEN TO ME,” Dr. Linderman says, catching my attention. “This is not a tumor. And I’m watching the monitor right now. Your heart is steady and just fine. I’m not lying to you.”

  “It’s fluttering right now,” I reply, so fucking frustrated that no one believes me. And even more frustrated that I can’t stop the nonsense running through my head.

  I can’t remember any of my medical training. None of it.

  “Flutters happen with anxiety,” she replies, and I just stare at her in horror. I’ve spent the past two hours here for nothing. All because of this stupid anxiety.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. She pats my hand and smiles kindly.

  “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

  “My left hand feels weird.”

  “You’re tense. I’m quite sure the nerves to your arm are being pinched, and that’s causing the discomfort.”

  “So, I’m not having a heart attack.”

  “No. You’re not. I’m going to wait for that last lab, and then you’re free to go.”

  She smiles and leaves the room, and I can’t look Brad in the face.

  I’m humiliated.

  “Baby,” he says. “Look at me.”

  “I’m so embarrassed.”

  “You don’t need to be.” He sits on the bed with me again and pulls me into his arms, which makes me feel better. “It sounds like all of the symptoms felt like a heart attack. I would have been scared myself.”

  I nod, but then take a deep breath and swallow hard.

  “Here’s the thing, Brad. I can’t turn this off. I can’t make it stop. I’m a trained professional, but when this starts, all of my training goes out the window and rational thought goes with it. I’m sure that something is wrong. Everyone thinks it’s funny. Or cute.”

  I wipe a tear off my cheek.

  “Drake will make a joke, or brush it off, and I’ll play along. But it’s not funny.” I lift my eyes to his now and have to bite my lip so I can pull myself together, even a little bit. “It’s not funny. It’s scary. I will go a long time without anything like this happening, but it’s always, always in the back of my mind that something is wrong. Headache? I must have a brain tumor. Lower abdominal pain? Ovarian cancer. I’m a hot mess, Brad, and I wouldn’t blame you in the least if you bailed now. I would.”

  “No, you wouldn’t,” he says quietly.

  Okay, I wouldn’t. But I wouldn’t blame him if he did.

  He kisses my temple and then reaches to grab a stethoscope off the countertop.

  “Here, put these in your ears.”

  I do as I’m told and wipe my nose on a tissue. Brad holds the other end over his own chest and I immediately hear his heart, strong and sure in my ears.

  “Do you hear that?”

  “Of course.”

  “Close your eyes.” I do as I’m told, and he begins to talk. I’m swept up in the sound of his deep voice, his strong arms wrapped around me and his heart beating in my ears. “This is the heart of a man who loves you more than he ever thought he could. I didn’t know what I was missing until you came into my life, Hannah. This heart believes in you, admires you, and takes so much joy in you.”

  Tears continue to fall down my face, but I don’t care. I press my cheek to Brad’s shoulder and keep listening.

  “When I thought my heart would break earlier this summer, when I had to tell a friend that his child was gone, you were there to help me recover from that. You held me, and you soothed the pain, Han. This is a grateful heart.”

  He pauses and kisses my temple.

  “This heart is strong. Listen to how steady it beats, how sure it is. It’s brave and true, and it always does the right thing, even when it’s hard. It’s healthy, Hannah. So healthy. It’s going to beat for many more years to come.”

  I open my eyes and am surprised to discover that at some point he moved the stethoscope to my own chest. The strong, healthy heart I’ve been listening to is my own.

  “You always manage to make me feel better. You bring so much to my life, Brad.”

  “Do you still want me to bail?”

  “No. I might trip you if you try to leave.”

  He kisses me again and set
s the stethoscope aside. “You are not broken, sweetheart. You’re not a hot mess. You’re a human being, and sometimes life is just hard.”

  “Yeah. I feel bad for Drake and Grace. They were there when the patrolmen came.”

  “I’m glad they were,” he admits. “I’d hate to think what would have happened if you’d been alone.”

  “My dad died.”

  He nods, and I assume that Drake told him.

  “He’s been dead to me for a long time. I’m not terribly sad that he’s gone. Does that make me a bad person?”

  His lips twitch into a smile. “No. You’re not a bad person.”

  “They said that I’m the only surviving relative, so I’m responsible for his body.” I swallow hard. “I don’t want to deal with that.”

  “You don’t have to. There are options.” He cups my face in his hand gently. “Is it that he was in Montana that triggered all of this?”

  “Probably,” I admit, feeling angry about that again, but not willing to throw myself into another episode. “He was coming here to try to get something from me. It wasn’t any other reason. He was probably broke. But I would have told him no and sent him packing.

  “I hate that he was so close to my home. I made a place for myself here, far away from him and all of the chaos he caused. I made a way for myself in this world without him. He wasn’t welcome to invade the safety of the life I’ve built.”

  “That makes sense,” Brad says. “We’ll deal with it, together. Just like we dealt with this together.”

  “I didn’t want you here,” I admit, and he cocks a brow. “Grace said if she pulled something like that, Jacob would spank her ass red.”

  “I’m considering it,” he replies, and my eyes whip up to his. “You scared me. And when I arrived, they wouldn’t let me back to see you because I’m not family.”

  “I didn’t think of that. Grace wanted to call you, but I wouldn’t let her. It goes back to what I said earlier, I didn’t want you to have to see me like this. It’s embarrassing.”

  “If I were in an accident, and cut my leg open, would it make sense to you that I wouldn’t want you in the emergency room with me because I was embarrassed about the way it happened?”

  “How did it happen?” I ask, playing devil’s advocate.

  “You’re missing the point.”

  “No,” I confess. “It wouldn’t make sense and I’d be tearing the place apart to get to you.”

  “I was about to try that, but Fran says she can take me and I’m inclined to believe her.”

  I laugh at the thought of the little nurse going up against Brad.

  “I’m glad you came.”

  ***

  “Sadie hasn’t left my side since we got home.”

  It’s several hours later, and I’m curled up on the couch with Sadie’s head in my lap. She’s snoozing and I just can’t stop crying. She wakes up now and again to check on me, whimpers a bit, and then falls back to sleep.

  “She loves you,” Brad says just as the doorbell rings.

  “That hasn’t been good luck today.” I lay my head back on the couch, fighting off the crying-induced headache.

  “It’s pizza,” Brad says as he comes in the room. “From Drake. There’s a note on the box that says he hopes you’re feeling better.”

  “That was sweet.” My stomach growls, and I realize I’m hungry. “I guess it’s good timing.”

  “Do you enjoy pineapple on your pizza?” Brad asks after opening the box.

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Maybe we have to rethink this whole living together situation.”

  “You mean, you don’t love pineapple on pizza?”

  “It’s too sweet,” he says, but then smiles. “But it’s just on half. Drake’s not stupid.”

  I grin and watch him walk into the open kitchen to get us plates, and wouldn’t you know it, the tears start again.

  I can’t fucking turn them off.

  My eyes are ridiculous. They’re puffy and purple, and I look like I went a round with a heavyweight champ. I keep rubbing them because I can’t turn the tears off.

  It’s a vicious circle.

  “I don’t even know what I’m crying about anymore.”

  “It’s your body cleansing itself,” Brad assures me and passes me a plate. The aroma wakes Sadie out of a dead sleep, and she’s immediately ordered onto the floor.

  “Are you the doctor now?” I ask.

  “No, just guessing.” He takes a bite and watches me. “I don’t like seeing you like this.”

  “I know, it’s pretty bad.”

  “No, I just don’t like to see you cry.”

  We’re about halfway into our pizza when the doorbell rings again.

  “This time it’s flowers,” Brad says, carrying them into the living room and setting them on the table next to me. I pull the card out and open it.

  “Hannah,

  By the time you read this, we hope you’re feeling much better!

  Love,

  Grace and Jacob”

  “That was nice.” I wipe the tear from under my eye, and then the doorbell rings again. “I can’t take much more of this.”

  He laughs and goes to answer it. He’s gone longer this time, but then returns with a bag from my favorite ice cream shop and a card.

  “Huckleberry?” I ask.

  “Of course.”

  I read this card.

  Hannah,

  Just a reminder that I love you!

  Jenna

  “Is everyone trying to make me cry today?”

  “I don’t think that’s hard to do, sweetheart.” He sets the ice cream in the freezer and returns to his pizza. “I think your friends are just worried about you.”

  “It’s amazing. I’ve always known that I belong here. I don’t know how to describe it, other than I knew I was home when I got here. But over the past few months, I’ve finally begun to feel like I’m a part of the community. I have an amazing network of friends, and your family makes me feel welcome.”

  “They all care about you.”

  I nod and take another bite of pizza, then set it aside and crawl into his lap. “I think that at first they cared about me because they love you. But now they love me too, and it’s a really good feeling.”

  His arms tighten around me. The fear and anger from earlier are gone now, and I’m left with so much gratitude.

  Love.

  I straddle him and settle against him, feeling him harden.

  “I love you,” I whisper.

  “I love you back,” he whispers in return, making me grin. I wiggle out of my sweatpants, unfasten his jeans and set him free, then lower myself onto him, making us both sigh in pure delight.

  “You make me feel things, Brad. Big things.”

  “It is impressive, isn’t it?”

  I blink at him, then let out a big laugh. I wrap my arms around his neck and ride him, enjoying him. Soaking him in.

  “Yes, perv, it’s impressive.”

  Chapter Twenty

  ~Hannah~

  Two Months Later

  “HOW WAS YOUR DAY, dear?” Brad asks as I walk in the house from work. He beat me home today, and if my nose isn’t deceiving me, he’s made spaghetti for dinner.

  Good God, I love this man.

  “It was pretty good. I had two hysterectomies today, and I thought I was going to have to stay a bit late for a delivery, but it came about an hour ago.”

  “That baby knew that you had a sexy guy to go home to.”

  “Yes. That must be it. And then I saw my therapist for an hour, and I’m glad I’m going. He’s helping a lot.” I giggle and turn my face up for a kiss. He takes it from an innocent peck to a hot, searing make out sesh in about one-point-six seconds. “Mm, I missed you, too.”

  He winks at me and returns to his work station, chopping up vegetables for a salad.

  “I grabbed the mail on my way in,” I announce and sort through it, setting his mail to the side. There’
s an envelope from the school of medicine that I graduated from, and I immediately open it. “Wow.”

  “What is it?”

  “A thank you letter,” I reply and read it out loud.

  Dr. Malone,

  It is with great respect and appreciation that I write this letter to thank you for your donation to the Yale School of Medicine. For generations, taking anatomy classes has been a rite of passage for medical students, and this integral part of becoming a physician would be lost without the opportunity that donors such as yourself have given us.

  We take great pride in knowing that you believe that we can make great changes in the future of medicine. The donation of your family member is something we hold near and dear to our hearts and use the greatest care as we use them to teach future generations of physicians.

  On a personal note, you were one of my students in your second year here at Yale, and I wanted to offer my sincerest condolences and personal gratitude.

  Sincerely,

  Matthew T. Murdoch, M.D., Ph.D.

  I fold the letter and return it to its envelope as Brad walks around the island to wrap an arm around my back.

  “Are you okay with this?”

  “Yes. Absolutely.” I nod and smile up at him. “I know that I did the right thing in not abandoning him and instead donating his remains to science. I finally have a reason to be proud of my dad, and he’s finally a productive member of society.”

  Brad smiles and returns to his vegetables.

  “I think your dad would be happy with that.”

  “I don’t know if he would, but my mom would be, and that’s something too. Now, I’m starving, and that smells fantastic.”

  “It’s a family recipe.”

  “Spaghetti?”

  “That’s right.”

  I glance at the empty jar of store bought spaghetti sauce and snort. “Are you a descendent of Ragu?”

  “No, smart ass. You use that as the base, and then add other things to make it more delicious.”

  “If you say so. Gimme.”

  “You’re very demanding.” But he smiles and dishes up a helping of the steaming sauce and pasta. It does smell fantastic. “Here you go.”

  I take a bite and chew slowly as he watches, knowing that he wants me to offer him a reaction.

  I swallow and shrug a shoulder. “It’s pretty good.”