Sharp Left Turn Page 3

  I give him a firm nod. “Absolutely.”

  He steps into the hall and calls for Estella to bring him the supplies necessary to withdraw the blood samples, then comes back into the room and starts talking to Cam.

  The Logans have treated us so well since I met them, but now, with Weston and Ryder married, they consider us a part of the family. We have dinner together occasionally, and on the rare occurrence I need a babysitter, Charlotte gladly volunteers. We consider ourselves lucky to know and be a part of such a truly wonderful family.

  As soon as Cam sees the needle, his eyes get bigger, and he shrinks away. “Am I getting a shot? I don’t want no shots.”

  “No, buddy, no shots today, but I am going to have to stick you.” He holds up the needle for Cam to see. “See this right here?” Cam nods. David puts the needle down and grabs Cam’s arm, pushing his sleeve to his shoulder. He slides his fingers down the vein in Cam’s arm. “I’m going to have to just stick the tip in this purple line right here.” He gestures to a vein in the crook of his arm. “It won’t take but a second and then I’ll be done. You’ll be able to see the blood fill up in these.” He grabs up the vials for Cam to see.

  “Is it gonna hurt?”

  David sighs. “It might hurt for just a second, but if you be still and calm, it’ll be over before you know it.”

  Cam pouts but gives David a small nod. “Okay.”

  I stand beside him and put my hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, sweetie. You’re a big boy, remember? Last time you didn’t even cry when you got your shots.”

  He puffs out his chest. “I didn’t.” He points to his chest with his thumb. “I a big boy now.”

  I ruffle his hair. “You sure are. My big boy.”

  He nods a few times and holds his arm out to David. “Let’s do this!”

  I chuckle to myself. He’s such a brave boy. David preps Cam’s arm to get the vein up, and as carefully as he can, sticks the needle in. Cameron cringes a bit, but takes it like the tough little boy that he is.

  He makes me so proud.

  After the two vials of blood have been filled, which fascinates Cam to no end, David removes the needle from his arm and disposes of it before placing a brightly colored Band-Aid over the site. “All right, buddy, you did great. You’re free to go.”

  Cam perks up and turns to me. “You ready, Mama?”

  “Sure am.” I try to sound as perky as him.

  “Cameron, why don’t you let Ms. Estella take you to get your sucker while I talk with your mom? Is that okay?” David asks, and when Cam nods, he steps to the door and calls for Estella once more.

  With Cam out of the room, David comes over and places his hand on my shoulder. “Easy, I want you and Cam to go home and have a relaxing night. Don’t fret over these tests.” He gives me a stern look. “I’m personally going to take them to the lab after I see my last patient of the day. Expect a call from me no later than tomorrow evening.”

  “What do I do if it happens again, David?’ I let a little of the worry I’m feeling seep into my voice.

  “You calm him down. Have him sit, tilt his head forward and pinch his nostrils. Hold them for at least five minutes. It will stop. Don’t freak out, but you can call me anytime,” he assures me.

  “So, you want us to stay home tomorrow? That makes me worry that there’s something you’re not telling me. If it were just a simple iron deficiency, you wouldn’t want me to keep him home.” I start to pace around the room.

  He stops me and places both hands on my shoulders in a firm grip. “Listen to me, Easy. I don’t know that it’s anything, but I’m a doctor, and it’s best to be precautious. I just want him kept calm and not wound up running around with his friends until I have the results back. Then we’ll decide what to do next. No use assuming things without the proper diagnosis.”

  I take a deep breath and allow my panic to subside. “Thank you, David.”

  He opens his arms and engulfs me in a warm, fatherly hug. “Anytime, Easy, anytime. Now get that sweet boy home and have a nice, quiet night.”

  “I will.”

  I exit the exam room, already hearing Cam talking away with Mrs. Sanders at her desk. I follow the best sound in the world and stop when I reach them. “You ready to go, Cam?”

  “Look, Mama, I got a blue one. My favorite.”

  “I see that.”

  Mrs. Sanders breaks in. “Do you need to set a follow-up visit?”

  I give her a small shake of my head. “Not right now. I’ll be hearing from Dr. Logan soon.”

  She nods. “Okay, sweetie. You two have a good night then.”

  “We will.” I smile at her and turn to Cam. “Did you tell Mrs. Sanders thank you for the sucker?”

  “I sure did. You says I always gotta be p … po …”

  I help him out. “Polite. Yes, I do say that.” I brush my hand across his head. “Such a good boy.”

  He eats the praise up with a spoon, and I’m so happy to see him looking more alert. Maybe it is just something simple.

  Cam and I stop to pick up pizza and breadsticks on the way home and plan to settle in front of the TV for all his favorite movies. A relaxing night at home is just what the doctor ordered.

  Literally.

  The next morning, I’m up with the sun. I know David won’t be calling this early, but sleep was being elusive. It was a night of tossing, turning and constant walks to Cam’s room. I knew he’d be okay, but I couldn’t stop myself from checking anyway.

  I decide a hearty breakfast is in order. I get out the ingredients to start his favorite pancake mix, banana nut. I hate bananas and anything that involves them, so this is definitely a “like” he got from his dad.

  It’s strange really, having a son who has traits you don’t recognize. Most of them, actually. From his outward appearance to his likes and dislikes, he’s definitely taken after his father. The older he gets, the more noticeable it is. But that’s okay. This is the path I chose for us, and I intend to follow the same for his siblings.

  After Cameron’s insemination was successful, I purchased all available sperm from his donor. Giving my children the same parents is important to me, and if things go as planned, he’ll have a sibling in the next year.

  After breakfast is cleared, we move to the dining table for a couple of stimulating rounds of Candy Land. Cam’s a sore loser, another trait that doesn’t come from me, but I won’t just let him win. I don’t want my son thinking he’ll always win at life. That’s not how it is in the real world.

  Just as I start herding Cam upstairs for a nap, around three in the afternoon, my cell finally rings with David’s number. A flutter of nerves runs through me, but I quickly push them down.

  I swipe to answer my phone. “Hello.”

  “Easy.”

  That’s it. That’s all he says even though he knows I’ve been sitting by the phone all day. I swallow my irritation at having to drag it from him. “Yes, David, it’s me. Who else?” I ask with an irritated chuckle.

  He clears his throat. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you apologizing, David? Just tell me what you called to say,” I snap, then feel bad. “Now I’m sorry.” I hesitate. “Is it bad?” My voice is low, and there’s no way I can keep out the fear.

  Silence.

  “David!”

  He takes a deep breath. “I need you to come into the office. This is a talk that we need to have in person.”

  “Oh no, you don’t,” I snap. “You have to tell me something.” The panic starts to build, making my voice sound whiny and high-pitched.

  “Just get here as soon as possible.”

  3 SOFT SHOULDER

  Easy

  The drive to David’s office passes by in a blur. A blur of cars, traffic and thoughts as my mind wanders into dangerous territory.

  What could possibly be wrong to make David act this way?

  I steady my breathing and try to remain calm, my grip on the wheel loosening. No sense
working myself up over nothing.

  But this isn’t nothing, is it?

  It can’t be. He’d never have put me in this position if it weren’t something.

  Something big.

  By the time I arrive in the parking lot, my imagination has run wild, and my anxiety is its own entity. My mind churns with uncertainty as I unbuckle Cam, and we make our way into the office as quickly as possible.

  Mrs. Sanders is sitting behind the desk, as she’s done every visit we’ve ever made. She looks up, and her expression goes from a warm welcome to comforting. “Miss Wilder, Dr. Logan is waiting for you.” She stands and motions to the side door. “Why don’t y’all come on through there?”

  As we enter, she leaves her desk, meeting us in the hall. Leaning down, she addresses Cam. “Hey, sweetie. Why don’t you come with me while Mama goes and talks to Dr. Logan?”

  He draws closer to my leg, hugging it tightly. “No, I stay wif Mama.”

  She pouts and drops down on her knees in front of him. “Aw, I was hoping you’d help me get more suckers to fill my bowl.” She points to the empty container on the counter. “And as a reward, I’m sure you’ll get to have one, too.”

  Cam’s eyes brighten as he looks to the bowl. “I get a sucker?”

  “You sure will, sweet boy, but we have to fill it for all the other good little kids first. Okay?” She stands and holds out her hand for him to take.

  He releases my leg and grabs it easily. “Bye, Mama. Be good for Dr. Logan. I get a sucker.” With a little wave, he disappears down the hall, following Mrs. Sanders until they’re out of sight.

  With Cam’s preoccupation, my earlier annoyance returns.

  It’s time to get some answers.

  Squaring my shoulders, I march straight down the hall to David’s office. I don’t even bother knocking. I simply turn the knob and push open the door, stepping inside.

  David’s head snaps up at my sudden entrance, but as soon as he notices it’s me, his shoulders immediately deflate. “Easy.” That’s it. That’s all he says after hanging up and causing me to freak out the whole drive over.

  I shut the door behind me, none too silently mind you, and cross my arms over my chest. “That’s it!” I snap when he continues to stare without saying a word.

  My stomach is in knots, and my heart is pounding, praying he’ll say something simple, something that won’t bring my world crashing down.

  He sighs, motioning to the chair across from him. “Please, have a seat.”

  I dig in my heels, refusing his offer. “I think I’ll just stand.”

  He removes his glasses and harshly rubs his eyes with his fingers then looks at me so filled with guilt that it almost takes my breath. “Please,” he begs.

  I almost refuse, but I need to hear this. I may not be able to remain standing once he delivers the news that’s sure to break me. Walking over, I begrudgingly take a seat and release the breath I’m holding. I steel myself for his next words.

  Only they don’t come right away.

  He fidgets with things on his desk—straightening his already neat files, arranging his pens in their holder and even trying to align his stapler evenly.

  When my patience has run out, I lean forward, catching his eyes. “David, I love you, I really do. But if you don’t tell me why I’m here in the next ten seconds, I might do bodily harm.”

  “All right, Easy.” He scrubs his hands through his unusually messy hair. “I just … I just don’t know how to say this.”

  “You can start by telling me what the hell you thought you were doing hanging up on me! Do you realize that I drove over here in a daze? That my mind was imagining every possible condition Cam could have to make you react that way. Huh? Start with that! Start anywhere! Just start!” My voice has risen, and my hands are flailing I’m so worked up.

  He stands and comes around the desk, leaning down on one knee in front of me. “I’m so sorry, Easy. I never thought of those things.” He sighs and looks away. After a beat, he looks back and pierces me with his stare. “Cam’s sick.”

  I involuntarily recoil. I recoil from the very notion that something is wrong with my baby boy. Of course, I knew it. I knew David would never have acted the way he did if something wasn’t wrong, but hearing it from his lips causes the denial to spring from mine. “No.” And again more forcefully. “No! He is not!”

  But it’s there, written so clearly across David’s face. As I break down, he wraps his strong, supportive arms around me. I can do nothing but take his comfort. For seconds, minutes, we remain in that position—him giving the comfort and me receiving it. When the sniffles start dying down and the tears have dried, he slowly leans back and meets my gaze.

  “Easy, I promise you I will do everything in my power to fix this.” His eyes hold their own wetness. Unshed tears. “Now, let’s talk about it, and what we can do.” He returns to his seat and opens a file in front of him.

  Dr. Logan is back.

  Good.

  He’s who I’m going to need if I expect Cam to be okay.

  He leans back in his chair and makes direct eye contact. “I’m almost positive that Cam has aplastic anemia.”

  “Anemia?” I question. “Isn’t that just another word for low iron?” Why would he have me so worked up over this?

  He nods. “Anemia, yes. But aplastic anemia is more serious and can range from mild to very severe.”

  I sit and absorb his words. “Okay. What do we need to do?”

  He leans back in his chair and laces his fingers over his stomach. “That’s the thing, Easy. It won’t be simple. He’ll need two more tests to determine the extent of his condition. Then we’ll decide his exact treatment from there.”

  The blood is rushing in my ears, and his half answers are only frustrating me more. This is a man I’ve come to know as family, and he’s acting like a regular doctor with his evasiveness. I lean forward again. “Look, David, I need facts. I need you to tell me worst-case scenario, best-case scenario and everything in between. I need to know how serious this could or could not get. You’ve given me nothing so far except a diagnosis; one that I know nothing about. So, please, be straight with me!”

  He slides his glasses back on and opens the file on the desk. After a brief pause, where he scans the papers in front of him, he looks up at me. “When I looked him over, I noticed the bruises. That, along with the nosebleed, led me to believe that anemia could very well be the cause. Wanting to be as thorough as possible, I ordered a CBC which means a complete blood count.”

  I nod to let him know I’m listening. How could I be doing anything else?

  “It was just a precaution on my part. I never expected his levels to be abnormal, but they were.” His expression is apologetic, as if he has any control over the situation.

  “So this CBC was abnormal. That tells you he has aplastic anemia?”

  “It tells me his cell counts are lower than they should be. Another blood test will give us more information.”

  “Is that all?” I ask, suddenly feeling like more tests just lead to more bad news.

  He closes the file and props his arms on his desk, leaning forward. “We’ll take the sample today before you leave the office. This test will check to see if he’s making new red blood cells at the proper rate. It’s called a Reticulocyte Count,” he says, removing his glasses and sighing. “If those results are unsatisfactory, he’ll have to have a bone marrow test.”

  “A bone marrow test? David, you’re scaring me. Why would he need a test like that?” I ask, my heart starting to pound. I want to have faith, but with words like bone marrow being thrown around, I’m not sure if I can.

  “If these next results are low, a bone marrow test is the only way to understand the severity of his condition. It is possible that he may not even need medication, just monitoring.” He stops and takes a deep breath before continuing. “Or it could be very severe, and he’ll need a bone marrow transplant.”

  My blood runs cold. “Bone
marrow transplant?” It can’t be. The wetness rushes to my eyes.

  David reaches his hand across the desk, and I grab onto it like a lifeline. “Listen to me, Easy. There’s no need to work yourself up. We don’t have any idea yet if it will even come to that. Many cases aren’t that severe. Let’s take it one step at a time. Breathe with me.”

  We sit there, hand in hand, taking deep, steady breaths until the tears subside, and I allow his words to soak in my brain.

  “Do you have any more questions for me today?” he asks.

  I give his hand a tight squeeze and utter, “One step at a time.”

  He smiles and nods. “Good girl. Are you ready to get Cam so we can get those samples?”

  Just thinking of my precious son makes the tears fill my eyes once more. I nod. “Can I run to the restroom first?”

  “Of course. Why don’t you do that, and I’ll have Ms. Sanders bring him into an exam room.”

  With a nod, I stand and hurry away before my tears start to fall. I splash water on my face and stare at the woman in the mirror. She looks as if her world just exploded around her. I need to get myself together. Cam is going to need me, and I can’t let him see this part of me. I’m a scared out of her mind mother, afraid of what her child might be facing.

  I dry my face before exiting the bathroom and making my way to exam room one, where my brave boy is already having his blood drawn.

  “Hey, sweetie.”

  “Hey, Mom. Is it okay if Cam and I come by for a little while?” I ask, cradling my cell between my shoulder and ear.

  “Well sure. You know you’re welcome anytime. You’ve already gotten off work today?” she asks.

  “No, I didn’t go. I’ll explain when I get there.”

  “Okay, honey, how far away are you?”

  “We’ll be there in twenty.”

  “See you then, sweetheart,” she says and hangs up the phone.

  When I pull into Mom and Dad’s driveway, I’m grateful when I glance at Cameron in the rearview mirror. He’s leaned over resting his head on the side of his car seat, sound asleep. Carefully lifting him, I walk us to the front door.