Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“Good night, Denise,” he says, staring at me as I walk out. “See you tomorrow.” His voice is a whisper.
I walk out and go into Jack’s room. Climbing into bed with Michael, I sleep surrounded by the smell of Zack.
Chapter Sixteen
Zack
I hold Jack’s hand as we walk into the hospital. Today is the first step, and I’m a nervous wreck for so many reasons.
Coming home and walking into my living room and seeing Denise and Jack spooning took me off guard. I stood there for a good five minutes just watching her sleep. Who does that? Then when I moved her hair from her face and her eyes flickered open, it took everything I had not to lean in and softly kiss her lips. Not to give in to the feelings that are lingering.
And fuck if my chest didn’t fill with pride when she sat up and I saw her with my name on her shirt. I watched her walk into my room and put my son in bed. I stood there glued to the middle of my bedroom as she made sure my son was tucked in safe; I was glued when she came over and she turned to walk away, but my hand had a mind of its own when it reached out to hers. I don’t even know. I lay awake most of the night listening for her, longing for her.
When I finally woke up, she was already gone. My mother said she had to take Michael home. I didn’t text her or call her, and as I stand in the elevator with Jack on my way up to see her, I feel like kicking myself.
The doors open, and I see her at the nurses’ station, leaning over writing something in a chart. Her white lab coat on and rolled at the wrist. “Dr. Denise,” Jack says, letting go of my hand and my mother’s hand as he runs for Denise who turns and smiles at him, grabbing him in her arms.
“Someone is smitten,” my mother says from beside me, and I just nod my head.
“I know. He just took to her.” I turn to her and see her laughing.
“I wasn’t talking about Jack,” she says, walking away and taking Denise into her arms for a hug.
“It’s so nice to see you, dear,” she tells her, and Denise just smiles the whole time, holding Jack’s hand while her thumb rubs his hand.
“You guys are right on time.” She smiles and then looks over at me. “Good morning.”
“Hi,” I say, looking at her outfit now. She is wearing black slacks with a blue button-down silk shirt. Her black ballerina flats make the outfit. Poised and sophisticated.
“So where is Jumping Jack?” Mallory asks, looking around the desk.
“That’s me, Grandma,” he says, pointing at himself.
“That name so suits you,” my mother tells him, and then she looks at Mallory. “I’m Shirley.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Mallory,” Mallory tells her, holding her hand out to shake it. “Now, come on, Jumping Jack. We need to get you ready.”
She reaches out for his hand, and he takes it. “I’ll go with him,” my mother says, and I just nod my head at her as Denise smiles at her.
“How you feeling?” she asks, putting her hands in her pockets of her lab coat.
“Nervous, scared, anxious.” I release a big breath. “That’s just the start of it.”
She reaches out to hold my arm, squeezing it. “I can’t even imagine, but it’s going to be okay,” she says, and I have to believe her. “Let’s go take care of business,” she says, grabbing the chart, and I follow her into the room where Jack went.
Mallory has him on the bed, and they are taking off his top, and she puts on a hospital gown for him.
Denise goes to sit on the rolling stool in front of the bed. “Okay, Jumping Jack,” she starts, and I see that this is the serious Denise. It was a subtle switch, but I know that she is talking to Jack the patient. “I’m going to explain what is going to happen today.” She smiles at him, and he just nods his head.
“Mallory is going to take blood from you. It might look like a lot, and we may have to do both arms,” she says. “It might hurt a bit, but”—she leans in—“I heard you’re stronger than Daddy, so I think you’ll be okay.”
He hangs on her every word. “After we draw the blood, we are going to send it to the lab, and they are going to work magic inside on it.”
“Magic?” he asks, and his eyes go big.
“Magic,” she repeats. “Once they send it back to us, you come in and we put that magic inside you.”
“That is going to kill the cancer?” he asks, and it hits me right now at this moment that this could work, as if it can’t work. And I’ll have to hold my son’s hand while he fights this disease.