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)
“Another thing,” he says, and I look at him; this man looks like he is carrying the weight of everyone on his shoulders. “I don’t want you to sugarcoat anything. I want honesty. I can’t deal with the bullshit.”
“Deal,” I tell him. “It’s the only way I can be a good doctor,” I say. “It’s not going to be easy, and we may lose him.” The thought makes my heart hurt. The hardest part of my job is losing a patient. “But that’s the rude reality to all this. Cancer is its own boss.”
He nods his head. “Thank you,” he says, leaning back a bit on the couch, “for listening to me and not telling me to fuck off.”
We both laugh now. “Let’s go and meet my new patient.” I get up, and he follows me, placing his hand on my lower back as we walk into the playroom. Jack and Michael are both giggling, and he now has his hat off.
“Hey there, buddy,” Zack says, going to him. “You took off your hat?”
“Yeah,” he says, not even paying attention to him. His eyes focus on the cars going around and around. “It was itchy.”
“This is the first time he’s taken the hat off when he wasn’t at home,” he tells me in a quiet whisper. “He hates to take it off.”
“Well”—I lean in to him, and the smell of his woodsy aftershave hits me—“maybe he feels like he’s at home.”
Zack puts his hands in his back pockets. “I really hope so.” I watch him watch his son, and he smiles when he sees Jack laughing.
“I’m going to go and help Aly,” I tell them and walk into the kitchen where my sister-in-law is taking a tray out of the oven. “Smells good in here.”
“It’s not because of me. I picked up this lasagna at Tony’s,” she says of the to-die-for Italian restaurant we frequent. She puts on the oven mitts and turns around and looks at me. “So?”
“So?” I sit on the stool at the island.
“What did you decide to do?” she asks me, standing in front of me.
“Was there even a decision?” I tell her. “Honestly, how can I say no?”
“I knew you wouldn’t the minute Max told me the story.”
She smiles. “It’s so sad.”
“It is, and like I told him, I can’t guarantee anything, but I can guarantee I’ll do whatever I can for him.”
“And that, my favorite sister-in-law”—I laugh and roll my eyes—“is why you’re the best at your job.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I say and then look down. “I hope I can save him.”
“If anyone can, it’s you,” she says, and I just nod my head. “And off topic,” she says quietly, looking over my shoulder to see that it is just the two of us, “his eyes are to die for.” She starts to laugh and then stops when she sees Max standing at the entrance of the kitchen.
“What is to die for?” he asks, glaring at his wife with my niece in his arms, perfectly content to be on his hip. I get up from the stool.
“I’ll go set the table.” I smile at him, and he glares back at me. “By the way, I need to kick your ass for ambushing me.”
“I know,” he says, looking at Alex, who looks up at him and smiles. Drool comes out of her mouth, landing on her I love my dad bib. I reach out for her, and she starts to fuss. “She’s teething,” he tries to tell me.
“She’s been teething since she was born,” I tell him, and he brings her head to his chest. “Leave her alone. I leave tomorrow, so I need all the cuddle times.” He looks at her, and she smacks his chest with her fist. “Isn’t that right, princess?”
“Fine, have her; it’ll only be a matter of time before she’s calling her cool aunt Denise to complain about what a drag her father is,” I tell him over my shoulder, walking to the dining room to set the table.
Zack comes in. “What can I do to help?” he asks me, and I hand him the forks.
“Where are the boys?” I ask him, and he puts the forks down, walking around the table to each place setting.
“Playing Hot Wheels,” he says, and then I watch him. “He didn’t really have friends back in Arizona.”
“Really? How come?” I ask, unsure whether it’s the right thing to ask.
“His mother isn’t someone you get along with easily.” He looks at me, and I take in his face; his cheekbones are defined perfectly, his nose a touch crooked, no doubt from being broken a time or two. “He has had a nanny since he was born. She would try to bring him to the park, but then he would come home dirty, and Chantal would go mental.”