Page 101 of Dr. Brandt

He moved his head, and his eyes shifted toward the ceiling. This was a good start, but I knew there was more to come. Rest was number one at this point, though; after that, rehab would start. That’s where we would see more improvement.

I patted Jackson’s foot. “Get some rest, kiddo. You’ll need it when I start kicking your butt in the morning.”

“Dr. Brandt,” Selena, the nurse in the room, called out. “The therapist will be in tomorrow, but she’d like to go over some details of the recovery plan with you and Ms. Stein sometime today.”

“Excellent. Anything else before I make my final rounds for the night?”

“No,” she smiled. “I must say, Jacks surprised me with how quickly he woke up.”

“I wouldn’t have performed the surgery if I thought it wouldn’t have brought him back to us,” I answered with a smile. “It’s going to be a tough road for him, but I’m glad to hear that the rehabilitation therapists are ready to go. I requested a team, so I may have to call out and ensure that happens.”

“I’m not too sure about how they’ll go about it, but I’m sure if that’s what you requested, it will happen.”

“Thanks, Selena. I’ll be back to check on him in an hour or so. His mother will be back before we all know it, though,” I chuckled, wishing Jessa and I were enjoying this together. But her parents and Warren were practically acting like bodyguards to ensure it was difficult as fuck for me to be around her.

It wasn’t helping that she was also avoiding me, but honestly, I didn’t have time for that shit. I had to remain focused on Jackson, and I knew that’s where Jessa’s focus was.

After everything shook out, and Jacks was moving forward, I would steal her away, and hopefully, we could straighten out the things that went wrong.

Part of me understood that having her parents and Warren here would make that difficult, but they needed to understand what I already knew: I was not losing my Jessa or my son ever again.

Chapter Forty-Two

Jessa

A week into Jackson’s therapy, I finally felt like my world had stopped spinning wildly out of control. Jacks was doing very well, and I couldn’t be prouder. When he started, he could barely move his mouth, and it nearly killed me not to hear his voice. Now, he grumbled, and his expressions were also starting to improve.

The most frustrating thing beyond Jackson’s rehab was dealing with my parents and their seemingly never-ending stream of demands on me.

“Jessica Ann,” my mom said, her crystal blue eyes as stern as they always were when I didn’t listen to her advice. “I just want you to follow your head and not your heart. I know that sounds ridiculous, but you have a son who will require a lot of your—”

“Stop, Mom. Just stop,” I said, interrupting her. I’d heard enough of this crap all week. “I know the last person you want my son and me around is Cameron. For the millionth time, I know that. You’ve hated him since he took off in college, and yet, you should be thanking him for doing it because he pulled off a miracle and brought Jacks back to us. But, instead, you and Dad still can’t forgive him.” My heart was racing under her fierce gaze as I dared to talk back to her. “And do you want to know the worst part?”

“Do tell me,” she put her perfectly manicured hand on her hip like a sassy five-year-old. “What could be the worst part of Cameron Brandt getting you pregnant and then, with all of his expert knowledge, choosing to pay more attention to getting back into bed with my daughter than fixing the son he suddenly claims to love?”

My blood pressure was through the roof, and my heart was pounding in my head. “I never told him about the pregnancy. You and Dad judge him for actions he never got to prove and decisions he made without all the important facts.”

“Judge him for actions he never got to prove?” my dad interjected, his voice booming with frustration. “He proved himself well enough to me, Jessica. He managed to convince you that his happiness was most important, and that’s why you kept things a secret.”

“I’m not having this conversation again,” I said, worn down to my core. “He’s proven he’s a wonderful father. I’ve witnessed all of it first-hand.”

“A wonderful father, eh? I struggle to imagine that,” my dad scoffed. “You need to start thinking around that man. I see the nurses gawking at him. I see everyone, including my daughter, staring at him like he’s God’s gift. Maybe he is, and that’s fine. But you are making horrible judgment calls because you are caught up with this man in the worst way.”

“I’m not,” I paused, tears in my eyes, frustrated as hell that my parents were piling this on. “I will not stand here and listen to this. Not anymore. You’ve turned an amazing week for my son into a hellish nightmare for me, and for what? To prove that I was wrong to date Cameron again?”

“We’re not trying to prove anything, honey. We’re trying to help you. We see the way you look at Cameron. When you were with him in Mexico, Jacks got sick. We’re just concerned about your happiness. That’s all,” my mother added.

“I understand that I got caught up in a fantasy with Cam, Mom,” I said, caving to this bullshit because I needed it to stop before I had a literal stroke from my blood pressure spike. “But I trust myself now. I just hope you’ll trust me too.”

“Oh, honey,” my mother took me into her arms. Her floral perfume reminded me of my childhood and the constant hovering my parents did. “We just want to be sure when we get on that plane in two hours that you’re doing the right thing with Warren.”

I hugged her back. “Mom, please, for once in my life, just trust that I’m a good mom and love my son. I can’t have you and Dad going insane from my choices,” I said, pulling back and locking eyes with her. I looked at my dad, “Trust me. I’m a good daughter and mother.”

My dad walked over to me, his white hair brightened by the sun as it beat on us in the parking lot of St. John’s. “We’re sorry,” he said, hugging me, “we’re just concerned.” Then, he stepped back, and his brown eyes bore through me, “Be wise. I’m glad you have Warren here. If you didn’t, I don’t think we’d be able to leave, but now, we know you’re in good hands.”

“I’m going to be fine. Enjoy your flight, and please, just support me for once.”

Jesus H. Christ, just go! Today was the first time in two goddamn weeks that I was leaving the hospital, and this was my sendoff?

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