Page 142 of The Single Dad

“We fell out of a tree at the park and landed a little funny,” Riley says, ruffling Archie’s hair. “Is there any way we can get this arm checked out?”

“Of course,” says the nurse. She leans over to look at Archie. “Where does it hurt?”

He points with his good arm to the spot just below his elbow. The nurse nods, then taps something into her keyboard.

“Okay. The doctor will be ready to see you in a few minutes, so please take a seat.”

I stiffen, my teeth gritted. “A few minutes?”

“That’s right,” the nurse says, oblivious to the building storm in my head.

I feel Riley’s touch on my arm, feather-light. “Cole,” she says quietly, “let’s sit down. It’s only gonna be a few minutes.”

She ushers both me and Archie over to the waiting chairs, and we sit together in silence. The only noises in the emergency room lobby are the sounds of the receptionist’s keyboard and the television above our heads, where a meteorologist is giving a weather report.

“Clear skies today, with a high around fifty-five degrees, but we’re probably going to see a few storms on the horizon as we head into the night—”

“Hey,” Riley says, leaning toward me. “He’ll be okay. You can loosen up a little.”

I realize that my hands are still balled into fists. I try to make my muscles unclench, but I can’t bring myself to. I’m on high alert, like I’m facing down an imminent fight.

My kid—the defenseless little boy I’ve sworn to protect, my sister’s son—is in pain. He’s hurt. There are tears in his eyes, and nothing can distract him from his distress.

My runaway mind won’t let me calm down, either. What if there are worse injuries? What if he has a concussion? He might have hit his head when he fell. My thoughts begin to spiral, and not even Riley’s hand on my thigh can soothe me.

At long last, the door into the emergency room opens, and a white-coated doctor strides out, a stethoscope draped over her shoulders and her dark curls pulled into a utilitarian bun.

“Archer Sullivan?”

Riley helps Archie to his feet, and I follow the two of them numbly. Through the haze of worry, I know that I can’t voice any of it, or I’d risk frightening Archie even more.

The doctor takes Archie to an examining room, setting him on the plastic-covered bench to check his vitals. As she works, she gives him a friendly smile and says, “Don’t sweat it, kiddo. It happens to the best of us.”

“R-really?” Archie sniffles.

“Oh, yeah.” The doctor’s grin widens. “I once fell off a horse, and my arm looked just like yours. And check it out—” She rolls up her sleeve and flexes, showing Archie the easy movement of her forearm. “Just fine now. It’s okay to cry, though. I bet it hurts real bad.”

Archie nods miserably. “It does,” he says, his voice thick with tears.

“This nice doctor is going to make it all better,” Riley says, giving Archie a reassuring smile.

The doctor reaches out a hand. “Let’s take a look at that arm, shall we?”

She examines Archie’s forearm for a minute or so, feeling her way along the bruised skin to figure out the source of the pain. After she’s finished, she turns to me and Riley.

“It’s almost certainly broken,” she says, confirming my fears. I breathe in sharply through my nose, and Riley lays a hand on my shoulder.

“That’s what we figured,” Riley tells the doctor.

“We’re going to do some x-rays, just to be sure there are no other injuries we’re not seeing.”

The doctor helps Archie down from the bench. The boy is still sniffling, his discomfort obvious from his expression.

“Don’t worry, this won’t hurt a bit,” the doctor says encouragingly. “Plus, you’ll get a nice, cool picture of your bones! You can show all of your friends.”

The doctor leads us down the hallway, and Riley and I stand in the corner of the x-ray room as the techs position Archie in front of a large, white screen, draping a lead-lined vest over his torso. Once they’re finished, they take us back to the exam room, where we wait in silence for the doctor to return.

When she does, she’s carrying the x-rays of Archie’s injured arm. She waves them and grimaces. “Yep, it’s exactly what we thought. A broken arm, plain and simple.”

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