Page 1 of My Silver Fox Savior

CHAPTER ONE

LANDON

Doctor Franklin is a young man. He can’t be older than thirty. Maybe that makes me pessimistic, thinking of myself asoldwhen I’m only ten years his senior. Yet, with the spark in his eyes and the eager way he leans forward, the difference seems significant.

After a pause, he seems to remind himself he should behave seriously. “I wish I had better news, Mr. Cross,” he says, his office far too bright and airy for the weight in his words. “But during your routine health check, we found some anomalies. This warranted further investigation and …”

I sit forward, resting my forearms on my knees and staring the younger man in the eye. “Just tell me.”

“Your test results show a high likelihood of an advanced and extremely rare form of cancer,” he says, again seeming a little too animated and even excited about it. “Given this type of cancer, it tends to progress rapidly. Treatment options are limited. I will refer you to an oncologist immediately, but I must be honest,” he says, pausing dramatically. “We’re likely looking at months, not years.”

“Oh, right,” I say, feeling numb, knowing there’s lots I should probably be experiencing. “I see.”

Doctor Franklin sucks in a breath through gritted teeth. Maybe he thinks he showed far too much naked and obvious excitement about thisrareform. I can hear him bragging to his colleagues about thefind. “I’m going to arrange the oncologist referral now. How does tomorrow work?”

Suddenly, my chest feels tight. My throat feels like it’s closing as I breathe heavily. I don’t even know why I do it, but I lie. “Uh, no. I can’t do it tomorrow. I’ve got an important appearance in court.”

“The next appointment isn’t until … next week; that’ll be five days.”

“That’s fine.” I wave a hand, standing up. My head feels loose on my shoulders, rocking from side to side, but I’m sure I’m not standing in Doctor Franklin’s office. Instead, I’m headbanging like some reject at a metal concert. It’s all, well, in my head. “Thank you.”

When I offer my hand, he takes it quickly. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to discuss this further? I can go over some details with you.”

Months, not years.

“No, it’s fine. Thank you, Doctor.”

“We’ll call you with the appointment details,” he yells after me.

I turn my back and walk quickly away from him. The receptionist looks up in shock when I burst through the waiting room door. Other patients are looking at me, too, their facestight with fear and imagined pain.Look at that guy in the slick suit. I wonder what news he just got.

I’m halfway across the lot when I get a video call from my mother. Leaning against my car, I answer it. Mom and Dad are sitting on their sunny Maltese balcony, suntanned and happy like they always are when they call me.

“Did you get your health check?” Mom asks right away.

“You’d think a man would get some freedom from his parents at forty.”

“We moved to a different continent to get away fromyou, son,” Dad says jokingly. Then, he shows his seriousness, too. “But did you?”

“He wouldn’tnotgo,” Mom says under her breath.

“I went.”

“And?”they say together, leaning forward … together.

I started getting these twice-yearly health checks when my older brother, Charley, passed away from a heart attack. It was an event that rocked all of us. It came suddenly, leaving us feeling like we were walking around a ghost town, trying to piece together some semblance of our previous world.

“It was fine,” I tell them, another lie.

“Oh, good,” Dad says.

“I knew it would be. Look at him!”

Yet Charley seemed healthy, too. That was one thing that made Mom and Dad so health-conscious after he passed away. I remember standing at his grave, tears stinging my eyes, Mom’shand latched onto mine as she wept and begged that I start taking precautions.

In a way, she was right. I’ve learned about this rare form of cancer now.

Months, not years. More than anything, I’m worried about Mom and Dad. Charley’s passing almost broke them. I’m all they have left.

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