Page 68 of The Doctor's Surprise Family

This was news to me. I couldn’t picture them angry, not at each other. “And you two are happy? You’re doing okay?”

Sam smiled, wide and sunny. “We’re doing great. We’re talking about a baby, maybe next year.”

“And you don’t worry it’ll all fall apart?”

“Sometimes.” Sam shrugged. “Things fall apart. But you can’t make life choices based on that chance. You’ll never do anything if you think that way.Anyrelationship can fall apart. Any career can fail. Nothing’s for sure. But I wake up every day and I choose Joelle. She wakes up next to me, and she chooses me. We get through the bad times, and we fight for the good. That’s how it works.”

“Relationships?”

“Yeah.” Sam grabbed my shoulder and gave me a shake. “I can’t tell you, ‘do this, and it’ll all be okay.’ But my advice would be, work out your shit. Figure out what you want, then go back to Claire. Talk to her, and don’t run if she wants to fight. Let her get it all out, and make sure you listen. Then, once the dust clears, you can move on from there.”

A lump rose in my throat. I swallowed it down. What Sam was saying sounded too good to be true: Claire could get mad at me, and not mean goodbye? We could still be a family, at least in some form? I’d been so sure she’d never want to see me again, except for the time it took to hand off Oli.

“Think it over,” said Sam. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t. Thanks, man.”

“And if Joelle asks you, I kicked your ass.”

I kind of felt like he had. Like he’d shocked my whole system. “Kicked it good,” I said.

Sam stood up again. “Well, I’ve got to get back.”

I sat all choked up, watching him go. I’d asked myself sometimes, how did folks stay together? How did they go years, and not mess it up? Could it be theydid, and then they just fixed it? I was good at fixing things, tables, chairs, bodies. Claire was, as well, so maybe together, maybe the two of us could fix what we had.

CHAPTER 25

CLAIRE

Ihadn’t seen Blake much since our fight. I hadn’t expected to. That was him to a tee. He’d drawn into himself like a snail in his shell, and I’d tried to convince myself that suited me fine. But I’d thought for a minute, when he’d caught me at work, he might try to fight for us. For Oli, at least. Then I’d let loose on him and he’d shut down, like he did every time. That was what hurt the most, that he’d backed down so easy. I’d have screamed and clawed to keep him and Oli. Even if I knew the effort was doomed.

I didn’t want to call him when I got beeped for a shift, but his leave would be up in only five days. Oli deserved all the dad time he could get.

Blake must’ve been close, because he came right over. Oli ran out to hug him, and I followed behind.

“I’ll be late,” I said. “But Mom should be home for dinner. You can leave Oli with her after you eat.”

Blake disengaged Oli, who was climbing his leg. “Actually, I was thinking, could I stay? Could we talk?”

I pursed my lips. I knew what this was. Blake wanted to say goodbye, this time without yelling. As if that took the sting out of him walking out.

“I might not be home till after midnight.”

“That’s fine,” said Blake. “I don’t mind waiting up.”

Iminded, a lot, but I was too tired to argue. And at least once we did this, it would be done. I could stop lying awake dreaming he’d change, and somehow he’d fight for us, and we’d be a family. “All right,” I said. “But wait in the guest house. I don’t want to wake Oli, or my parents.”

That night at work, I got “the face” three times. I couldn’t focus. I kept screwing up. I asked a patient with stomach pain to show me his feet, and the one with the broken foot, I handled all wrong. He kicked out with his good foot when I tried to examine him, and I lost it and snapped at him, and I got “the face.” I got it again when I misread a chart note, and for the third time when I made a kid cry.

“You have to talk to them.” Muller snatched the kid’s chart. “You can’t just drop your stethoscope down a two-year-old’s back. They feel that cold metal, they’re going to cry.”

“I know,” I said.

“Then, you need to do better. You can’t have a bad night. However bad you feel, that kid feels worse, and it’syourjob to help him. Not make him cry.” She swept out of the room and I followed, ashamed. I’d got “the face” before, but this was far worse. Muller was angry. Angry at me. Worse, I deserved it. I’d had Blake in my head all through my shift, but no amount of obsessing would change what was coming. I wouldn’t cry, I promised myself. Whatever he said to me, however it hurt, I’dsmile at him blandly and then let him go. No point in fighting, if he wouldn’t fight by my side.

I cleared my head with an effort and went on with my shift, and somehow I made it through to the end.

“Get some rest,” said Muller. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

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