Page 21 of The Doctor's Surprise Family

“Or up to a judge, if he takes it that way.” That would be just what I needed right now, some court battle eating up my time with Oli. Bad enough I was working intern’s hours, without endless meetings with lawyers, social workers.

“No way he’d do that.” Joelle squeezed my arm. “I mean, he’ll be leaving in less than six weeks. His whole life is off on the other side of the world. What would he gain from going to court?”

“That’s true,” I said, unclenching a little. “But, at the same time, you make a good point. Hedoeslive abroad, so how does that look for Oli? He meets his dad, falls in love with him, and he’s gone just like that? Iknowhow that feels. I don’t want it for Oli.”

“I guess there’s no chance he’d transfer back here.”

“I wouldn’t stake Oli’s heart on it.” I bit back a sigh. “How does that saying go? When someone shows you who they are, you ought to believe them. Well, Blake puts his career first. That’s who he is. And Oli has me, and he has his grandparents. I don’t know. It’s a lot. What do I do?”

“Nothing,” said Joelle. “Not till you’re sure.”

I closed my eyes and just breathed. Joelle was right. Oli had gone his whole life without Blake. A few days to think wouldn’t make any difference. Well, maybe to Blake it would, but Oli came first. Any half-decent father would understand that.

“I should go,” I said. “I’m on Muller’s service.”

Joelle laughed at that, and we both did “the face” — squinting, lips pinched, like Dr. Muller. Being late on a Monday would get me “the face.” Mondays in the ER were slammed without fail,folks tired from their weekends driving to work, plus workplace mishaps and a lot of flu bugs. They’d get sick on Friday and sleep all weekend, then wake up on Monday too drained for work. Then they’d come coughing everywhere, spreading their bugs.

Today was no exception, a typical Monday. Muller let me examine a barfy toddler, no doubt soI’dget sprayed if he blew on the table. He didn’t, and Muller diagnosed too much cake. He’d had his third birthday and stuffed his face at the party, and his little tummy needed to settle.

“Keep him hydrated,” I told his mom. “No fizzy drinks, though, and nothing too sweet. Electrolyte drinks will be best, if you’ve got them, a few sips at first till he keeps them down.”

After that came a flurry of workplace disasters, a hand slammed in a kitchen door, a sliced-up finger. I practiced my stitching on that, while Muller looked on.

“You did well in there,” she said, when we’d finished. “Your stitches could be cleaner. You’re pulling too much. But you kept that man calm, and you kept him distracted. You’ll learn with experience how essential that is. Let them dwell on what’s happening, and that’s when they’ll faint on you, or puke in your lap, or pee their pants. And I don’t just mean kids. I’ve seen grown men do it.”

“What, faint on you? Or pee their pants?”

“Yes.” Muller grimaced. “Okay, let’s move on.”

Our next patient was a ten-year-old brought in from school. He’d climbed up a drainpipe and crashed down on asphalt, and his arm was broken. He looked up.

“Where’s my dad?”

“On his way,” I said, while Muller went for his arm. “No, don’t look at her. Look over here. You see those letters behind me?”

“You mean the eye chart?” He jerked as Muller touched him and screamed out in pain.

“I won’t hurt you,” she said. “But you need to stay still.”

“I can’t,” wailed the boy. “It hurts. Where’s my dad?”

I glanced at Muller, unsure what to say. One of the nurses had called his dad’s work, but he was a delivery driver out on his rounds. It was anyone’s guess if he’d got the message, and if he had, how far out he was.

“Listen,” said Muller, “how about I show you on Dr. Everett? I’ll show you on her arm how I’ll check yours, and then you can tell me if that’s okay.”

The boy hitched a huge breath and let it out in a howl. I knelt down in front of him.

“Hey, it’s all right. She’ll be quick, I swear.”

Nothing. The kid squinched his eyes and screamed louder. I slapped a smile on and tried again.

“Y’know, when your dad comes, he can sign your cast. You can pick out the color pink, green, or blue. Or the regular white one, but blech, right? That’s boring.” I kept my voice low so he’d have to quit screaming, at least if he wanted to hear what I said. As I’d hoped, the part about Dad caught his ear.

“You promise he’s coming?”

“We called his work.” That wasn’t a promise, but the kid seemed to buy it. He sniffed, wiped his nose, and scowled up at Muller.

“Can’t she do like the dentist and put my arm to sleep?”

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