Page 33 of The Suit

“If you’ll follow me down to my office, I have some consent forms for you to sign, then I’ll introduce you to the kids.”

I followed him in what would have been silence if he hadn’t been asking so many questions, although I’d rather his than the questions I was asking myself.

Like,WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?

And I wasn’t, I wasn’t thinking. I hadn’t been thinking clearly since I’d arrived in this goddamn city. New York had stripped me of common sense, judgement, and most importantly, braincells.

I should never have sent that order back to him. It was entirely unprofessional even if it would win the approval of Feather and Maynard if they ever asked me. I’d known full well it would rile him up and likely have him storming across the city, though even I couldn’t have predicted the consequences.

In all our days of fighting through college I’d never seen him so angry, never so raw – even that time I’d scored higher than him on our first year exams by half a percent. But standing there towering over me, his rich blue eyes alight with rage and boring through to my soul, something had snapped. I saw the second it happened, a breath before his hot mouth crushed mine, and I discovered the answer to the question I’d asked myself the very first time I’d seen him in Professor Callahan’s class – yes, his lips reallywerethat soft.

“Grey didn’t go into much detail, but I’m curious as to what brought you together in Chicago.”

I cleared my throat to distract myself from the tightness which always took residence in my chest whenever I thought of my brother, but I didn’t want to share that with this stranger, doctor or not.

“It’s something I like to do to give back.” It was the non-answer I always gave if anyone asked, not that anyone did or knew how I spent my time out of work, aside from Blake. Because working hundred-hour weeks doesn’t give you much of a personal life.

“Hmmm, well it’s wonderful. And we’re very grateful.”

I wasn’t sure if he bought my half-truth or not, and I didn’t care. With any luck I wouldn’t see him again, because I’d be back in Chicago next weekend. I was only here because I’d made a promise to myself when Jackson died, that I would continue reading to kids who didn’t have anyone to read to them in their last days. Santa and Muscot had suggested it when I confided in them about wanting to do something for Jackson’s memory. I’d started to go to the hospital in Kent County, then continued all through my years at Harvard, fitting it in between studying, and finally in Chicago where I’d been for the last seven years. I’d never missed a Saturday.I might be known as a hard-nosed bitch at work, unapproachable, the closer - but in the hospitals, to the kids, I was Beulah the book lady, plain and simple.

He passed me the forms when we reached his desk, and I scrawled along the bottom of each page. As a lawyer I probably should have read the fine print, but I’d signed so many over the years that they all merged into one. And it wouldn’t matter; it was two hours a week, then I’d be gone until the next time.

“We currently have four children from the state foster system who are too sick to place with families - or too much and too expensive to manage,” he added, as I followed him out of the office and down the corridor.

“How sick?”

His eyes flashed, the reality of his job showing through for the first time since I’d arrived. “Jayden is nine, he has an inoperable brain tumor. His scans came back last week, and we discovered further growth. We’re doing what we can to make him comfortable, and he’s a bright, sweet kid right now,” he smiled sadly, in a way I was all too familiar with. “Miles is eleven. He’s going through his third round of chemo. He has non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. Britney is also eleven, also with lymphoma. And then Zoe is four. She’s a fighter. She has a tumor on the base of her spine, so she’d confined to bed or a wheelchair until we can shrink it enough to remove.”

I stopped the lump forming in my throat, because they didn’t need my pity, no matter how it made me feel. “Will she make it out?”

His hands rammed into his lab coat and he rocked on his heels. “We don’t know yet. Sometimes they do, but I just don’t know.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Okay, want to meet the rabble?”

I nodded with a smile.

He pushed open the door to the ward, “Hi, gang. I have someone I want you to meet.”

Four sets of eyes turned to me, and I took them in; all lively and strong, even if the medicine they were on had dulled them a little. Dr. Boyson had been right about the youngest one, she did have fight.

“This is my good friend, Beulah.”

I waved as enthusiastically as I always did, always trying to emulate the cheeriness of the staff who ran the wards. “Hi, guys! Thank you so much for letting me come and see you.”

The little one, Zoe, frowned slightly. “Why are you here?”

I smiled at her. “Well, if it’s okay with you, I was passing by with a couple of books and I thought you might like to hear a story. Would that be okay?”

“What books?” came a question from my right, and whom I assumed was Miles.

“I have a selection.” I reached into my big tote and pulled them out.

“That one, that one!” cried Zoe, pointing to the one which had been Jackson’s favorite, the pages now a little frayed and dog eared.

“It’s the best one to start with,” I grinned.

Dr. Boyson grinned back at me and walked out, as I took a seat and started reading Dr Seuss’ Oh the Places You’ll Go.

* * *

---