Page 8 of Lush Curves

“Just me.”

“Because I have blood,” Noah told him, wandering over to the table and sitting down. As soon as he did, a sense of relaxation settled over the E.R. Staff started picking up things from the floor, escorting patients back to gurneys and tables, and people exhaled in relief. “Lotsof blood. Not a such as Sarah, butstilllots.”

“Yes,” Sam said. “It is a lot.” He put on some gloves, moved closer to Noah. “Can you tell me what happened, Noah? Why you’re bleeding?”

“Oh!” Noah said suddenly, catching sight of the clock the wall. “Nine o’clock!”

“Today is a special day, Noah,” Sam said firmly. “Today at nine o’clock, you’re atmywork. OK?”

Noah stared at him. “Your work?”

“Yes.” Sam smiled at him. “Can you help me with my work, Noah?”

“Yes!” Noah said excitedly. “Can I be a doctor?”

“Sure.” Sam rolled his stool a bit closer, watched to see if Noah flinched or moved away. He clearly remembered that three years earlier, only Annie and Jax had been able to touch Noah, and he knew that for people with autism, touch was a potentially huge trigger. But Noah was fine, thank Christ. “You ready?”

“Yes!”

“OK.” Sam took a deep breath, caught the eye of a hovering nurse. “Now, Mr. Noah Matthews who I met here three years ago with your sister Sarah Matthews, trauma patient, the first thing that doctors do is look at injuries.”

The nurse nodded, rushed off to the computer.

“I have one,” Noah said, pointing at his head. “So you can look at mine. But what am I going to look at?”

“My elbow,” Sam said.

“It hurts?”

“Yep.”

“Is there blood?”

“Not anymore.”

“Oh.” Noah was clearly disappointed. “I want to look at blood.”

“That can maybe be arranged. First though, let me show you how to examine a patient. Watch close now.”

“OK.” Noah stared at Sam, almost unblinking. “I’m watching.”

“So…” This was the tricky part, and Sam knew it. “It means touching a person. Can I touch you, Noah?”

“Yes, Doctor Sam.”

“OK, good. Slow and easy.”

Sam was as good as his word: he was nothing but gentle with Noah as he parted his thick red hair carefully and found the gaping wound. There were shards of glass embedded in the blood, and Sam winced, knowing that he’d have to tweeze them out before stitching that cut up. Healsoknew that he’d be sending Noah for some scans to check for any internal damage, and he wondered how the other man was going to handle that.

“Can you tell me what happened now, Noah?” Sam asked as he prepared the injection to numb the area around the cut. “How you got hurt?”

“On the bus,” Noah answered promptly. “A car hit the bus.”

“You were in an accident?”

“Yes.” Noah stared at the needle. “Is that for me?”

“Yes.”

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