Page 27 of Wake Me Up
He gives her a curt nod, holding his iPad under his arm. “That was the plan, but I was coming up here to meet with the hospital on another case, so I thought,What the heck?There’s no time like the present to come meet you.” He shifts his eyes to mine, as if wondering if I should leave. “Is right now a good time?”
“Y-yes,” she answers softly, sitting back down in her seat.
“I’ll head out,” I say, ready to beeline it for the door.
The last thing I want to do is make her uncomfortable. Or more uncomfortable.
“You can stay,” she says, surprising me. “I’m sure Avy will want to thank you when she gets back from her scan.”
She turns her attention back to the doctor, and he sits on the edge of the bed while I reluctantly take a seat in one of the empty chairs.
“So, I know Dr. Ash talked a bit with you about the surgery we’d like to perform on Aviana.” He pauses. “I just want to answer any questions you may have and walk you through everything.”
His words send a shock wave through me. I know seizures in children are bad, but I didn’t know she needed surgery.
Fuck. No wonder why Freya looks so nervous.
I wish I could walk over to her and take her hand. Right now, she needs comfort, but I’m sure she doesn’t want it from a dude who’s basically a stranger.
“Okay,” she whispers, the frown lines on her face growing a little deeper. Her eyes are swirling with fear, and her brows pull together tightly as she waits for him to keep talking.
Dr. Blanchard goes into details about the surgery and what will take place. I hear every word, but I can’t keep my eyes from Freya. Who, even though she’s feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders in this exact moment, is staying strong.
After a few minutes of him explaining and a whole lot of nods from Freya, telling him she’s listening, he sets his iPad down. “I could perform the surgery a little over two weeks from tomorrow. We can set the date as soon as you’re ready.”
“Wow, that soon?” she blurts out. “Why, uh—why do you have openings that soon?”
I get what she’s asking. If he’s that good, why does he have this sudden hole in his schedule so fast?
“I had a cancellation the same time I consulted with Dr. Ash on this case,” he says matter-of-factly.
Her face seems paler now, and she chews her lip. Her eyes look lost, and she looks down at the ground. “Uh … I don’t …” She pauses, bringing her gaze back to him. Her lip is now trembling, and her eyes are glazed over. “The thing is … I’ve been on the phone with our insurance company for two days. They aren’t going to cover the surgery.”
Her cheeks turn a crimson red, and she side-glances at me. In this moment, I know without her saying a word that she wishes I had left the room.
I look at Dr. Ash, who looks painfully angry, though I know it isn’t at Freya, but at the insurance company. Dr. Blanchard just seems baffled.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. That’s actually quite shameful.” He stops, looking thoughtful. “I can put together a rough estimate on the operation. That way, you can go over … options.” His eyes move to mine, and he looks down. “I’ve got to get to another meeting before I head back to Boston.” Reaching in his pocket, he pulls out a business card and hands it to her. “This has the direct line to my office as well as my email. Please, keep me in the loop.”
“Thank you. I will,” she whispers.
Dr. Ash looks at her sadly but takes a step back. “I’m going to walkDr. Blanchard to his meeting to discuss a few things about Aviana’s case. I’ll stop back in before she gets discharged.”
“Thanks, Dr. Ash,” Freya whispers brokenly.
She sinks into her chair deeper, sighing. “Well … this is a super-fun day.”
In this moment, I don’t have a fucking clue what to say. I could tell her everything would be fine, but that’d be a lie. But I do know one easy solution … though as strong as she is, something tells me she isn’t going to like it.
Pushing myself up from the chair, I walk over to her and crouch down. She keeps her gaze on the floor, chewing her lip. But when I put my hand over hers, sad eyes snap to mine.
“Let me give you the money for the surgery,” I whisper. “It would be the best money I’ve ever spent, helping your daughter get better.”
The expression that suddenly covers her face like a blanket makes it seem like I slapped her. Her eyes narrow the slightest, and her brows furrow. Yanking her hand out from under mine, she holds it with her other hand.
“Why would I let you pay for my daughter’s surgery?” she whispers, on the border of being angry. “You’re already giving my son free lessons. I’m not a charity case, you know.”
“I know, Freya,” I say, defending myself. “But I have money. Too much money. So, please, just let me do this for you.”
