Page 19 of Scooter's Endgame
“You’re in good hands. She’s brilliant. When I have children one day and I’m ever in need of a pediatric cardiologist, I want her. She’s absolutely fabulous, and such a nice lady.”
“Good to know. Then I’m glad Luke got her, on Dr. Ackhurst’s recommendation.” The bell dings, and this time we stop on the right floor.
“This is us,” Beckett says, placing his hand between my shoulder blades. “Cheers, Indie. I’m sure I’ll see you soon. Take care.”
“You too, Scooter. So long, Kathleen. Hope Luke’s home real soon, lovely.”
“Thanks so much, Indigo. Bye.”
We step off the lift and survey our surroundings. Beckett spots the signpost for the children’s ward, and we head in that direction. Stepping up to the nurses’ desk, I ask for Luke’s room.
“Are you that sweet, sweet boy’s mama?” the nurse, an older lady, asks, a soft look on her face.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You have such a wonderful son. So respectful and just lovely.”
Feeling a like a stuck record, at this point, I reply, “Thank you very much. He’s such a good boy.”
“I can see that.” She smiles as she comes out from behind the desk. “Come on, Mama. Let’s take you to your little guy.”
My heart hurts – physically hurts – as I walk into the room and see him hooked up to machines and IVs, his small body so fragile and vulnerable looking in the bed.
“Hey champ, your mama’s here,” the nurse calls out as we enter the room.
Luke turns his head in our direction, his pale face lighting up when he spots me. “Mama, I missed you.”
Holy guacamole, just kill me now. I’m not sure how many more hits my poor heart can take tonight. “I missed you too, bud. But from what I hear, you’ve been busy.”
“Yeah. I’ve been all over the hospital.” He grins as if it’s been some great adventure. “I even got to ride on the magic carpet.”
I frown, confused at his words. Then wonder if it’s maybe something in one of the drips that’s got him imagining things. “The magic carpet?”
“Yep. They took me to this biiiiig, weird tunnel, and I got to ride the magic carpet from one bed to the other. It was fun.” His giggle is infectious, and I can’t help laughing along.
Thankfully, the nurse clarifies the mystery ride for me, whispering quietly beside me. “They didn’t want him falling off either of the beds – the meds they’re pushing through one of the IVs can make them a bit lightheaded and unsteady on their feet. So they transferred him over, telling him it was a magic carpet.”
“Ah, got you. Thanks. I confess I was pretty confused there.”
She laughs. “We were too, at first.”
Despite how difficult tonight has been, Luke almost dying, it’s reassuring to know he’s been treated so well. It makes it somewhat easier to deal with having been separated from him for the past few hours, knowing that he was entertained rather than frightened out of his wits.
A call signal chimes somewhere down the passage, and the kind nurse goes off to answer it. Beckett and I take up a position on one side of the bed, so Luke doesn’t have to look back and forth between us. He regales us with tales of his various tests and scans he’s had done, while I try not to panic over thecha-chingsounds I can hear in my head.
Tomorrow is soon enough to freak out over how I’m going to pay for all of this.
After a few minutes, Beckett excuses himself from the room. I’m so focused on my son that it isn’t until he comes back that I realize he’s been gone for a good long while. Then I notice the bag he has in his hand.
“I grabbed some of your stuff out of the car while I was talking to Knight. I don’t know how long we’ll be here, so I included some delicates. I apologize if you feel that’s overstepping the mark.”
A few things hit at the same time – an unaccustomed sensation of being taken care of, mortification that he’s had his hands all over my underwear, and lastly, bafflement over the “we” comment.
“Erm, thanks.”
“Also, I’ve arranged with Knight to take a couple days, so I can be here with you g–”
“Beckett, no. I don’t expect you to disrupt your life for us. We’re friends, sure, but this is – I …” Tears choke the words off, yet again.
