Page 43 of Check the Halls
"I don’t know. I’ll make something up on the spot. You may recall, I can be very convincing."
A humorless laugh escapes me. "And the second option?"
"I’ll be your man on the inside." His voice is sure, coaxing. "I’ve been to this pediatric ward a dozen times. There’s a direct route we can take that’ll bypass the other medical units. You can monitor everything from the nurses' desk. You won’t have to go into any patient rooms unless you want to."
Could that work? He makes it sound so doable, so much smaller than the mountain I’ve built in my head. My breath comes easier, my pulse less frantic. And yet, it irritates me how easily Ben can pull me back from the edge—how my body listens to him better than it listens to me.
"What if…" I swallow, my throat tight again. "What if I get in there and I can’t stand it?"
"Then you look at your phone, tell whoever's nearby that you have to make a call, and youget out."
I nod slowly, absorbing his words, but a different question gnaws at me. "Why do you care?"
The hurt that flashes across his face makes my stomach clench.
"I’m sorry," I rush to say. "I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t understand why you’re so hell-bent on seeing me do this."
He studies me for a long moment before speaking. "I just don’t like seeing you quit on yourself, Maddy. That’s not you."
Damn him.
He’s right. As much as I don’t want him to be, he is. I don’t back down from challenges. I don’t walk away froma fight. I worked damn hard for my position, and I will get the job done.
"Okay."
Ben lifts a slow, skeptical eyebrow. "Okay?"
I nod, my grip on his hands loosening, slightly. "Okay. Let’s do this."
His smile is soft. Maybe even a little proud. "There she is."
We start toward the entrance, walking in step, his presence grounding me. As we reach the doors, I hesitate. Just for a second.
"You’ve got this, Madness," he murmurs. "One foot in front of the other, slow breaths in and out…and if you need a distraction, just picture me naked."
My head jerks toward him. "How wouldthathelp?"
He winks. "Well, it couldn’t hurt."
I groan. "You are the worst."
Ben Michaels is the best.
Ambassador, that is. I have spent the last forty-five minutes watching him cast his spell over everyone in the ward and I am confident that all of them would throw themselves from a moving vehicle if he asked them to.
I spent the first few minutes with my fists clenched and my eyes glued to the Exit, but gradually, I got better. As Ben instructed, I stayed close to the nurses’ station. A nurse close to my age with pink hair and braces offered me a juice box shortly after I arrived. I don’t know if she was just being kind or if she sensed I might pass out, but either way, I was grateful.
I turn my attention back to Ben who is currently down on his knees playing mini sticks with a small girl with auburn hair. She’s maybe around eight or nine, but what she lacks in size, she makes up for in pure heart. The little girl's father is getting the entire thing on video while her mother watches next to me.
“She always has so much energy after her transfusions,” she says. A moment ago, she disclosed that her daughter, Piper, is severely anemic and receives blood transfusions regularly.
“She looks like she could scale the building right now.” I tell her.
“Please don’t give her any ideas.” She shakes her head. “This will be the highlight of her year.”
When Ben blocks her shot for the third time, Piper launches herself at him, knocking him off balance and taking him to the floor. It takes him a full minute to pick himself up because he’s laughing so hard. Piper looks very pleased with herself as her dad helps Ben to his feet.
I wander across the hall to a large playroom. Its brightly coloured toys and wall-to-wall animated murals make it look like the set of a whimsical children’s television show. There are eight children of various ages sitting on a large, round, rainbow rug, while their parents stand at the back of the room. Annika sits in front of the children on a miniature chair, readingThe Paperbag Princess. Every person in the room, young and old, hangs on her every word. It occurs to me that while this visit is for the children, their parents must get so much out of it too. I can’t imagine the stress and hardship of caring for a sick child. To see them so excited, so engaged, would mean everything. Looking around at the teary smiles, it’s a giftthey don’t take for granted. I feel privileged to be able to witness it.
