Page 17 of Love on the Brain
Jane laughed. “Yes, we are.”
“Am I better?” he asked.
Jane didn’t know how to answer that question. “Uncle Ryan was able to get enough of the bad stuff out to send to a lab that can tell us what it is. Once we find out, we’ll make a plan.”
“Is it the same bad as what Daddy had?”
Jane tensed. “I’m praying it’s not.” Not once had Jane or anyone close to Noah mentioned the “C” word. She hadn’t wanted to scare him.
“But it could be?” His little voice cracked her heart.
She didn’t want to lie to him. “It could be. But we shouldn’t worry about it. We can pray for God to take our worry and fears away and for Him to send us a plan.”
“Okay.”
After Noah was evaluated, Transportation arrived to bring him back to his room. Jane held his hand through the slats in the rail until they reached the room’s door.
The attendant gestured for her to enter first. Ryan was already there, updating her in-laws and his parents. And was that—
“Wes!” Ryan’s younger brother grinned, and before she could process how or why he was there, she was enveloped in a bone-crushing hug. The younger of the Engstrom siblings had gone to college via a football scholarship and, though he was currently in seminary, had not lost an inch off his rock-solid muscular frame. Two inches shorter than Ryan at six feet one but stockier, at twenty-five, Wesley had grown out as much as he’d grown up over the last few years.
“I can’t stay long; need to get back to Waco before the storm. I had to see our boy, though.” He released her and turned toward the bed. “Hey, bud. Do you remember me? It’s been a while.”
Noah furrowed his brow. “You’re in a picture on my shelf.”
Wes laughed. “Awesome. I’m this guy’s brother.” He pointed his thumb toward Ryan. “Your dad was the coolest guy on our street. He was my friend from the day I wasborn.”
“Whoa,” Noah said. “That’s a long time.”
“It sure is. Is my brother taking good care of you?” Wes asked. Jane’s lips twitched. Wes always had a way with kids. He’d been a vacation Bible school teacher as a teen, and no one was surprised when he decided to go to seminary to be a youth pastor.
“Yeah.” Noah smiled and looked at Ryan. “Uncle Ryan is the best.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Can I pray for you before I go?”
“Yeah. Mommy said we need to pray for a plan. Can you pray for a plan to get the bad stuff out of my head?”
“You got it. Is it okay if I place my hand on your shoulder?”
“Yeah.”
Jane snuck a glance at Ryan. His eyes shone as he watched the exchange between Wes and Noah. Behind him, Connie dabbed at her eyes.
Wes was still praying. “…and God, we trust you to get rid of—hey, Noah, what’s the bad stuff’s name?”
“Its name?” He looked at Ryan. “I don’t know what it is. Uncle Ryan doesn’t either.”
“Let’s give it a name,” Wes suggested. “Something silly, so that when we talk about it, it’s not scary. Let’s see … how about Doofus?”
Noah laughed. “That’s silly. But not silly enough. How about … Stinky?”
Wes leaned over Noah and sniffed. “All I smell is clean sheets.”
“It’s probably stinky on the inside,” Noah justified. “Like poop.”
Jane snorted. Everything went back to poop when it came to little boys. Whatever. If it made him laugh and worry less, she’d let him call it anything.
“Stinky it is!” Wes declared. “God, we trust you to get rid of Stinky completely, every last wisp and trace, and heal Noah so that he’s well and able to play baseball this summer. Amen.”
