Page 8 of Love on the Brain
“No buts. You’ve just started building that up again. You can stay with Connie and Dale for however long it takes for Noah to recover. And it may behoove you to have the tumor removal surgery there, too. I trust Ryan.”
The edge of anger had returned to his voice. Her dad had a point. If Ryan could do the biopsy, maybe he could remove the whole thing.
“Okay,” she whispered weakly. “Will you pray with me, Dad?”
“You betcha, kid.” Taking her hand in his, he bowed his head and put to words all the thoughts and requests in her heart.
* * *
Ryan pacedthe hall after ending his call with hospital scheduling. They couldn’t get Noah in for another month. He’d been so confident there’d be an opening in his schedule.
Too many sick kids. He growled in frustration at the unfairness of ill and suffering children, wanting to pound his fist into the concrete wall.
Not a good idea for a man whose livelihood—and the actual lives of children—depended on those hands to be fully functioning and steady. Instead, he squeezed his fingers around the key fob to his rental car and leaned against the wall to concentrate on slowing his breathing.
The door to Noah’s room opened, and Pastor Porter stepped into the hall. “I think it’s time for Dale and Connie to have a turn. I texted them we were out. Can I buy you a coffee?”
“Sure.” Ryan fell into step with Jane’s father and was surprised when they stopped at the nurses’ station.
“Hey, Pastor, how’s your grandson doing? And Jane?” Ryan scanned the woman’s name badge.Lynda.Was she a friend of Jane’s?
“Still sleeping. Jane is Jane, as you know.”
“Inwardly a wreck and outwardly in control.” She grinned. “We all know.”
He smiled. “Do you think you can get her a new shirt? I think she, um, lost her breakfast.”
Ryan’s head snapped up as he remembered the incident with the pot. “It’s in the planter on the other side of the door.”
Lynda’s expression softened. “Sure thing. And I’ll get maintenance on that right away.” Her brow furrowed. “I thought she packed an overnight bag?”
“She did,” Pastor Porter said. “But she left it in her car. We’ll get it to her, but for the sake of the other visitors… I know she’d be mortified if she was thinking clearly.”
That was true. Why hadn’t Ryan thought of that?
“No problem,” Lynda said. “I’ll get her a new top right away.”
The pastor thanked her, and they followed the signage to the hospital cafeteria. Ryan had been in many hospitals over the course of his career, and he liked to observe the architecture and layout, try to get a sense of the period in time the building was constructed and what tech was available. The brick shell of Acadia Memorial was easily over one hundred years old, but the interior was afforded every modern technological convenience.
After purchasing and fixing their coffees, Grant led the way to a small two-top against the far wall. Ryan slid onto the metal chair and waited for the older man to speak.
“Something you’ve got to know about Jane,” he said. “She’s changed since Casey died. And not for the better.”
The words hit Ryan like a battering ram to the chest, and he hung his head, wishing he’d done a better job of staying in touch. He’d noticed she seemed unusually agitated at the dedication yesterday, but her anxiety had appeared to lift the more they spoke and reminisced.
“Casey’s death left her floundering for control. You know my Jane. She’s a perfectionist to the core. She worries about everything, mostly Noah. We’d been working through it and making progress, and then Noah was kidnapped from the playground, right out from under Shelby’s eyes.”
“I heard the story.” Not from Jane, though. Molly had messaged him, and he’d reached out to Jane to see if there was anything he could do to help. She’d asked him to pray for them, and he had.
The pastor continued. “Since then, she’s been doing everything she can to become even more self-sufficient. She’s unwilling to rely on anyone except me to take care of Noah and has hardly spent any time with her friends since the incident.” He met Ryan’s gaze and held it. “I think you can help. She’s always listened to you, valued your opinion, and taken your advice, from what I can see, anyway.”
“What can I do?” Ryan asked. He’d do anything to get the old Jane back. It pained his heart to know how badly she was hurting.
“Damon hosts a game night every Thursday. If Noah is stable, whether he’s still here or at home, I want you to insist she go tomorrow night. Will you still be in town?”
“Yeah. Dale, Connie, and I are flying out Friday morning.”
“Good. You can take her, then.” He smiled and sipped his coffee. “We grandparents will sit with the little guy.”
