Page 42 of From the Ashes
Dr. Parks finally speaks, his voice even. “You’ve made yourself vulnerable with her, and she did the same. Maybe that’s why you feel so connected to her now. Maybe that’s why you’re falling for her.”
Vulnerable. The word my father used to beat out of me with a belt when he thought I had become too soft after playing with my sisters.I swallow then nod, glancing back down at my boots. “I guess… Yeah.”
LANA
“I can’t see Noah. Has anyone seen him?” I put my hand exaggeratedly on my hips while I try to ignore my four-year-old, hidden behind the curtains of his bed. Hide and seek is his favorite game, but he often laughs so loud when I search for him that it betrays his location in less than a few seconds. “Well, I guess he’s not here.” I chuckle. “That’s too bad, I had special candies for him.”
I shake the Skittles bag in the air before turning back to the stairs. Little footsteps follow me, and I turn fast, my son putting his palms on his eyes as if he could still be hidden. “Gotcha!” I smile, lifting him up in the air and hugging him tight. “You did great, but I could see your socks under the curtains,” I giggle while tickling him.
“Oh no, next time I’ll hide under my bed and you won’t find me, Mommy.”
“Okay, we’ll do that.”
“Can I have candies now, please?”
“Sure, but only a handful.”
Sugar and kids are kind of an explosive mix, especially with Noah. He gets those sugar rushes and then sleeps for hours, like he can’t handle anything anymore. So we decided on less sweets this year to avoid him being overwhelmed. I mean, I decided, because Noah was way more into the whole “let’s only eat candies for dinner” kind of idea.
“You never buy those usually,” he gasps as he eats his little Skittles while sitting on the sofa with a large dinosaur book on his lap. I fold some laundry on the dining table, enjoying our small home and how close we can always be, even if I’m doing something else next to him.
“A friend gave them to me,” I try, my voice flinching a bit. I have no intention of introducing him to anyone if I’m not one hundred percent sure that the person will stick around, but I feel like letting a few crumbs of ideas won’t hurt, that maybe it will help prepare him if one day he gets to meet Carter.
“Auntie Nancy?”
“No, another friend, a…new friend.”
“What’s your friend's name?”
I swallow. Should I share his name? As far as I can tell, my four-year-old is completely unbothered right now.
“His name is Carter. He’s a really nice friend.”
“Okay, Mommy.” He shrugs it off.
Phew.
“When you see your friend, you can tell him it’s okay to play with my figurines to thank him for the Skittles.” He nods as I stare at him speechless. My little boy understood that I had a “male” friend, and not only did it not affect him, but he also wants to say thank you back. I couldn’t be prouder.
“That’s really nice of you, honey. I will tell him.” I clear my throat, biting back a smile.
Maybe everything will work out.
Maybe I can be happy again.
“So, how’s your mystery man doing?” whispers Mrs. Hissburg to me while Lydia, a colleague, closes the door after checking on her. I blush, wondering if Lydia heard her. Gossips go fast at the hospital and I wouldn’t want to become the number one topic at coffee break.
“I… Um, good, good,” I stutter.
“Oh, something happened.” Miss Hissburg rubs her palms with a devious smile.
“I really can’t keep anything from you, can I?” I smile and shake my head. “We kissed,” I admit while she claps her hands several times. “Come on, Mrs. Hissburg, someone could hear you.”
“I don’t care, I’m too old to care about what people think. That’s good, Lana, I couldn’t be happier for you,” she tells me, her palm resting tenderly on my elbow.
“I came to ask you if you needed anything else today, I have to welcome a few more patients and I won’t have time to check on you later.” She’s one of my favorite patients and I always try to find time to come and say hi to her whenever I can.
“Oh, that’s lovely of you, Lana. You’re my favorite nurse, you know?” she whispers behind the back of her hand as if someone could hear her. “If you could just give me one more blanket, that’d be perfect,” she asks.
