Page 34 of Endurance
I look toward the window, needing to mentally pull myself away from Tanner before I can continue. I’m instantly transported back to that night. That cold, dark night when life slapped me right in my naïve face. Back when my biggest issue was dealing with my parents moaning at me for not going to law school like they wanted.
I saw the baby roll into the hospital, so small on that adult-sized stretcher. Her hands limp. Her face slack. All I could think about was the mother picking her up at home and trying to awaken her. I didn’t even know what was wrong with her at that point, but I could tell by looking at her that she was dead. The familiar knot forms in my throat and I hurt inside all over again.
I look at Tanner. “I was so distraught when I saw her that I ended up sick in the toilet. It was like my body was trying to projectile vomit the pain out of me. I hated the feeling that little baby gave me. I was powerless, you know? That baby was so small and helpless, and I went to school and trained and studied and tried to make myself into the best doctor I could be. But in that moment, none of it mattered. I was completely ill-equipped.”
“Christ, Belle.” Tanner shakes his head, his face marred with a mixture of sympathy and horror.
I talk through the pain, though. “I couldn’t believe that life could be so cruel. The baby was only four months old. She still had a soft spot on her head.”
My fingers twitch at the memory of touching her in the exam room after the parents had been ushered away by the grief counsellor. I had to feel her. I had to know she was real. That it wasn’t some horrid nightmare. I’d touched tons of cadavers in all of my various surgical trainings.
But no babies.
I look over at Tanner and his head is dropped. I instantly wish I hadn’t unloaded all of that on him. “Sorry.”
He shakes his head, his eyes rimmed red when they meet mine. I don’t see the sadness I thought I would, though. I see…awe. His voice is thick when he says, “Don’t be sorry.”
I swallow, nervously shaking my head. “I took Deep Talk too deep I think. Must be the beer.” I reach out and grab my bottle up off the coffee table.
“I wanted to know.” He clears his throat loudly and looks at me with a furrow to his brow. “So that is how you chose your specialty.”
“Pretty much. I thought I wanted paediatrics, but then seeing what Dr. Miller does, how she saves a baby when it’s still inside of its mother…It feels almost as if you’re taking an angel from heaven and demanding that God give them their own life first.”
He smiles and gets a sort of glint in his eyes. Is it admiration?
“So what are you? Their immortal legal representation?”
I laugh at the notion and think it’s an ironic choice of words considering what my family does for a living. “I’ll leave the lawyering to my family.” Then a dark thought crosses my mind. “I’d call myself something more like the devil’s advocate.”
I can feel his quizzical frown on me. “That seems like an odd choice of words when you just referred to them as angels.”
My eyes sting as a flash of my childhood hits me out of nowhere. I was eleven years old and in a dazzling party dress. My mother and father welcomed people at the door of our home, one by one. There were loads of smiles, gushing conversations, and incredible food and drinks. Everything was glamorous and exciting to a young girl, but my spirit was low…because I had a word count. A specific number of words I could utter before I had to go to bed. Eleven, same as my age. As soon as I hit eleven words, I had to excuse myself and go to my room for the rest of the evening.
I look at Tanner, who’s still eyeing me with curiosity, awaiting my reply. “In my family, children were supposed to be seen, not heard. So perhaps when I say devil’s advocate, it’s a bit of my upbringing leaking out.” The sympathetic expression on Tanner’s face pains me, so I quickly stammer, “It’s not how I see children, though. Not at all. Doing this kind of work gives those voiceless tiny babes a way to be heard. I’m proud of that.” I exhale a shaky breath, feeling like I’ve launched into complete verbal diarrhea and it needs to stop right the hell now. “You know, I’ve never spoken this deeply about any of this before, not even with Indie. Tanner Harris Deep Talk is pungent.”
I look up at him with a forced smile and am mortified when a stray tear slips down my face. I didn’t even feel it coming. But what surprises me more is the tenderness that washes over Tanner’s face.
He reaches toward me and drags his knuckle along my cheek. “Stings the eyes.” He winks and offers me a kind smile.
This is too much. Too intimate. Too much sharing. Time to get back to business.
“So,” I bark out loudly, doing my best to shatter the moment. “You think your brothers would be willing to come to the event with their deep pockets?”
He huffs. “I think I can manage.”
SPENDING THE NEXT FEW DAYSalone in my flat makes me want to climb the walls. I work out in our home gym more than I should, fatiguing my muscles until I can barely sit up to grab the remote for the telly. I run around the neighbourhood, passing by a vacant Tower Park as my team is off playing somewhere else.Without me.I ache to be back in the stadium and on the pitch working out with my team instead of running out here like a lone wolf. Regardless, this is what I have to do. I may be suspended from the team but I refuse to let myself fall behind because of it. And when the time comes, I know my dad will make sure I earn my spot back on the pitch.
I was, however, allowed a brief visit inside the hallowed walls of Tower Park to talk to the stadium staffing manager and secure Sedgwick a job picking up garbage in the stands after matches. It’s not what I wanted for him, but it was all they had available. When I told him the news, he did what he’s been doing since the second I stepped on him in that phone box. He surprised me.
Sedgwick immediately sits down on the hotel bed, blinking and absorbing what I’ve just told him. He props his elbows on his knees and holds his head in his hands for several long, nerve-wracking minutes.
“I know it’s not ideal, Sedg, but they say the best way to find a job is to have a job,” I stammer. “And well, this is a job. I know you don’t care for football, but the pay isn’t bad. There’s a hostel nearby you can stay at until you get some money saved. Though, I’d really appreciate it if you’d let me pay a deposit on a flat for you. It’s something I really want to do.”
My words are stopped short by a garbled cry. “I don’t deserve this.”
“It’s an honest job. Of course you deserve it.”
“But there are so many others out there…” His voice trails off as he looks out the window.
