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“Please, just tell us straight, doctor,” Nate pleads. “How serious is it?”
I study their faces. No matter how many times I’ve done this, a meeting like this doesn’t come naturally. They both clearly haven’t slept in days, not since Ethan was admitted. They might’ve been physically sick themselves.
“It’s serious,” I finally say.
That’s all I need to say.
There’s no high-strung emotion.
They shake my hand.
There’s just one solitary tear that runs down Vicky’s cheek.
They’ve prepared themselves for bad news. They’re practical people.
I open my office door and let them walk down the hospital hallway to their son’s room.
I think about Ethan, and what he’s going to experience. His life is in my hands now.
It truly is the hardest thing in the world as a doctor, telling parents that their child is very, very sick.
29
AUGUST
I take a sip of the crap hospital coffee as I walk down the dark and empty hospital hallway.
I can hear music coming from one of the rooms.
No one is around. No one should be around.
But the music is very much real. Classical. Tchaikovsky. The main and most famous song from the Swan Lake ballet. My mother’s favorite.
Emma Tucker’s favorite.
I’m transported to spying on the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, blissfully dancing along to the very same music in my family’s movie room, thinking that no one could see her...
Who would be playing that music? Here? Now?
I sidle up to the dark empty room where the music is emanating from. I bet there’s some kind of portable speaker in there. It’s definitely being played inside.
Now I can see who’s playing this damn music.
I slowly and gently open the door so as to not startle the occupant, and I take a peek inside.
Her.
The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
Like a dream or a nightmare, I see Emma Tucker dancing in the middle of the room.
She doesn’t look any older than when I last saw her at Crystal River’s airport. Those mesmerizing, expressive hazel eyes. Long chestnut-brown hair that falls in loose waves as she dances. Captivating, rosy-red lips. Slender yet curvaceous figure. That natural radiance that shines through even a crappy old sterile hospital room.
She hasn’t seen me.
She doesn’t know I’m watching her.
It’s just like it was back in my family’s movie room...
