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“I’m not sure. I might have noticed it a week or two ago? It was only after she rubbed it, and not often, so I just thought it was an infection or something.”
“Has she been sick? Vomiting at all, or complaining about headaches?”
He nodded. “She just got over the flu last week. Dr. Davenport, what is it? We only came in for her shots.”
“I’m not sure, and I don’t want to make you panic before I know anything concrete. We will do a full workup, and the second I know for sure what’s going on with her, I will let you know. And I’ll make sure to rush it—no kid should spend their birthday surrounded by doctors.” I tried to smile for his sake.
“Dr. Davenport, we’re done,” said one of my interns.
Dr…oh whatever, like I was going to remember who the intern was. I just knew him as Four Eyes; the glasses he wore made his eyes look almost cartoonish. “They’re done, all right?” I said, walking to where the child waited. “Molly, did it hurt? Point at which one has to go back to school.”
She shook her head so hard her bow almost fell off. “Nope, it didn’t hurt. They gave me candy.”
I glanced up at the three doctors who had to bribe a child while taking blood.
They all turned away from me.
“Well, make sure to get more from them; they are going to take you to get your pictures taken,” I said, more to them than to her.
“Pictures, then we leave, Daddy? You promised we could go to the aquarium. I wanna see where Ariel lives!” She pointed to her shirt.
“Pictures, then we leave.” He laughed, kneeling in front of her.
“Get a full scan for me. If there is a line, tell them Dr. Davenport sent you,” I whispered to my interns at the door.
“What if that doesn’t do anything?” the intern with a bun on the top of her head said, which got her an elbow from both the tall and skinny Dr. Stretch, as I liked to call him, and Dr. Four Eyes.
“If it doesn’t do anything, then you’re off my service and in the pit for not thinking of another option,” I replied, stepping out toward the nurses’ station in the middle of the pale blue and beige hall. Sighing, I dropped my tablet on the counter.
“Was I right?” Dr. Handler, Molly’s pediatrician, asked as she came to stand beside me. Her eyes focused on Molly through the panels of the window.
When I didn’t respond, I saw her turn to face me, swinging her dark brown curls, cropped right under her chin. Dr. Handler had been at the hospital for more than twenty years. She was one of the best pediatricians, if not the best, we had. She had known the answer before paging me down there.
“Dr. Davenport—”
“I won’t know the extent of it until I see her scans, but yes, she has a brain tumor. I don’t know what stage yet, but she had trouble following both my finger and the light, not to mention her twitching.” She had just turned seven. Sometimes I really hated my job.
“Her mother died last year, Eli. She was six months pregnant. Please, for me, do everything you can for her, all right? She's been a patient of mine since she was three months old.”
We weren’t supposed to get attached for exactly this reason. I could feel her putting the hope of God on my shoulders. She knew better, and so did I.
“We’ll start tomorrow. Let her at least have her birthday,” I muttered, walking toward the elevators.
Just as the doors opened, I heard a laugh…her laugh, to the right of me. There, walking down the stairs, her blonde ponytail swinging back and forth, was Hannah…my Hannah. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as her head turned toward me.
I ran into the elevator, pressing the close button as fast as possible.
Why was she here? Why the hell was she still here?
The only person who could answer that was on the very top floor. With each level I went up, I could feel my blood pressure rising. My fingertips twitched, my vision became tunneled, even the box I was in felt like it was closing in on me.
“Take the next one!” I yelled when the doors opened. I pressed the close button again, shutting out the group of doctors trying to go up as well.
I couldn’t deal with them right now. It felt like forever until I finally reached her floor and the offices above. Marching across the carpeted floors, I walked toward the wooden doors.
“Dr. Davenport, she’s on a conference —”
I didn’t pay any attention to her secretary, letting myself into her office. “Why is she here?” I snapped so loudly she jumped slightly in her chair, the phone almost slipping out of her hands.
