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When we return to the room, Emersyn steps out while the tech and I get him arranged in the bed. The room is filled with both of our families. The staff usually limits the number of visitors, but because it’s me they are taking that into consideration. Maybe when she’s done treating him, we can figure something out. But realistically I know that isn’t going to happen. I broke one of her major rules.
Emersyn steps back into the room with a nurse and Sawyer, the head of the ER and a doctor I know quite well.
“After a lot of consideration, we’ve come up with a plan,” Sawyer says as he moves to the bed. Emersyn stays back and I look between the two of them.
“Wait.” I stop Sawyer. I know he’s a brilliant doctor, but right now my son needs the best in this field. “I thought Dr. St. James was treating him.” My voice has a roughness to it that must be more so than normal because my family all looks at me. I’m ready to clear everyone out and demand that Emersyn do what she has to, then I’d like to spank her ass for saying red.
“I asked Dr. St. James to consult, and she’s given her suggestions.” Sawyer looks between the two of us, unsure of what’s going on with us.
“Then I’d like to hear them from her.” I cross my arms over my chest and brace my legs apart. I’m not fucking around here. “My son deserves to be treated by the best in the field, just like everyone else. I’ve asked that Dr. St. James stay on his case.”
“Em—” Sawyer starts.
“No.” My voice is a growl. Her son moves toward her, and Lorelei stands to join me along with my oldest, Brooklyn.
“Um, Dr. St. James.” Sawyer tips his head toward her, and I watch her spine straighten. Under her lab coat she’s in black slacks that hug her hips, and I bet her ass looks sexy as fuck in them. She has on a white button top with a gray vest over it that accentuates all her curves and makes her boobs more prominent.
“Thank you, Dr. McKay. I’ll take it from here.” Her voice is firm, lacking the normal sexiness that comes through it. She’s angry. The little brat is going to get many deserved spankings when I get my hands on her again. She takes her beautiful eyes off me and moves to the bed, where she stands with Hayden and Holdyn.
“The MRI showed that you have a grade two tear in your MCL, your medial cruciate ligament. That’s the one that stabilizes your knee side to side. When that kid checked you, he must have been in a crouched position and your knee took the brunt of the impact. Because it’s only a minor tear, I’d like to do some wait and see things instead of rushing you to surgery.” She turns to me. “I’d like to brace him, rest it, do some PT and observation.” When she turns back to the boys, I watch as each takes a hand. She has my boys wrapped around her little finger too. Just like she has me. “You’ll be on crutches for the first week, in a brace that will immobilize your knee in a straight position. I’m going to get you set up to see a physical therapist who is really good.”
“Is she the same one Bas sees?” Hays asks, and I look at her son. Bas doesn’t appear to have any noticeable injuries. She shakes her head as her full lips tip up into a smile.
“No, sweetie. Bas doesn’t see a physical therapist.”
“Of course, he does,” Dyne argues with her.
“No.” She looks at Bas and then back to the boys. “Bas sees a therapist to help him deal with his father’s and my divorce. She’s a different kind of therapist.” She points to Hays. “You’ll see one who works with your knee to make it strong and help it heal.”
“Oh, okay.” Both of my boys nod.
The nurse hands the knee immobilizing brace to Emersyn as Sawyer excuses himself from the room. From my vantage point across from her on the other side of the bed, I can see right down Emersyn’s cleavage when she leans forward to talk directly to Hays. I’m enjoying the view and miss what she says to my son. She looks up and immediately stands straight with a sour look on her face.
“Mom, Bas, please go wait in the lobby,” she orders. Her mom gives her a concerned look before ushering Bas out.
“I guess Brook and I will wait in the lobby too,” Lorelei says.
As soon as the curtain is closed behind Brooklyn, I turn back to Emersyn to ask what I missed. My question dies in my throat as I watch her approach Holdyn and help him pull off his hockey gear. He removes the shorts he was wearing under his pants and hands them to Hayden. She helps Holdyn redress, without the pads, and then stands there.
“Can you help me too?” Hayden asks quietly.
“I got you, buddy.” I move to him.
“No, Dad. I want Emersyn to help me.”
She softens instantly, and I remember seeing a similar look on her face whenever I helped her.
“Sure. But remember around other people you have to call me Dr. St. James. It isn’t fair that you can call me by my name and they can’t.” She smiles at him and then carefully helps him into his brother’s shorts. “How about your dad help me here?” she asks him as she moves to his leg. I know why she’s so good at her job. It’s all about the kids. She talks to them as if they matter. It’s their bodies, after all.
When Hayden nods in agreement, I stand next to Emersyn. I can see the pain is really starting to get to my kid. Together we get him into the brace and it strapped on. I tried not to touch her as we worked. Every time our shoulders brushed, she’d move away. I want to touch her. I want to hold her.
“He needs to be in it at all times until he sees me next Friday. I’ll walk with him to therapy, and afterward we’ll determine how long he’ll be in the brace. You can unstrap it to ice his knee, but don’t let him move it without it on. To shower, wrap a trash bag around it. Keep it as dry as you can. No baths.” She is no-nonsense and clinical with me.
“Okay, buddy.” Her voice softens when she turns to Hays. “You heard what I said. Always in the brace. Use the crutches to walk, not on the bully. Okay? And ice it every few hours.”
She turns back to me.
“I’m going to prescribe Tylenol with codeine for the next couple of days. Give it to him tonight, every six hours. On Monday switch to just ibuprofen.”
