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I take the handset and speak. “Doc Wilson called. The results are in,” I say, my voice trembling. She stays quiet for a moment, and my stomach churns from anticipating the outcome.
“Okay, come to the house right now. We’re going to call him back before we get married.”
“But—”
She interrupts me, “No buts, Brian. I love you. Now Nick and Cole, get him in the car and come home right away. That’s an order.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Cole grins and nods. Amanda hangs up the phone.
Alisha slaps her hands together excitedly. “Well, what are you waiting for? The bride has spoken! Let’s move it. Come on, Brian, let’s go!”
Locked in an internal conflict, I make my way to the car. As we drive to the destination, I’m torn between the hope of a positive outcome and the fear of the worst. One second hope is surging, but the next, doubt creeps in and erases these feelings with appalling visions of what could be. As we stop in front of the house and I get out of the car, I’m drowning in a sea of uncertainty. Amanda stands in the doorway wearing a white robe, her gaze locked on me as I approach. I try to smile, but my lips can’t quite manage it. When I arrive in front of her, she pulls me into her embrace, the warm scent of her calming my racing thoughts.
“Take a deep breath,” she whispers. “I’m here. We’re doing this together. We’ve been waiting for this moment.”
We break apart when a loud wail catches my attention. Martha strides our way, cradling a crying Chase.
“He misses his dad.” She smiles and hands him to me. “You two need each other right now.”
I take him and rock him back and forth, speaking softly. “Hey, bud. What’s wrong? Daddy’s here now.”
His cries settle to a soft whimper when I kiss his forehead. As my voice calms him, his unique baby scent soothes my raging nerves, and I pray to the entire universe.
Please, let him be okay.
“I cleared the living room for you,” Martha says.
“Thanks, Mom,” Amanda responds appreciatively.
“Okay, let’s go,” Martha says, motioning for the others to follow her. “Grab some coffee and cake with me, everyone.”
The others vanish into the other room while Amanda and I walk to the living room. We take a seat on the couch as she softly caresses my cheek with her hand.
“Do you want me to take Chase while you make the call?” I nod and after passing my son off to his mom, I dial the number and put it on speakerphone.
To my amazement, Doc answers right away. “Good morning, Brian. I was awaiting your call.”
Amanda takes my hand.
“Did you get the results?” I utter in an anxious voice.
“Yes, I got them this morning. Normally, I’d make you come to my office, but in this case, I’m making an exception.”
My heart trembles inside my chest as I ask the question that has weighed on me for months.
“Does he have Brugada, Doc?” I look at my son, whose eyes are wandering around.
“The test was negative, Brian.”
Amanda gasps as my lungs shrink to the size of peas and my heart shrieks in sadness. I stand up and close my eyes as tears sting them.
“Shit. I knew it was too hopeful.”
“Listen to me, Brian,” Doc speaks louder. “A negative result means they couldn’t find any signs of Brugada Syndrome in his genes.”
My mind tries to comprehend the words, but it cannot, so I seek an explanation while staring at the phone. “What?”
“Chase doesn’t have the gene you and your father have. Your son is healthy, Brian.”
