Molly looks to me for an answer, her expression a mixture of anxiety and fear. As much as I want to demand he tell us, this is Molly’s decision. It’s going to be extremely hard not knowing, but I’d rather avoid a needless worry if she doesn’t have this mysterious disease. Besides, Dr. Becker said her chances are almost non-existent, so I’ll take that as a good sign.
“It’s up to you, baby,” I tell her. I hate leaving it up to her to make this hard choice, but I won’t make it for her unless she really wants me to.
She glances down at her hands, indecision tightening her features. I want to go to her, scoop her into my arms, and take her away from this place. I’ve always protected Molly as much as I could from all the bad life has to offer, but I know I can’t right now, and it’s killing me.
“I want to know,” she says slowly, lifting her eyes to Dr. Becker. “But I’m going to say don’t tell us. We’re already worrying enough. We don’t need to add more to it if we don’t need to. We’ll wait until we know for sure.”
Dr. Becker nods, relief sweeping across his face. “Good choice.”
“So, what do we need to do to rule out whatever it is?”
“I’d like to do a spinal tap, along with a genetics test.”
The paper crinkles beneath Molly as she shifts around on the bed. She clears her throat. “Speaking of genetics, I found out a few days ago that my mom’s parents weren’t her biological parents. Apparently, she was adopted when she was a day old. She never mentioned it because there’s never been any cause for her to talk about it.”
To say that news was a surprise when she told me after her phone call with her mom, is putting it mildly. Especially since Nancy looks so much like her parents.
Dr. Becker slips his glasses back on and spins to his laptop. “Has she been in contact with her birth parents? Is there a way to get their medical history?”
“Unfortunately, not. It was a closed adoption.”
He nods and taps at his computer. “It’s no longer an issue. The genetic testing will show any issues we need to be concerned with.”
“Okay.” Molly releases a long breath. “How long before we get the results from everything?”
“I should get the PET scan, blood work, and spinal tap results within a couple of days. The genetic testing will take a bit longer. A couple of weeks. Unless I need you to come in sooner, I’ll have Lena call you with an appointment as soon as the genetic test results come in.” He gets up from the stool and grabs his laptop. “I know the next couple of weeks are going to be stressful, but try not to worry too much. Whatever this thing is, we’ll get you through it.” He glances at me. “And you’ve got a good support system. Use it.”
“I will.”
I stand from my chair as Molly slides from the bed. As soon as her feet touch the floor, she stumbles forward. Dr. Becker and I reach for her at the same time.
“Whoa,” she says sluggishly, gripping my arm.
With my heart thumping wildly against my sternum, I guide her down into the chair I was using. Dr. Becker sets his laptop down on the bed, snags his stool, and rolls it right in front of Molly before taking a seat. I squat down beside her. Although her complexion looks fine, this reminds me of when she fell when we had dinner at her parents’ place.
“What just happened there, Molly?” Dr. Becker asks.
“I got a bit of double vision for a moment,” she answers.
He tugs the stethoscope from around his neck and checks her vitals, his brows pulled down in concentration. He slips the instrument back around his neck a moment later.
“Your heart sounds fine. How many times has that happened?”
“Only a couple.”
“How long does the double vision last?” He grabs her wrist, using two fingers to take her pulse, and looks at his watch.
“A few seconds.”
“And how do you feel afterward?”
“It goes away pretty fast. I’m fine within a couple minutes of it happening.”
“Are you in a one-story or multi-story home?”
“One.”
He releases her wrist. It’s not until the worry lines on his face smooth out that I take a breath.
“That’s good. But even so, take care going up and down stairs. You don’t want this to happen and take a tumble.”
I help Molly up from the chair, watching her closely for any signs of dizziness or weakness. She stands strong, but I’m still terrified to let her go.
How in the hell am I going to make it through until we fix whatever’s ailing her? It’s a selfish thought. I’m not the one who’s losing track of their body and mind.
We stay in the room for a few more minutes. Dr. Becker asks Molly to go over all of her symptoms again. Everything’s listed in her chart, so I know he’s using it as an excuse to see if she’s all right on her feet. I’m grateful for the foresight.
A few more minutes pass and we’re in the car, heading to Molly’s parents’ house to grab the kids. I glance at her in the passenger seat and find her gaze directed out the windshield. I grab her hand and bring her open palm to my lips.
“You know it’s going to be okay, right?” I ask. “We’re going to get through whatever this is. Just like we do everything else.”
“I know.”
She looks at me, and although she offers a smile, I can still see the worry in her eyes. As much as I try to hide it, I know mine reflect the same. I’m scared shitless of what she’s about to possibly face. I only hope and pray with everything in me that it’s something we can handle.
“I’m going to start taking my birth control pills again,” she remarks, sadness dripping in her tone.
Her words gut me. I know how excited she was about having another baby. I was looking forward to it too. But Dr. Becker advised us against it. Molly and I both agreed it was for the best. We need to find out what’s going on first. There’s no telling if it will affect a baby or make whatever we’re dealing with worse for Molly.
“Hey,” I tell her and wait for her to look at me. “This doesn’t mean we can’t try after we get you better. We’re just pushing the timeframe back a bit.”
“Yeah.”
I hate the despondent cantor of her voice. I wish I could take away her worry and put it solely on my shoulders. To force whatever’s ravaging her body into mine.
This woman and our two children are my entire world. My only purpose in life is to make sure they’re happy and safe. For me to not be able to make her better eats a hole through my heart and leaves me feeling helpless.
We spend the rest of the trip in silence. As soon as we pull into Douglas and Nancy’s driveway, the front door is thrown open, and Gemma and Gray walk onto the porch. Gemma waits for us to shut the car off before she’s dashing down the steps, skidding to a stop in front of her mother.
“Guess what, Momma?” she asks, out of breath. She doesn’t wait for Molly to answer before hurriedly continuing. “Gamma said when they get back from their cruise, they’re going to get a new puppy so Thor has another dog to play with. She said I could come over and help take care of it.”
Molly smiles down at our daughter, the stress from moments ago fading from her face. If there’s one thing that could lighten her mood, it’s our children.