Sebastian continued to visit her in her dreams. Sebastian, lying beside her in the grass, propped up on an elbow, looking down at her. Sebastian, kissing her knuckles.
Occasionally, she indulged herself by driving by his house. Once, she spotted an empty plastic water bottle snagged in a cluster of bushes out front. Since his house was dim and obviously empty—and because she now comprehended that he valued a tidy lawn—she’d darted from her car and confiscated the bottle.
However, she had not had an opportunity to see him or talk to him for more than a month.
Until, that is, she traveled to Atlanta with Dylan to tour two colleges and visit one particular hospital.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It required an act of God and a generous portion of histrionics, but Leah managed to pry Dylan from his bedroom at their Airbnb and convey the two of them to Beckett Memorial Hospital ahead of their prearranged meeting with Sebastian. An assistant ushered them to Sebastian’s office and informed them that he would join them shortly.
Thus, on the first Monday of September, a day she had off work for Labor Day, Leah was given an unexpected chance to scrutinize Sebastian’s office without him present. The space boasted one large window. Two high-quality leather chairs. An office chair. And a desk, on which four items rested: a lamp, thick white notepad, Montblanc pen, computer.
A yard-wide strip of corkboard ran vertically from the floor to the ceiling of the wall next to his desk. Photos and cards had been pinned to it. Leah stood before the collage, enthralled, reading fast because she was afraid he’d arrive before she had a chance to ingest it all.
The pictures highlighted smiling infant faces. The parents who’d written the cards clearly believed that Sebastian’s efforts had saved the lives of their babies.
As much as she loved math, ultimately, math was theory. Sebastian’s job impacted living, breathing children and families.
Ever since she’d reached out to Sebastian a week and a half ago to schedule this appointment, she’d been looking forward to this the way she looked forward to her beloved budget road trips. So far, it did not disappoint. And Sebastian hadn’t even appeared.
Dylan was far less enthused. He’d wanted to spend this holiday sleeping late, shirking homework, working on his drawings, and hanging out with his friends. He was currently slumped in one of the chairs, scrolling sullenly through his apps. His interest in pursuing a career in the field of healthcare hovered at a negative ten.
She’d spent the weekend putting Dylan first. Touring potential schools. Allowing him to choose where they ate. Helping him with his college applications. She’d pitched this hospital visit as something she’d sought out for his sake, but that was an outright lie.
This was the one thing on their itinerary that she’d arranged purely for herself. She wanted another chance to see Sebastian.
It felt divine to be here simply because she wanted to be—
The door swept open. She hadn’t seen Sebastian in weeks, and now, suddenly, here he was. Tall and broad. He wore a white T-shirt with green scrubs and retro-looking black-on-black Adidas. She met his eyes, then watched his vision flick down to her chin before tracing its way back up. As usual, his demeanor communicated observant intensity.
The awareness that existed between them rushed to life.
Distantly she thought, I haven’t finished reading everything on the corkboard. Which means I’ll have to come back one day. That’s the only tenable solution. Also, am I imagining the electricity between us? I can’t be so out of touch with reality that I’m the only one feeling this, can I?
“Hello,” she said.
“Hi.”
“Thanks for making time in your schedule for us.”
“Of course. I’m sorry that I kept you waiting. One of my colleagues asked for a consult on a case.”
“No problem. We’re not in a hurry.”
His attention slanted toward Dylan.
“Do you remember my brother, Dylan?” she asked.
“I do.”
She shot her sibling a don’t-forget-my-warning smile. She’d deemed it necessary to threaten him with a fate worse than death (the removal of his phone) if he didn’t exhibit politeness on this tour.
Dylan rose, his stoop-shouldered posture appalling, and shook Sebastian’s hand.
“Your sister tells me that she’s been introducing you to several different career fields.”
“Um, yeah.”
“Anything catch your interest so far?”
Dylan scratched his temple. “Just art.”
Behind Sebastian’s back Leah tilted her head in a way that said, Ask Sebastian questions.
“So.” Dylan pushed his hands into the pockets of his artfully ripped jeans. “You went to Misty River High School, too?”
“I did.”
“And what job do you have now?”
“I’m a pediatric cardiac surgeon.”
“And what . . . uh . . . what did you have to do after you graduated high school to get this job?”
Sebastian explained his schooling and training.
A wince pinched Dylan’s face more and more as Sebastian spoke. “So. Uh. I guess you’re not grossed out by the sight of blood?”
After all that Sebastian had said, that was the best question Dylan could muster?
Amusement creased Sebastian’s face. “Nope, I’m not grossed out by it. Are you?”
“Yeah. For sure.”
“In that case, we’ll avoid the sight of blood on this tour.”
“’Kay.”
They exited his office. Leah fell in step beside Sebastian, Dylan behind them.
“How’ve you been?” he asked.
“I’ve been well, thank you. Busy, adjusting to my new classes.”
“Have your students been treating you with the awe and respect you deserve?”
“Awe and respect are in short supply with teenagers.”
“They’re in short supply with non-verbal infants as well.”
“Kids these days.”
He was spending more time looking across at her than he was looking forward. His almost-black hair was in mild disarray. Tiredness edged his features, causing her to wonder what might have cost him sleep last night. An emergency here? A date with a new girlfriend?
He asked her questions about her students. She asked him questions about his surgeries.
They sailed through a set of automatic doors.
He showed them the areas of the surgical floor they were allowed to see and explained several different jobs to Dylan. Dylan feigned interest but his body language communicated that he cared about as much as he would about the hospital’s bylaws. Conversely, Leah—always hungry for deeper understanding of a topic—soaked in every word.
When Sebastian finished, Dylan responded with the sparkling verbal parry of “Huh.”
They visited the room where the doctors met each morning to view X-rays before rounds. Then they moved on to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit.
“Do Dylan and I need a pass in order to enter?” she asked.
“Not if you’re with me. I gave one of the administrators a heads-up that you were coming.”
The PICU felt like a high-tech spaceship on red alert. A central desk served as the command center.
Again, Sebastian paused and talked through the many roles the PICU employees filled. “Do any of these jobs sound like something you’d want to do?” he asked Dylan.