Wes could hardly swallow. Yeah. And I lost my son. He sat beside the little guy and focused on the bookshelf across from them.
Collin rested his head against Wes’s arm. “I wan’ my daddy.”
I want my son.
They sat in silence for a while with Wes combing his fingers through Collin’s slightly damp curls. The smell of baby shampoo was painfully sweet.
“Do you want me to read you a book?” Wes asked, wishing to take Collin’s pain away for at least a short spell. He knew there was no permanent fix for missing someone, though.
Collin sighed. “I wanna pay caws wiff you.”
Wes ruffled his hair one last time and chuckled quietly at how somber the child sounded with his request. “Okay. We can play cars for a little while.”
As they revved motors and crawled around the floor, Wes had to diligently suppress the anguish clawing at the back of his throat. He should have been granted the gift of doing this with his own son. Instead, his baby boy was in a casket with his momma.
After Collin grew bored with the cars, he selected a book off the shelf and handed it to Wes. “Pease?”
Unable to tell the toddler no, he settled back on the floor by the bed and read Collin the story of Jonah and the whale. By the time he’d gotten to the end, where Jonah finally understood that everyone was worth God’s compassion, the sweet smell of baby shampoo was trumped by another odor.
“Poo, I poo-pooed.” Collin looked up and scrunched his tiny nose.
“Buddy, if you’re old enough to tell me what you did, then you’re old enough to be doing that business in the toilet.”
“I wan’ it off me. You change my heinie?” Collin stared at him with all seriousness.
“No sir.” Wes stood and hollered for Sophia.
Not even a minute later they were in the midst of a standoff.
“You’re the one who found it. The rule is that you’re the one to clean it.” Wes saw the amusement twinkling through the starbursts of her vivid blue eyes.
“In all fairness, I’ve never been informed of this rule.” Wes held the little guy by his armpits as far away from him as possible while trying to persuade Sophia into taking him. Each step he took forward, she matched it with one step back. “I admit I found an odor. I’ll spray the air with something. Here.” He pushed the squirming child closer with both Sophia and her mother laughing at him.
“I wan’ it off, Poo. Pease!” Collin whined between them where he was dangling, cracking the adults up.
After Sophia teased Wes several more rounds, she took the stinky toddler off his hands. Wes bid them good night. Even though the odor was a foul one, at least the night ended on a sweeter note than he’d expected.
•••
The office was relatively quiet the following week, and Wes was still struggling to get used to the more lax schedule. Back in the world of hematology and oncology, a quiet day was nonexistent. A day didn’t pass without some adrenaline-infused crisis or cutting-edge discovery.
As Wes flipped through a file on his desk, his eyes slowly drooped. Blinking a few times, he tried to refocus on the page only to have it slip through his fingers as his head nodded once again.
Just as his eyes drifted shut, a knock on the door startled him awake. Clearing his throat, he called out, “Come in.”
His nurse appeared with another old-school paper file in her hand. “We have a small emergency.” Krista gave him a sympathetic look as she handed over the thick file.
Wes didn’t care how small; he was just eager to have a challenge of any sort on his hands. He glanced quickly at the top sheet, noting the number nine on the age line, before rushing into the only occupied exam room. Thinking he was still a little groggy from boredom, Wes squinted at the patient with a fishing hook through her thumb.
Said patient was dressed in a floral shirt, camouflage overalls, and hot-pink ballet flats. She wore a trucker hat backward, and it seemed to be losing the battle of helping hold the long white hair out of the way. Confused yet slightly amused, he glanced again at the file. This time he noticed a zero following the nine.
Giving up on it making any sense, Wes set the file down and edged closer to the woman. “Uh . . . good morning, Miss Dalma.”
“Not really,” Dalma grumbled as she held up her hand.
Wes plucked a pair of gloves from the box and put them on, still baffled as to why she was here, in a pediatric office. This little lady was always with the other hens who continuously popped up with baked goods and gossip, but she was less clucky and only added an off-the-wall anecdote every now and then.
“Did someone bring you here?” Wes asked as he inspected the hook. It was a simple bait hook with a tiny barb, and it had only penetrated the epidermis, so he was fairly confident that it would be easy to remove.
“Oh yes. August Bradford is in the waiting room. Such a sweet boy.”
“Were you two out fishing?”
“No. Not this time. I was looking through my jewelry box for a ring I wanted to give him for Josie, but this hook got me.” She hitched a thin shoulder up, looking as baffled by that declaration as Wes. “Darnedest thing.”
Wes gave her an apologetic smile before saying, “I believe August brought you to the wrong office.”
“No, honey. Doc has been treating me for years. And it’s much more fun here than the other office filled with a bunch of old geezers, wheezing and whining about their arthritis and bunions.”
Wes took a good look at Dalma, finding only lucidity in her cloudy-blue eyes. Biting his cheek to hold in the chuckle, he tore the gloves off. “Can you sit tight for a second?” When she nodded, he moved toward the door. “I’m going to get Nurse Krista to numb your thumb. Then I’ll be back to remove the hook.”
“Numb and thumb rhyme. See? Much more fun. They don’t say anything fun or silly at that old geezer place.” Dalma grinned, swinging her legs, looking the opposite of old.
Wes returned her grin. This was the most silly fun he’d had since the pooping date incident last week. After giving Krista instructions, he had to go share the silliness of the situation with Sophia. He genuinely enjoyed having someone to share moments like these with for the first time in a long time, and she was always eager to listen.
He gave the slightly open door a quick knock before slipping inside.
“Yes?” Sophia asked, finishing up whatever she was typing before looking up. She was smartly dressed in another pantsuit, black with a teal blouse. Her dark hair was pulled neatly into a low bun. No doubt about it, the woman was stunning.
Between the weird episode with Dalma and now openly checking Sophia out, Wes was beginning to think he was still sleeping. Blinking out of the daze, he tried to recall why he’d even gone into her office in the first place. Ninety-year-old patient! “I’m currently treating my very first patient who draws Social Security.”
Sophia’s blue eyes lit up as her smile grew in amusement to match his. “Let me guess. Dalma Burgess.”
“Yep.” Wes chuckled.
“She okay?”
“She will be after I remove the fishing hook from her thumb. I’m waiting for Krista to numb it first.”
Sophia wrinkled her nose. “Ouch. You better take good care of that sweet lady. Oh, and Agnes says Doc always gives her an extra sucker, so don’t forget.” Sophia produced two red, heart-shaped suckers from her drawer and stood up to hand them to him. “These are her favorites.”