Blinking, he didn’t stop looking, he just focused. “I’m a little nervous,” he admitted.
The way Lillie’s eyes softened reminded him of the time they’d spent in his bed. She could pretend they were beyond it. But it was still there.
“It’s understandable that you’re nervous,” she said with a little less distance. Taking his hand, she led him far enough away that Abe couldn’t overhear them. And the fact that they didn’t have to go far sent a new wave of near-panic through him.
He could deal with this. With anything. He just didn’t want his son to have to face a world he couldn’t hear.
“Has Abe ever had anesthesia before?” she asked. Jon shook his head. Lillie was still holding his hand. He wondered if she knew.
“He’s a normal healthy little boy and should make it through just fine, but the doctor has to tell you the risks. He’s going to tell you that there could be an allergic reaction to the anesthetic, and if there is, they’re fully prepared to tend to that. There might be breathing difficulties. Again, they’ll be watching and take the necessary action if need be. There could be heart irregularities....”
She dropped his hand. Swallowed. And something came over Jon. He was hit with an instinctive sense of Lillie. Of who she was, what she suffered—of her need. And knew that he and Abe could make a difference in her life.
“His heart is fine, Lil. What happened with Braydon was horrific, and also extremely unusual. Most kids are born perfectly normal, grow up perfectly normal.”
Lillie squared her shoulders and nodded. He felt like an idiot.
“Illie!” Abe called out. “Dada!” Jon’s head swung in his son’s direction. Abe was standing by his truck, staring at the two of them, a frown on his face.
“Abie baby.” Lillie reached him first, scooping him up in her arms and spinning him around before carrying him over to interest him in some other toys: a swimming mask and a book about diving for treasure. She told Abe a story about diving for his own treasure, about the mask he was going to get to wear and about the dreams he’d have.
Abe looked from her to the oxygen mask she held, and she said, “And when you’re all done, you lift your head and I’ll be right there waiting to see what you found!”
“Illie,” Abe said. And then, “Dada.”
“Daddy’s right here, son.” Jon joined them. “Can Daddy dive for treasure with you and Lillie, too?”
Abraham nodded. And Jon wished he was a religious man.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
ABE WAS PREPPED and ready to go diving for treasure. Lillie stayed by his side every step of the way, doing what prep she could on her own. The fewer strangers who touched the boy, the happier he’d be.
But she didn’t kid herself. Ear tubes were common. Almost normal. She was there, touching the boy because it made her feel better. Not because the outcome of Abe’s procedure depended on his calmness. He’d be asleep for the insertion.
Still, the less trauma he suffered, the less chance there’d be of a raised heart rate and body temperature, and thus less chance of heart irregularities. And the less chance of nausea afterward, too.
Abe went to sleep by the count of three. Waiting until the doctor was ready to start the actual procedure, she slipped out and met Jon in the waiting room, inviting him back to her office. It wasn’t regular protocol. While it was her job to support families through their children’s procedures, that generally meant checking in with them, not sitting with them in her office.
As soon as Abe was out of surgery she was going to him, to be there when he woke up and sit with him through recovery, as well.
“Any memories he has of today will be with me by his side,” she told Jon as she unlocked her office door. “The idea is that he won’t have any feelings of being alone or abandoned.”
He looked around as he entered, seeming to pay particular attention to the certificates on the wall behind her desk.
And then to the photo of her and her parents, taken the summer before they were killed.
“We went to Europe,” she told Jon softly. “To Italy. It was the best.”
He nodded, but didn’t ask her any questions. She’d wanted him to.
“The doctor’s going to speak to you after he’s done,” she said. She had a job to do. They weren’t friends anymore. At her behest.
Taking a seat behind her desk, she motioned to the chairs directly in front of it.
He wandered around the room instead, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Jon had strong hands. Reliable hands. Gentle hands.
Did he still get turned on at the sight of hers?