I slide my hands up and unlatch the clip holding her hair on top of her head. My fingers work through her thick waves until they gently massage her scalp. This is one of many soothing motions I’ve discovered helps to calm her in the rare times she allows herself to break down.
“Get it out, Bizzy. Give it to me. I’m not letting go,” I say softly into the top of her head.
She tightens her arms around my waist and cries harder. Each tremor and shake pierces my heart. Usually, the sound of my voice eases her, but today, it seems to do the opposite. Instead of calming, she wails deeper.
The sound resembles an injured animal, begging for relief. There’s only twice in my life she’s shown this level of pain and vulnerability, and it hits me in the gut. She’s losing a patient.
“Sweetie, how old?”
“Fourteen.”
Each tear she sheds is absorbed straight into my skin, branding me with her ache. With one hand still massaging her head, I move the other to her back.
Finally, her breath grows shallow and she loosens her hold. “I’m sorry, Shaw. I tried to go home, but my car brought me here. I think I was on auto-pilot when I left the hospital.”
“Tell me.” I walk us back to the sofa and maneuver so she’s in my lap. It’s an intimate gesture, but she needs me right now, and I’ll do anything to lessen the burden she carries. When she looks up, fear and sadness cloud her beautiful face. Even bloodshot and full of tears, her eyes are mesmerizing.
“The treatments aren’t working. His family would like to try some alternative medicines, but we all know it’s only a matter of time. Evie suggested bringing a Hospice team to keep him comfortable. It looks like the cancer won.”
“Jesus.” I pull her back to me and kiss her forehead lightly. “Honey, I think it’s time you ask for a transfer. Pediatric Oncology is killing you. It’s too close to the heart, especially with your history.
“No, Shaw. Being with these kids is where I belong. I love my job.”
This is an argument we’ve had frequently, one no one wins. Even Bizzy’s parents begged her to reconsider Pediatric Oncology when she applied for the position. We all encouraged her to stay in MedSurg, but she refused.
“I know, but it hurts to see you so affected.”
“There’s more,” she whispers so softly, I almost miss it.
“It’s Nicky. This young boy, Grady, looks so much like Nicky. That’s why I’m hanging by a thread. When we told his parents, all I could see were Seth and Maria’s faces.”
My breath disappears, thinking of my parents for all those months. It was brutal to watch them so helpless while Nick fought his battle.
“Bizzy…”
“I’ve gotten stronger, promise. Nurse Evie helps me every day. Her strength is my guiding light, but today, something broke. That’s why I’m here. I couldn’t go to Nicky.”
Her statement doesn’t offend me at all. She typically doesn’t go to anyone but me when something happens at work. Usually, Mathis will find out because he’s doing his residency at the same hospital.
“No need to explain. I’ll always have time for my girl. You know this.”
She gives me a weak grin and face plants back into my chest. “I owe you another shirt. This one is now soaked in snot and tears.”
“That’s why I keep a selection of clean ones here,” I try to joke.
“Gross. I’m gross.” She giggles through a hiccup.
“You’re beautiful.” I lift her chin, forcing her to look at me. “Always beautiful.”
She blushes every time I tell her this, which makes it even more true. If possible, I’d take every ounce of hurt from her life.
“Why don’t you let me take you home? I’ll grab us something to eat, and we’ll chill tonight.”
“I can’t. Claire and I are going to Grady’s house to help them get settled and bring him some things.”
“Like what?”
“I guess all my Nick Bennett memorabilia. He knows we’re friends and was really bummed when he missed Nicky’s last visit to the hospital. So I’m taking them. I’d ask Nicky to visit, but it’s too raw. The resemblance is too strong. Young boy, two brothers, football player, cute and goofy, yet so kind and sweet… He’s almost an exact doppelganger.”