H is for Hawk (Men of ALPHAbet Mountain)

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just… I didn’t know what to do. I trust you.”

“Hawk,” I said, then groaned.

I didn’t want to use that name, and now I’d done it twice. My desire to be petty and distant had evaporated with the pleading in his voice. He’d never sounded like that, at least around me, before. He was always so confident and strong, albeit quiet.

“Dee, please,” he said.

A knock on the door made me almost jump, and I realized we were out of time. The rest of the thousand things that hung in the air were going to have to wait for another time. For now, I needed to make a decision. I needed to help him or let him flail. I stared into his eyes and felt the tug of years past and the pain that they caused. The nights I spent crying over him. The days I spent cursing myself for even thinking his name.

I nodded.

“Just, tell Dr. Davis what you told me, and let me try to help you,” I said. “I’ll do what I can. Okay?”

“Alright,” he said. “I trust you.”

13

HAWK

Seeing Dee brought up a string of emotions I wasn’t completely prepared for. The thoughts about her and our history were bubbling up in my mind at the same time as the fear of what was happening with Rose and the relief of having a familiar face that I could talk to about it. As much as I wanted to notice her, to think about her in the way I used to, I was far more concerned with what was going on with Rose and the fact that I needed her help.

The first nurse had been very nice and seemed to understand that I was in a state of panic. She didn’t hassle me, which I appreciated, and had gotten Dee to me. But I was still worried that she had seen something, some tell, that she went and called the police about. Or maybe she had a direct line to CPS or something. I didn’t know. All I knew was that seeing Dee relieved a little pressure.

Dee might not like me. She might even hate me. But she would know how much family meant to me and how important keeping Rose would be to me. If I could just explain myself fast enough.

A knock on the door startled me, and I looked back to Dee. Either the sound of the knock or my slight jump seemed to wake up Rose too, and she started again with the wailing. I tried comforting her as the doctor came in, but it was no use. Rose was determined to let the entire world know just how upset she was. She had a hell of a set of lungs in her, if nothing else.

“Oh, hello,” a woman that I assumed was the pediatrician said as she walked in and saw Dee. “Deana, how are you?”

“I’m good, Dr. Davis,” she said. “How about you?”

“Good, good. Mr. Blackthorne? I’m Dr. Mina Davis. What brings you in today?” she asked.

She was a younger woman than I expected, no older than her early thirties. She was wearing a mask over her nose and mouth, but I got the impression she was a very pretty lady. Black hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and her dark eyebrows were raised, showing off big brown eyes that brimmed with empathy and intelligence. She just had the look of someone who knew about what was ailing you and how to fix it.

It was interesting how much of a calming effect a person like that could have on a situation like mine. As soon as she walked in the door, I relaxed. I still only really trusted Dee, but this woman was already as close as anyone else could be, and I’d known her all of five seconds. There was just something in her demeanor that said she was the type of person who would do anything to help a patient.

“Hi,” I said over the sound of Rose’s cries. “This is Rose, and as you can hear, she is really upset.”

“I do hear that. What a voice we have, don’t we?” she said toward the baby, her voice rising in the pitch that people often do when talking to babies. “Well, just bring her over here if you could. Let me take a look at her up close.”

I brought Rose over and laid her back in the crib, half expecting to turn around and see that Dee had run off. Instead, she stepped right up beside the doctor and pulled down a tiny blood pressure monitor, slipping it over Rose’s fragile baby arm. Dr. Davis looked curiously back and forth between Dee and me but didn’t pry. I wondered what she thought was going on. Dee clearly didn’t belong on the pediatric floor, but she had jumped in to help out and was clearly staying to hear what the doctor had to say.