Lay on my back with him nestled on my chest.
His little heart thrumming its life beat against me.
I wrapped my arms around him.
Held him tight.
And for the first time in days, I actually slept.
* * *
“Okay, big man, this is going to be a little cold.” Dad pressed the stethoscope to Everett’s bare chest, kid without a shirt with all his adorable jelly rolls pudging out over the top of his diaper.
I cringed the second the metal hit his breastbone. Struggled to breathe. To slow my pulse that was beating mad.
Was pretty sure I was two seconds from passing right the fuck out.
Dad glanced at me in worry. “It’s okay, man. Just . . . take a seat. Relax.”
Relax.
That was not going to happen.
“I’m good,” I told him.
“Good, huh?”
YUP, I signed.
Dad studied me for a beat before he turned his full attention back to Everett and his eyes dropped closed.
Listening intently.
Everett was grinning, grabbing at the tubing, tugging hard and thinking it was some kind of fun game when he managed to yank out one of the earpieces from Dad’s ear.
“You are a little stink bug, aren’t you?” Dad teased, poking him in the belly.
Chubby legs kicked all over the place, his joy spilling out.
Dad reached over to grab a plastic toy from the desk that was some kind of bug that hung from a short string, its body made of rattles. He dangled the decoy in front of Everett’s face.
“How about this instead? Look how awesome it is . . . a little grasshopper . . . just like you.”
Those full lips of his puckered in a little ‘O’ and his eyes shined with glee.
Dad tapped it to his nose.
Everett threw his head back in a fit of laughter.
“Boink. Got you,” Dad said.
Everett grabbed it from him and held it up like a prize in his little fist. “For Ehvie! Ehvie, please.” Everett nodded this emphatic little nod that left me a puddle on the floor.
How the hell was the kid so damn cute?
“Yours? That’s mine.” Pure affection radiated from my father. His gentle care so clear as he distracted my son from the exam. Made him feel comfortable and safe.
Dad had practiced here at Gingham Lakes Children’s Center since he’d come into mine and Mom’s lives.
A room almost exactly like this one had brought us together.
Our paths crossing.
Colliding.
My dad was probably the best doctor in Gingham Lakes.
Caring.
Intuitive.
Didn’t think there was anyone else in the world I would trust with Everett.
Still, I felt sick.
Legitimately sick.
I hated these fucking rooms.
Hated them with every fiber of my being.
Hated the needles and the fear I could feel creeping across my skin, the memories of the pain I’d suffered through.
Loved them the same.
Because if it weren’t for exam rooms like this, I wouldn’t be here today.
Could feel the squeals of laughter Everett was exuding, could feel the warmth in the murmur of words that Dad spoke to him.
Moments like these were when I really wished I could hear.
Wished that I could hear Dad tell me he was completely fine.
Tell me he didn’t inherit the scourge from the family I didn’t want to be a part of.
The illness that came from my biological father’s side of the family.
My aunt had died from it.
Chances were that someday I would, too.
I almost scoffed at the memory of when the attorney had shown up at my apartment here in Gingham Lakes about a year before I’d left, the knock at the door that had let me know I’d inherited five million dollars.
My estranged grandfather had passed.
Wasn’t like he wanted to take care of me after he was gone. Hell, his son, aka the piece-of-shit who had fathered me, had wanted me dead.
My congenital defects nothing but a blemish on their superior blood line.
What bullshit.
Only reason I was still breathing was because my mom and Kale had been willing to fight the fight. To war and contend.
Refusing to stop until they’d brought the corrupt into the light.
Once my father and grandfather had been exposed, the will had been rewritten.
I hadn’t wanted anything from either of them, but there it was, my bank account now boasting so many zeros I doubted I could spend all of it in my entire life.
Had to admit right then, I was thankful I had that cash. Didn’t matter where it’d come from.
Dad sat back, swiveling around in the low wheeled stool he sat on, his hand still on Everett to make sure he was safe.
“From where I’m sitting, his exam is completely normal.”
Relief hit me hard.
YOU’RE SURE? Couldn’t help but go back to my first language, signing like instinct.
Dad wrapped the stethoscope around his neck. “Going to talk to you man to man, Evan. As a doctor to a parent. All of this is preliminary. Basic. But right now? This second? The only thing I can see is that he is a healthy sixteen-month-old boy. Fiftieth percentile for height and ninetieth for weight. You might need to put him on a diet.”