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Dr. Reynolds pursed his lips.  Well, we ll do the final transfusion at the lab next
door as usual today and I want to schedule a follow-up on Monday in Chicago when
we ll run some final blood work that ought to give us our answers by the end of the
day.
The doctor gave Trace a serious look, the kind you never really wanted to see on the
face of a man who held your life in his hands.  Trace, I want to reemphasize how
123
Fae Sutherland & Chelsea James
important it is that you be prepared, just in case. The treatment has an eighty-five
percent success rate, which is very high and gives us a lot of hope, but you need to
prepare yourself either way. He scribbled on the chart and cast Trace a sidelong
glance.  Have you told your family yet? Loved ones, friends?
A stab of guilt made Trace squirm and he shook his head.  No. No need to worry
them when there might not be anything to worry about after Monday, right? His
parents visit was when he planned to tell everyone, if the treatment didn t work. He
couldn t bring himself to bring everyone down by coming clean about this stupid
sickness when it might go away. He couldn t even pronounce it. Thrombotic
thrombocytopenic purpura. What kind of a name was that, anyway? It was as if doctors
purposely made shit confusing and foreign sounding to scare you even more.
Dr. Reynolds sighed and gave him an admonishing look.  All right, I m not going
to lecture you today because we ve had this discussion. Let s get on with it, then. Go
ahead and make yourself comfortable. I ll send Lucy in to take you next door to the
lab. He rose and gave Trace s shoulder a kind pat.  Just relax, you know the routine by
now.
No worries, it will work. He told himself that as he followed the maze of halls to the
adjoining lab. And when he reclined back on the table in the outpatient room, he closed
his eyes and did what he did every time. Pictured Riley with his sunshine smile.
* * * * *
Riley slipped his CD wallet into his messenger bag and straightened, glancing out
the front doors of the cultural center and ruffling the hair of the young girl who stood
beside him.  Mom s late today, huh, Aimee? Most everyone else had already gone
home but he d volunteered to stay late with the kids whose parents were usually the
last to pick them up, due to schedules. Hopefully Aimee s mother would be there soon.
Riley needed to get home and start dinner.
 Mom s not picking me up today. She has her yoga class. So Daddy s picking me
up instead. He s gonna take me to Grandma s  til Mommy s done, the little girl
announced, twirling a lock of her blonde hair around a finger.  I hate going to
Grandma s. I can t do anything there.
Riley smiled and hunkered down next to Aimee, keeping an eye on the front
parking lot.  I always liked going to my grandma s house when I was your age. She s
got lots of horses and I loved to ride. Maybe that was something he and Trace could do
tomorrow, take a ride out to the swimming hole and spend the day there. Riley would
keep it in mind.
Aimee sighed mournfully and shook her head.  Nope, no horses. Just lots of icky-
smelling flowers and breakable stuff and books. Daddy has a computer there for work
but I m not allowed to touch it. He says I m too young but I m not, I m nine years old
and Mommy lets me use the computer at home. There s Daddy now.
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His Every Breath
Riley glanced up as a car pulled into the lot, looking over his shoulder to signal the
receptionist that he was leaving. He turned back as Aimee pushed the door open and
her father stepped out of the car. Riley s jaw dropped as he got a good look at the man
approaching the building. Of all the people he d hoped never to see again, Sam Franklin
was right at the top of the list.
But here he was, just the way Riley remembered him, if a little older. Their eyes met
as Riley followed Aimee outside, and after a long moment, Sam crossed the distance
between them. Riley bit back a groan and a curse, mindful of their audience, hitching
his bag a little higher on his shoulder. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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