13. Scarlett
13
SCARLETT
E than strained with all his might to roll the large snowball closer to where I stood. With the heavens dumping a good foot of snow over all of Dakota County, schools and businesses had been shut down. We knew around midnight there would be no school thanks to our One Call Now system, and I'd sent Nellie a message saying I wouldn't be in. Tina from upstairs was away on a trip for her band to someplace tropical so I had no one to watch Ethan.
"It's too hard," Ethan whined, stopping to take a breather. The new medication Nick had put him on last month seemed to be working so far, though my fears and worries still lingered. Ethan dug at his chest through his coat and the multiple layers of clothing he wore. "And this is itchy. I hate it."
"Come on, buddy. Push it here and I'll lift it up." Our decrepit snowman would only have sticks for arms and rocks as eyes and a smile, but I was determined to make memories with him. I loved snow days when I was a child. Dad would get some of his old clothing—a pair of boots, some jeans, and a button-up flannel—and we'd fill them up to the brim and make an upside-down snowman.
Though, I'd never been sick like Ethan, and the Holter monitor he was now wearing for a second time was annoying him in a way I'd never had to live through. The first round of testing didn't show anything. He hadn't had any episodes, and while that was a good thing, it didn't show Nick or his colleagues any helpful information. And with insurance refusing to cover his genetic testing—and it being too expensive for me to pay for on my own—the only thing we could do was attempt different treatments.
"I'm too tired," he whined, and he turned his back and slumped to the ground, leaning backward against the snowball.
I chuckled at his dramatic flair and joined him, but we quickly found ourselves lying on top of the snowpack making snow angels, which brought his smile back. He giggled and I rolled over and tickled him a little, which only made him roll with laughter.
I was pushing him, and I felt like a bad parent for doing so. But his medical bills were mounting now and we needed this round of monitoring to produce a result. Nick suggested that getting Ethan a little more active might induce some of his symptoms, which if nothing else would help them pinpoint more directly what was actually going wrong. If we couldn't get the DNA testing done, this was a good option.
But when Ethan started wheezing a little and pressing his hand to his chest, I couldn't do it anymore. Guilt pounded away at my conscience, and I had to back off and help him calm down.
"You okay, bud?" I pulled on his hand and forced him into a sitting position and he shrugged his shoulders.
"It hurts right here a little…" He frowned and tore his hat off his head, which was soaked in sweat. "Is this why I have to wear all these wires?"
My heart went out to him. No little boy his age should have to miss opportunities or skip out on events just because their body wasn't normal. I wanted my son to be healthy and playful like any other kid his age. It physically hurt my heart to watch him suffer.
"Alright, well we should go home." I sighed. "I'm sorry you don't like the monitor, Ethan. It's going to help Dr. Edwards treat you so you can feel better." I pulled him onto my lap and he rested his head on my shoulder.
"I don't want to wear the wires anymore. I just want to do wrestling, basketball, and baseball…They have sign-ups for baseball at school. I want to do it." My heart squeezed as he said that and I almost started crying. This wasn't fair—life wasn't fair.
"I know, bud. We'll work with Dr. Edwards and hopefully he can get you to a point where you can do baseball. But I'm not making any promises." I stood and set him down on the snow. Then I took his hand and we started walking toward the car, leaving our sad, half-constructed snowman to be destroyed by other kids at the park.
"You can just call him Nick, you know." Ethan's head hung and I sensed a tinge of sadness in his tone.
"You don't like calling him Dr. Edwards?" I wanted to know how he really felt. My primary duty was to raise Ethan. If he didn't like Nick around, I had a horrible choice to make. It also didn't bode well for the future when the truth actually came out, intentionally as I planned, or inadvertently by gossip. Ethan would learn Nick was his father and what would he think then?
"No, I just mean. You're kissing him and stuff…so you can just say Nick."
I snickered and blushed at his comment.
"Alright…when did you see us kissing?"
We laughed and bantered about the time Ethan snuck into the living room and watched Nick and I cuddling on the couch watching shows when we thought he was sleeping. I was never more thankful that I had a closed-door policy for actual sex. I'd never take that risk and this was exactly why.
When we got into the car and I started driving, Ethan nodded off. I'd really worn him out and I prayed the monitor picked up something this time so Ethan could take it off and never have to wear it again. Now in late February I knew he'd miss out on all of his spring and summer sports if we didn't get to the bottom of things.
On the way home I decided to stop by the bakery to see how Nellie was doing. I couldn't stay long, but I could apologize again in person for the way I dumped it on her last night. I hadn't even gotten a return text from her, but I counted on her and she knew that. It was nearing three in the afternoon, the time my morning shift workers left and the evening shift came on, so when I parked in front and noticed the lights inside the bakery were off, I felt a sinking feeling of dread.
Marisol stood at the door looking around, phone in hand, and before she noticed I was parked here watching her, my phone started to ring. Instead of answering it I got out, leaving Ethan sleeping in the back seat, and walked over toward her.
"Oh, hey, Scarlett. Why's the door locked?" Marisol looked confused and I was definitely confused, and a bit upset.
"I'm not sure…" I cupped my hands on the glass and pressed my eyes in, seeing nothing but darkness. "Hold on," I told her.
I pulled my phone out and shot Nellie a text message asking what was going on. When I got an immediate response that was two paragraphs long, I knew she'd been waiting all day to send it. She was angry again.
Nellie 2:52 PM: I told you last week I had things to do today. I know you can't control the weather and that school got canceled, but we need more help at the bakery now. I can't keep pulling all the weight.
And it's not fair for you to expect me to just show up and do things for you. I had important stuff—a doctor's appointment. I couldn't miss it. There was no way to reschedule. So I didn't open the bakery. I know it will affect our bottom dollar and if you're mad and fire me that's okay. I just think you should respect me more.
I stared at the phone feeling shocked and upset, but I couldn't be angry with her. I had been the one to dump this on her and it wasn't her fault.
"Uh, you can go home Marisol…" My eyes slowly rose from the phone screen and met my high-school-aged cashier. "We're not open today." I forced a smile and she bobbed a shoulder.
"So, I don't get paid?" she asked, and I sighed.
"No work means no pay…I'll get you some extra hours next week though. Okay?" My slight grimace must've passed right over her head. She scowled and walked up the street, her boots crunching on the snow.
I felt so angry with the whole situation, but I knew it was my fault. I had no one to blame but myself. If only I'd just planned for Ethan to come to work with me, none of this would've happened. Though, he'd have been bored all day, and we would never have gotten his chest to act up for the monitor to catch it.
Jamming my phone back into my pocket, I started back toward the car where Ethan slept peacefully. I was a few strides away when I saw movement between my car and a van parked next to it. I hadn't noticed the large white panel van pull up, but I recognized the pointy nose and narrow face of the woman who dropped out of the passenger side door.
"Ms. Moore! Can I have a second of your time?" she asked, hustling around the front of her van and my car. I got to the driver's side door and grabbed the handle, but she was already firing off questions.
"Ms. Moore, you've been seen around town with Dr. Nicholas Edwards. You know they call him Dr. Scandal Claus after his medical malpractice that killed a patient around the holidays?" Marjorie Whitman held some sort of digital recording device in her hand, and a man near her van was struggling with a large camera. The nosy reporter was just as sleazy as I pictured her in real life. I hated her show on television.
"No comment," I told her abruptly and she moved closer, making it impossible for me to open my door. She leaned on it and shoved the device closer to my face.
"Is it true, you were seen kissing him under mistletoe? Are you dating him? Do you not care about how he murdered a patient?"
Every question she asked made me cringe inside. I was now associated with all of that, all the things I'd been hoping to avoid. All the reasons I never told Nick about Ethan to begin with. I glanced at Ethan in the back seat and knew in my heart, being in the news for this was the last thing he needed. He wanted a normal life, like a normal kid. If his friends' parents got wind of this, he'd be mocked and bullied at school.
"Please move," I told her and I yanked on the door, but not before the cameraman had his camera rolling, red light on top flashing.
I got into the car and backed up without even buckling my seatbelt. This is the sort of thing Nick had been living with for years now, and I felt guilty that the very first instance of encountering it had me second-guessing myself. I couldn't deal with this. If dating Nick meant that horrible gossip reporter nosing around, I might not want Ethan to feel so comfortable with Nick after all. I couldn't emotionally deal with that and Ethan's sickness at the same time. Call me weak, but I just couldn't.