Chapter 25
Jeannie
Bad Habits Die Hard
For the first time since I was sixteen, my life seemed truly stable.
Things weren’t perfect, of course, and sometimes my deadlines were so stacked together that it made my head spin, and my sleep schedule went to complete shit, but that was part and parcel of being a freelance editor.
What mattered was that everything else was going as brilliantly as I could ever hope. Actually, more brilliantly than I could ever hope.
Despite my fears that everything would vanish once we returned to the real world, Remy and I had continued to casually date into the early months of spring.
We weren’t quite at six months yet, but I didn’t foresee anything stopping us from getting that far.
We still got along as well as ever, the sex was still incredible, and our kids were still glued to each other like a book to its binding.
Sure, we didn’t get to see each other as much as we would like.
The warming weather meant Remy was much busier with his landscaping business and his daughters were back in school, but we cherished the time that we did have together.
Also, it gave Max the opportunity to hear all sorts of stories about what it was like and he was more eager than ever to go back to school in the upcoming fall.
I was nervous for him, but it was time for my boy to get back out there.
As long as his doctor gave the go-ahead, of course, and I was certain he would.
It had only been a few months since that Christmas jamboree, but Max had hit a growth spurt, and he kept improving by leaps and bounds.
Somewhere, in all the hubbub, he’d finally started growing again, and he had gained another five pounds.
If he kept going like that, he was on track to be out of the “underweight” classification by the time he reentered school.
If that wasn’t a victory, I didn’t know what was.
Of course, he still had his physical therapy and his online classes, but between that, socializing with Addy and Eva and their extended family, and me allowing him a bit more independence that was appropriate for a boy who was about to turn ten, he was flourishing.
Which is why I was concerned when he didn’t come down at his normal time on dollar book day.
Although money wasn’t as tight anymore—Remy insisted on helping me out with groceries—we still stuck to our expeditions to get those paperbacks.
I figured even if we didn’t really need them, it was excellent bonding time for me and my son, a good way to get some exercise in, and a way to donate to the local library. A real win-win-win scenario.
“Hey, big guy!” I called up the stairs. “Did you need a little extra sleep today?”
That wouldn’t exactly have been shocking.
Max had always had an issue with spring allergies, and he had definitely been sniffling a lot the last few days.
I’d given him the medicine he was supposed to take, but antihistamines could only do so much.
At least, it wasn’t nearly as much of a scare as when he had been so sick, but still, I didn’t like seeing him uncomfortable.
When there was no answer, concern lanced through me.
There was a time when my son couldn’t draw on enough air to shout down the stairs, but now that he was doing so much better, I knew he reveled in projecting and did it whenever he could.
So if he wasn’t using his full voice to call back to me, that probably meant that he couldn’t.
I knew he was in remission—I knew that—as it had changed the entire trajectory of our lives for the better, but that same cold terror gripped me as I raced up the stairs, fearing the worst.
I practically erupted into his bedroom, accidentally forgetting to knock, which was bad of me, but whatever. I would apologize once I knew Max was okay. Except he wasn’t there. His bed was empty, sheets thrown aside.
I heard the shower running and rushed to the bathroom. While that was a good sign, it didn’t stop the furious pounding of my heart. I knocked loudly, hoping I wasn’t startling my son but needing to know.
“Hey, big man, are you okay in there?”
I waited for him to tell me he was fine and that I had to stop being so nosy, but all I heard was a sniffle and a pregnant pause before Max answered, his voice so soft I could scarcely hear him.
Not for the first time since learning that shifters were real, I found myself wishing I had their enhanced senses.
I knew I would think differently once Max was a teenager and did all the things teenage boys did, but for now, I could think about a thousand-and-one useful applications for it.
“I think I might be sick.”
Sick? Oh no. Oh no! That anxiety I’d tried to tamp down surged forward, and I knocked again.
“I’m gonna come in, all right?”
“Yeah, you probably should.”
I entered the bathroom, not sure what to expect, but at least it was nothing horrific. Max was sitting on the closed toilet, still in his pajamas, while the shower ran at full blast with the curtain open.
“Close the door, please. You’re letting out all the steam.”
He looked completely rundown, the exact opposite of how he’d gone to bed the night before. While I hated seeing him this way and my body was on red alert, part of me was so proud of him for trying to ease his symptoms.
“What’s wrong, buddy? You got a cough?”
He nodded weakly, finally lifting his head to look at me with miserable eyes. My heart lurched, because he hadn’t worn that expression in ages.
“It’s okay, big man. I’ll go grab your inhaler and call the doctor. You stay in here until the water runs out. This is probably just a cold baby, no need to worry.”
“Yeah. A cold. Just like a regular kid.”
“Just like a regular kid,” I agreed.
I maintained my smile and my calm demeanor as I stepped out into the hall and shut the door, walking slowly in case he heard me. Once I was sure I was out of range, I sprinted to my bedroom and was dialing his doctor’s office before my door even fully closed.
Normally, a cold wasn’t a huge deal, and most parents wouldn’t be calling the doctor immediately.
But most parents didn’t have a kid whose immune system was still building itself back from the ground up.
Sometimes they went right back to normal, because kids were crazy like that, but sometimes a tiny infection or virus could make holes in ways that would wreak absolute havoc.
I wasn’t going to give it a chance to do that.
As the phone rang, I had a horrific revelation. What if it hadn’t been his allergies bothering him? What if it had been whatever was happening now, just hidden within his cells, slowly growing in secrecy until it was time to strike?
Calm down. Don’t catastrophize. We’ve been through worse, we’ll get through this with no problem.
I tried to repeat those mantras to myself as the line rang for several centuries. But when the menu finally came up, I punched in the appropriate prompts, and finally, one of the receptionists answered, her pleasant tone a sharp contrast to the way my mood was rapidly turning.
“Good morning! How—”
“My name is Jeannie Wolfe, my son Max Wolfe is a patient in your oncology unit. He’s currently in remission, but he woke up this morning not feeling well and I’d like to bring him in immediately.”
It wasn’t how I preferred to speak to the people who worked so hard in that medical facility, but thankfully, the receptionist seemed to understand because she didn’t miss a beat.
“Of course, Miss Wolfe, I understand. Let me check the doctor’s schedule, and I will get back to you in just a moment. Would you prefer to stay on hold or have me call you back?”
“Hold, please.” As annoying as the music would be on the line, it was so much better than the noise in my head. I was trying very hard to stop a spiral, and honestly, off-pitch, royalty free music seemed like a pretty great distraction from that.
“Understood.”
The receptionist put me on hold, but in under two minutes, she returned. “Thank you for waiting. The doctor would like you to come in as soon as possible. Do you have an idea when that would be?”
I paused, pulling my phone away from my face to check the time. Considering the traffic... “Just under an hour.”
“Perfect! We’ll see you then.”
Bbbbzzzzz.
Someone was texting me, but I couldn’t bring myself to check my phone. I was barely containing the storm within me, and if Max’s head wasn’t on my lap, I probably would have been pacing around the room.
I thought I would be assuaged once I arrived and Dr. Byrne got a chance to look Max over. That she would tell me it was a normal cold and to baby him, but that wasn’t what happened at all.
Instead, she’d listened intently, had Max open his mouth and stick out his tongue, checked his ears, and scheduled an X-ray.
Luckily, the cancer center where Max got his treatment had one on-site, so we were escorted right over there, Max in a wheelchair and wheezing ever so slightly.
Unfortunately, my mind had to wrap itself around the fact that he needed a fucking X-ray.
I knew it was a bit foolish, a bit blindly optimistic, but I’d thought that chunk of our life was over. Every night, I prayed to the universe and anybody else who would listen that my son would never, ever have to go through something like that again. But now?
What if the cancer was back?
That was the thing that kept repeating in my head over and over again, making me want to vomit.
A great deal of my brain clamored at me to call Remy and.
.. I didn’t even know what. It wasn’t like there was anything that he could do, but still, it would be a huge comfort to me.
But for whatever reason, I was locked inside my own body until I knew what was going on.
When a knock sounded on the door, it took all of my willpower not to jump to my feet and fling it open. “Come in,” I said softly, bracing myself for everything I had been dreading.