Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Dean squinted and leaned his head forward a little as a wave of dizziness swept over him. Around him, the sounds of his auto repair shop filled the air. His employees were making banging sounds as they hit metal tools against metal parts, and whirring sounds as they used electric tools. The noise felt overwhelming to him all of a sudden, and he closed his eyes fully for a moment, wondering why the repair shop was suddenly striking him as a stressful place to be.
He thought to himself that maybe he should have stayed home from work that day. He’d woken up feeling weak and lightheaded, but he’d told himself that it would get better as he started to move around more. He didn’t want to miss another day of work, especially because they were starting to get behind on their repairs, something his shop had never done before.
He opened his eyes again, telling himself that he just needed to steel himself and keep working. He picked up a power tool and turned it on, getting ready to deep clean the inside of the rusty brakes he was working on.
In the next moment, his hand dropped the tool. It was as if he suddenly didn’t have the strength to grip it anymore. The sharp edge of the tool glanced off his other hand as it fell, cutting the side of his thumb badly.
The tool landed on the floor with a clatter, and Dean stared down at his thumb in shock as blood started to run across his hand.
“You okay, boss?” called Steve, one of his employees.
Dean registered that sounds of machinery in the shop all stopped as his employees hurried toward him in concern. His head buzzed and he felt as though he might pass out. He covered his thumb with his other hand in a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding.
“What happened?” Steve asked, appearing at his elbow.
Dean shook his head. “I—my hand got weak all of a sudden, and I dropped that.”
The tool was still whirring at Dean’s feet. Steve crouched down and turned it off, then stood up again, looking at Dean with concern.
“How bad is that cut?” asked Sam.
“Not bad. I don’t think I’ll need stitches or anything.” Dean forced a smile, even though his hand was throbbing with pain.
“I’ll go tell Vivian,” Steve said. “That worries me, what you said about your hand getting weak.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Dean said, feeling his heart thump as he thought about how he still hadn’t told his family about his diagnosis.
“I’ll just run down to The Lighthouse Grill and let her know, if she’s there,” Steve said, peeling off his grease-covered work gloves. “If she’s not there, one of your sisters will be I’m sure.”
“Steve—” Dean started to protest, but Steve slipped out the door in the next instant.
“Hey, boss, how about you go clean off your hand and then sit down for a while, okay?” Sam was frowning with concern. “You look kind of pale. I’m worried you might pass out.”
Dean nodded, realizing that he was feeling even more lightheaded than before. He didn’t want to pass out—and he especially didn’t want to pass out in a room that was tightly packed with sharp tools and large metal objects.
He walked over to the office, and while Sam didn’t accompany him, Dean felt the eyes of all his employees on him as he went. He ducked inside the bathroom, where he washed out his cut and bandaged it.
As he was stepping out of the bathroom, he heard the voices of his mother and sisters. His eyebrows lifted as he stepped out of the office, surprised that they could get there that quickly, but sure enough, Julia, Alexis, and Vivian were all walking inside the shop, slightly out of breath as if they’d run there.
“Dean!” Alexis cried as soon as she saw him. She rushed to his side. “Steve told us that you dropped a tool and cut yourself. Are you okay?”
Dean held up his bandaged hand. “I’m fine.” He forced a smile. “It’s not that deep of a cut at all.”
Vivian shook her head as she came forward to give him a hug. He felt a wave of relief as he felt his mother’s arms around him, since no matter how old he got, she always made him feel safe.
“It’s not the cut we’re worried about,” she told him. “It’s the fact that you dropped the tool. Steve said your hand got weak for a moment.”
“I’m fine. Things happen.” Dean smiled at his family, and his smile was genuine this time. “I appreciate you all running over here to check on me, but there’s no need to make all this fuss. I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”
He knew he needed to tell his family about what he’d learned from the doctor at some point, but he didn’t feel ready to do it yet. He wanted to brush off the incident as something that wasn’t a big deal so that they would all go back to the pub and stop worrying about him.
Julia shook her head. “You look pale, Dean. You should go sit down for a while.”
“I agree,” said Alexis.
Dean shrugged. “Okay. I’ll sit down for a while.”
He went into the office and sat down in the desk chair, and his muscles felt limp. His bones seemed to ache a little in a way that almost seemed to burn. He shut his eyes, thinking to himself that what he was feeling was even worse than coming down with the flu.
“He really hasn’t been himself lately.” Dean heard Steve saying in a hushed voice. “He hasn’t seemed to be feeling well.”
“He hasn’t said anything to us,” Vivian said, sounding worried, and Dean winced.
“What do you mean, he hasn’t been feeling well?” Julia asked. “Has something like this happened before?”
“He just seems low energy,” Sam said. “There was a day he went into the office to rest for a while. I thought maybe he was getting sick or something, but now this happens.”
“I want to go check on him,” Alexis said, and Julia said, “I’m coming with you.”
Dean opened one eye as his sisters walked into the office.
“Hey.” Julia crouched down at his side. “How are you feeling?”
“You guys.” Dean shook his head. “You’re acting like something really bad happened. It’s just a cut.”
“Yeah, but it’s a bad cut,” Alexis protested. “Look, you’re bleeding through the bandage already.”
“Are you sick?” Julia placed her hand on Dean’s forehead, checking for a temperature. “Hmm. You feel cold.”
“I’m fine.” Dean shook his head, unable to keep from smiling a little at the way his sisters were fussing over him.
“I think you need to go to the doctor to get that cut checked out,” Alexis said. “You don’t want it to get infected. Besides, you might need stitches or something.”
“Oh, I don’t think I need stitches,” Dean protested.
Julia shook her head. “You don’t know that for sure. That’s a lot of blood. Besides, you should talk to a doctor about why you were feeling weak.”
Dean couldn’t help wincing a little bit, since he had already talked to a doctor about why he was feeling weak.
“You go to the doctor, and then go straight home.” Alexis put her hands on her hips, showing that she meant business. “Absolutely no coming back here to work today. We’ll make sure the guys kick you out if you try to come back.”
Dean shook his head wryly, laughing. “Okay, okay. I’ll go to the doctor.”
“You want me to drive you?” Julia offered. “I was just doing marketing work at the pub, and that’s something I can do any time.”
He waved that off. “No, it’s all right. I’m fine, really. The walk-in clinic is a couple of blocks from here, and one block from my house. I’ll just go there and then go straight home afterward.”
He thought to himself that he would need to call his regular doctor, however, and inform her of what had happened. It did make him nervous, since he didn’t want to lose his ability to work.
“Okay.” Julia frowned slightly in concern. “Be careful as you’re walking, though, okay? If you start to feel really lightheaded, sit down. It would be bad if you passed out.”
“I’m not going to pass out,” he assured her, although at that moment he felt another wave of dizziness and he saw the wisdom in her words. “I’ll text you all when I get to the clinic, and when I get home again.” He forced another brave smile, and both Alexis and Julia seemed to accept his performance.
“Okay.” Alexis sighed. “I guess we’ll just walk you as far as the street corner for now.”
Dean said goodbye to his employees for the day, giving them instructions on what to prioritize in terms of repair, and then he and his family stepped out into the sunlight.
“Text us, Dean, you promise?” Julia said, giving him a hug on the street corner.
“I will.” He smiled as if nothing was wrong, even though his hand was throbbing and his head was starting to buzz with dizziness again. “And I’ll see you all soon.”
He started off along the sidewalk, listening to the sound of his sisters and his mother talking as they made their way back to The Lighthouse Grill. They sounded worried, but not as worried as he knew they would be if he told them what was really going on with him.
He glanced back over his shoulder and saw them disappear around the corner at the end of the street. He sighed, hoping that the incident of him hurting his hand would be soon forgotten. He didn’t want his family to keep asking him questions about his health, because he didn’t feel ready to tell them about his medical diagnosis yet.
He kicked at a pebble as he walked, smiling a little to himself as he thought about the way they’d rushed over to the auto repair shop to be there for him. Even though he didn’t want to tell his family what was going on with him, he felt lucky that he was surrounded by people that cared about him so much.