24. Coraline
24
Coraline
Dinner last night went a lot smoother than I anticipated. I really didn’t know what to expect, but I’m just glad we were able to talk.
It actually sort of felt good, just like old times. He was my best friend for pretty much my entire adolescence. I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t miss him and the friendship we shared.
It all still feels surreal. I almost feel like I’m living in some weird fantasy. The way he was looking at me at dinner last night was almost too much, but I also secretly loved it.
I plan on talking to Harrison this evening after I finish up at work. I have no idea how he is going to take the news, but I’ll be so relieved to get it off of my chest.
Gemma is going to come over to play with Michael while I talk to Harrison in private. It’s been really hard and confusing for Michael’s little, four year old brain to comprehend that his daddy isn't coming back home. I don’t want to confuse him even more by including him in the conversation tonight, especially if it goes badly.
I walk around the nurses station and pick up my next patient's chart, Edith Clearwater. I start flipping through the pages to see why she's here today and relax a little when I realize she’s just here for a follow up from her cardiac event last week.
Her testimony that she gave in church has really stuck with me. It warmed my heart to hear the impact that God allows me to have on my patients' lives. Most people who work in healthcare get so numb to the traumatic situations that they go through. It’s easy to forget that our bad days at work are sometimes the scariest day of someone's life.
How the patient is treated during those events is something that they'll never forget. This is something I find myself guilty of from time to time, especially when I worked in the inpatient hospital setting.
“Good evening Mrs.Clearwater. It’s Coraline, may I come in?” I lightly knock on the door.
“Of course dear.”
I walk inside of the room and take a seat on the stool. Edith is sitting on the examination table with her husband at her side.
Dr. Dawson, and his man purse full of drinks, took care of Edith while she was in the inpatient setting. I will be handling the follow up care from here on out unless something else happens.
“I read Dr. Dawson’s notes from your hospital visit. How is everything going? Do you have any concerns that I can help you with?”
“Everything is going just fine. I haven’t had any more symptoms and I’ve been taking it easy. I think I’m ready to start back in the garden again.”
“I think that’s a great idea.” I agree while I complete my physical assessment. I listen to her heart and lungs with my stethoscope and review her vital signs. "Everything looks great."
“I just want to say thank you again, Coraline,” she says, taking my hand in hers. “You’re wonderful at what you do, and from what I’ve heard and seen, you’re a great mama. Keep up the good work.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Clearwater. I really appreciate that,” I reply, my heart swelling a little at the kindness in her words.
“May I give you some advice?” she asks gently. I nod my head in response.
“One of the most important things I’ve learned in my life,” she continues, her eyes steady, “is to put God first in everything that I do. Even when I don’t understand why I’m going through something or how I’m going to get through it, I just trust in Him. Don’t ever forget to do that.”
I made Harrison’s favorite dinner tonight—homemade pizza casserole. I also baked some fresh cookies that smell absolutely delightful, much better than the burnt ones that Gemma tried to make a few weeks ago.
We sit down at the table together. I pick the seat with the best view of the lake house—Jesse’s house. I still can’t believe he owns it. If I could close my eyes and dream of the perfect house, it would be that one.
We eat in silence for a few minutes. I want to bring up the conversation, but each time I gather the courage, my anxiety takes over, and I lose it. I go through this cycle a few times before, finally, I find the strength to just get it over with.
“Harrison, sweetheart,” I begin, my voice soft, “do you remember asking me about a photograph in my bedroom that you found?”
“Yes, the one of you and the oven dude.”
“Yes, that one,” I say, a small smile tugging at my lips. “The oven dude’s name is Jesse Cooper. He used to be my best friend, and we loved each other very much.”
“So what happened?” He asks, his brows furrowing in confusion.
“Mommy left town for college and moved to the city where you grew up,” I begin, my voice steady. “It was there that I found out you were growing in my tummy.”
Harrison looks up at me, still unsure, his eyes wide.
“I tried to tell your real father, but he never answered me. I just recently found out that he didn’t even know about you and never got my messages. Jesse Cooper—the oven dude, as you call him—he’s your dad, Harrison.” I say while holding his gaze.
"Oh,” Harrison says, taking another bite of his food.
“He truly didn’t know you were born,” I continue, my voice gentle. “I thought he did. But he knows now, and he’d like to get to know you. But only if you’re comfortable with that.”
“I guess that would be good. Will you be there too?” He looks up at me, uncertainty in his eyes.
“I will be if you want me to be, baby,” I say, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand.
“What’s he like, Mom?”
“He’s funny, smart, and he has a dog,” I reply, my heart swelling just a little. “I think if you give him a chance, he’ll be a great dad.”
“A dog! That’s so cool! I wonder if he’ll let me pet it,” he grins, clearly excited by the idea.
He pauses for a minute and we eat in silence again.
“Hey, Mom… what if he gets to know me and doesn’t like me?” His voice quiet and unsure.
“Oh bub, that’s not possible. He’s very excited to get to know the real you this time. There’s not a doubt in my mind that he doesn’t already love you.”