A Missing Heart Read online

  “During the day. At night, he turns into a werewolf. So, don’t let those dimples fool you, Uncle Hunt.”

  With the baby babble out of the way, we get to work quietly, avoiding all questions I would definitely be asking if the roles were reversed. He doesn’t pry, but I swear it’s because he just knows. That bastard knows everything and I can’t figure out how. Maybe it’s the whole rite of passage for an older brother shit, but I wish I were as intuitive as he is.

  It’s almost like I want to talk about it.

  “AJ,” he says while hammering a nail.

  “It’s a long story,” I answer.

  “Could I have that box of nails please?” he follows.

  Oh.

  “Considering I never bring Gavin to work, why haven’t you asked me why he’s is here?” I finally blurt out like a teenage girl who is desperately seeking attention.

  Hunter looks over at me and sits down against the wall, removes his work gloves and folds his hands together. “You’ve been my brother for twenty-nine years,” he begins. “I figured you didn’t want to talk about whatever fight you must have had with Tori this morning. I knew you’d tell me when you were ready.” Why does it sound like I’m talking to Dad? When did he start doing the whole lead in to a conversation with an opening lecture? He’s been doing way too much parenting lately.

  He is turning into Dad. “You’re turning into Dad,” I say in rebuttal.

  Hunter lets his head fall back against a naked beam in the wall. “I’ll cut to the chase then,” he sighs. “Tori is a really, really sweet woman. I think you two had some good chemistry, and I saw things heading in a direction I wanted and hoped for you after your string of bad luck with women, and of course your never-mended broken heart from her.” He has no idea how bad my luck has really been with women—Cammy in particular. “But—” There’s a but. He knows more about Tori than I do, doesn’t he? “I noticed a change when you two found out about Gavin. I know you were a little shocked at first, and it wasn’t exactly in your plan, but you got over it quickly and warmed up to the idea of having a kid, faster than I would have expected.” He stops for a minute and grabs his bottle of water, chugging half the thing before continuing. “But that doesn’t seem to have happened for Tori yet. Didn’t you say neither of you wanted children, and that’s why you were so perfect for each other?” I did say that. More than once. It’s why she was on the pill, and we were using condoms. Except, the pill needs to be taken every single night, and condoms can sometimes break. Nine months later, plan unexpected comes shooting out of a dark hole.

  Whatever the case, I know he’s right. “You think she’ll ever warm up to the idea of being a mom? I mean, it’s not exactly like we have a choice now.”

  “She might. I’ve heard it takes some parents longer than others to bond. Give it some time. However,” he says, pausing for a second, “I never thought I’d say this...like, literally…never, but I think you were meant to be a dad, and for that reason alone, everything else will fall into place.”

  “You sound like Dad. You’re seriously aging yourself, Hunt. Have you looked in the mirror lately?” I scratch at my own chin. “You’ve got some salt and pepper action going on there.” I look up a little, focusing on his messy head of hair. “Hmm…and I see a little up there too.”

  “Shut it, jackass. Whatever,” he says, standing up and grabbing the box of nails from the brick-covered fireplace. “Charlotte likes it.”

  “Well, if Charlotte likes it, then it must stay,” I say with a bit of flamboyance to get the you’re whipped message across.

  “Such a loser,” he says, hammering the last nail in.

  With our argument fizzling out, I look around the room, noticing that we got this huge-ass living area covered in only two hours. “Pretty impressive for a gramps and a man running on no sleep.”

  Hunter cleans up a couple of the scraps as I check the corners for any loose ends.

  “Bro, Gavin is definitely burning up.” I turn toward the two of them, seeing Hunter’s hand on Gavin’s head again. “Do you have a baby bag or anything? Hopefully, Tori has a thermometer in there.”

  “Yeah it’s, uh…it’s in the truck.” Gavin’s never been sick. He’s only four months old. I don’t know what the hell to do with a sick baby. Which is obviously why I’m standing here like a dumbass staring at him while Hunter runs out to my truck.

  He returns with the diaper bag and tears it apart for a full two minutes before he starts cussing. “Shit, how can there be no thermometer in here. Dammit. We need to find out his temperature. Babies his age can’t have a fever of more than about a hundred-and-two, I think. It can be serious, AJ.” How does he still remember all this shit, and I don’t remember anyone saying this to me? Is there a damn baby guidebook no one told me about? “Hold on. I should have a thermometer in my glove compartment. Either Olive or Lana are always crashing with a fever. You should really keep one on you.” I don’t know if this is the overboard part of Hunter talking or if this is the inexperienced AJ taking life notes from his experienced brother. Maybe I’m just a shitty dad and I really shouldn’t have taken on this role of some helpless child’s parent. Considering I’m in my late twenties and still questionable when it comes to my parental skills, it’s scary to think what might have happened with my daughter at seventeen. What the hell was I thinking?

  Hunter disappears outside again and returns less than a minute later with a weird-looking contraption. “What the hell is that and where does it go?” I ask him.

  “It’s a forehead-scanning thermometer. It’s not best for babies, but it’ll give us a close enough reading right now.” Thank God. If he were to tell me that thermometer should go anywhere but his head…I’d be more than a little scared. Hunter lightly scans the device over Gavin’s head as I drop to my knees in front of his car seat.

  “Is he breathing heavy or is it just my imagination?” I ask Hunter. That’s worry. I feel it. I have to protect this little guy with everything I have, and right now I’m failing miserably. “What does the thermometer say?”

  “We gotta get to a hospital, AJ. He’s got a hundred-and-three-degree fever.” I appreciate Hunter not drilling in the fact of the danger zone number again. I heard him the first time when he said anything over a hundred-and-two was dangerous.

  As we’re flying over the roads through town, I debate about calling Tori, but I can’t deal with that conversation right now, so I choose the wrong decision and forgo calling her. I need answers before I’m asked questions.

  I have my hand on Gavin’s chest as I lean into the backseat, feeling the rise and fall of his slow breaths. “He’s breathing weird,” I tell Hunter again.

  “You don’t know that. I’m sure it’s okay,” Hunter tries to assure me.

  It doesn’t take much for me to crack with the punch from his statement. Maybe he didn’t mean it as a low blow, but I can’t help responding defensively. “I know how he breathes, how fast his breaths are, how many seconds apart each one is, and how long they last. I spend every night of my life listening to him breathe, and I know he’s not breathing right.”

  Hunter looks over at me briefly while navigating us through town in my truck and smiles proudly. “I know, man. I’ve been there. I’m there. I believe you.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  IN ADDITION TO not calling Tori like I should have, evidently I was supposed to call Gavin’s pediatrician as well before showing up at the ER, which the receptionist condescendingly informed me. Why don’t I know any of this? I listened to everything. I’ve been to every appointment, and yet, I feel like the dumbest parent in existence. Now we’re sitting here in a goddamn waiting room while my son burns up in my arms. Shouldn’t kids have priority in an ER?

  Hunter places his hand on my shoulder and reaches over with a cup of coffee for me in his other hand. The coffee smells good, and while I appreciate the gesture, the caffeine is just going to stir me up more than I already am right now
. “Did you call you Tori yet?” he asks.

  I shake my head, realizing it’s been over an hour, and I have no excuse for not calling her by this point. “No,” I say, looking down at Gavin who’s unworried, unfazed, and asleep in my arms.

  “Oh, you probably should let her know,” Hunter says, sitting down beside me. “I don’t want to pry, but—”

  “You’re not,” I tell him.

  “You’ve changed, AJ.” His words aren’t meant to be offensive. It’s a factual statement. “And I’m worried about you.” I’m worried about me too. “You don’t laugh, you don’t smile, and you aren’t…you.”

  “Yeah,” I agree. I can’t disagree, because he’s right.

  “Are you okay?” he asks with hesitation.

  Wanting to blurt out my answer, I let his question stir around in my head for a minute. I’m not sure I know what the definition of okay is. I guess if I was okay I would feel happy, and I would smile and laugh like I used to, but since I don’t, I guess there’s only one answer to his question. “No. I’m not.”

  “I know,” he says. “Can I help you?”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t know if anyone can.”

  “Gavin,” a nurse calls from one of the open doors.

  “I’ll wait here,” Hunter says. Part of me feels like a child, and I want him to come with me. I hate hospitals. I know he hates them more, though, and with good reason.

  I bring Gavin in through the door, following the heavy-set nurse who’s draped in smiling puppy dog scrubs. As we enter the triage area, she pulls the curtain closed around us. “If you could remove his clothes except for his diaper, we’re going to weigh him, check his temperature, and his oxygen levels. You mentioned at the front desk that he has a fever?”

  “Yes. It was at a hundred-and-three.” With shaking hands, I remove the outer layer of Gavin’s clothes, then quickly move on to the buttoned onesie.

  “Have you given him Advil or any type of fever reducer in the past six hours?”

  “No, nothing. We came right here.” I look at her face, waiting for the judgmental “you did something wrong” look but there’s no look. She places a piece of paper down onto a scale and gestures for me to put Gavin down on it. The coldness must be seeping through the thin paper lining the scale because his eyes pop open, but only partially. With him looking at me now, I can see something isn’t right. He looks sick.

  She quickly weighs him and asks me to lift him back up. I wrap my arms around him tightly to keep him warm, knowing he must feel cold without clothes and the fever on top of it all. The nurse places the thermometer under his arm and we both wait in silence for the beep.

  In the same moment the beep goes off, my phone buzzes in my pocket, just like it’s been doing for an hour now, but I’ve ignored it. “Goodness,” the nurse says calmly. “A hundred-three-point-eight.”

  “So what does that mean? What do we do? Is he going to be okay?”

  “A doctor will be in to see him shortly, and we’ll go from there.” I was hoping for some reassurance, but she certainly didn’t offer any.

  The nurse leaves us alone in this curtain-covered, makeshift room where I hear a million different conversations and noises coming from various parts of the large area we’re all jammed inside of. I know how emergency rooms are. We’ll probably be waiting here an hour before a doctor will see us, which scares me considering Gavin’s fever is still rising. I settle down into the spare guest chair, still holding Gavin tightly within my arms. He’s looking at me like I have two heads, probably wondering what’s going on and why he feels like total crap. Why didn’t they give him some Tylenol or Motrin? I wonder if I should request some. At the same time, Hunter’s questions begin to replay in my head. If I don’t let Tori know what’s going on right now, I may never live this down. Sliding my phone out of my pocket, I look down at the screen, finding a few missed calls and text messages from her. The latest text message reads:

  Tori: AJ, are you kidding me? I just had to call Hunter to see where you were. Were you going to tell me our son was at the hospital? I’m on my way.

  Hunter probably thinks I’m going to kill him now, but I wouldn’t ask him to lie for me. I wasn’t planning to lie to her, I just...have about as much as I can handle going on right now, and drama isn’t going to help.

  Rather than reply to her text, I dial her number and place the phone up to my ear. I’m unsure if the call had even connected yet when Tori answers. “AJ, why didn’t you call me?”

  “I panicked,” is all I can say.

  “I had my hairdresser remove the foils from my hair sooner than she should have, so I don’t know what I’ll look like when I get there, but I figured you’d want me there too.”

  “I don’t think anyone cares about what you look like right now,” I tell her, keeping my voice down since we’re not supposed to be using cell phones in here.

  “Well, I do, obviously,” she replies. “Yeah, fuck you too!” She’s not yelling at me, it’s someone on the road, I’m sure. “Sorry, this guy just cut me off.”

  “He has a high fever, so I’m waiting for the doctor to come in.”

  “Ugh, this guy is seriously pissing me off right now,” she continues. “Now he’s going as slow as possible just to make sure I don’t get to the hospital.” I hear the horn blaring, followed by more unnecessary shouts. “When did you notice he had a fever? I thought he felt a little warm last night after dinner, but I didn’t think much about it.” Maternal instinct isn’t Tori’s strong suit, but I suppose not all moms have that instinct.

  “Hunter noticed it when he picked him up,” I tell her.

  “Of course, Mr. Mom would figure this out first,” she says, sarcastically.

  “Easy,” I tell her. Tori loved Hunter up until Gavin was born. It was like a switch flipped afterward. Hunter never offers unsolicited advice to her, but I think she has an issue with the fact that he’s a seasoned parent, and things come a little more naturally to him than they do for her. Hunter’s been a parent for seven years longer so I don’t think it’s anything to feel inferior about.

  “Let me guess, he’s still sitting there as your backup parent, slash babysitter, right?”

  “Tori? When did you start hating me so much?” I don’t mean to sound like a victim, and I don’t like to fight. I don’t like to even bicker. I did enough of that with Alexa in my last marriage, so I promised myself I’d do my best to keep the peace and follow my vows—the whole nine yards—so I don’t end up divorced a second time before turning thirty. Instead, I find myself keeping my mouth closed and saying, “Yes, honey,” more often than I should have to. Asking her why she hates me isn’t something I’ve ever done but I’m exhausted, irritated, and not in the mood for her attitude right now, so the words just came out.

  There’s no answer to my question, just silence. After several seconds of no sound, I pull the phone away, seeing she hung up on me. I slide the phone back into my pocket and readjust myself in this incredibly awkward and uncomfortable, blue plastic, bucket-seat chair.

  My slight movement triggers a loud cry from Gavin, who’s now grabbing at his ear. I think I read babies will do that if they have an ear infection. I wonder if ear infections cause fevers?

  The curtain parts from the wall and a young doctor walks through. “I’m Doctor Slate,” he says. “I hear Gavin has a moderate fever without other symptoms. Is that correct?”

  “Yes,” I say. “What do you think could be going on?” I realize he hasn’t looked at him yet, but it’s been hours now, which seems like forever, and I just want someone to tell me Gavin’s going to be okay. “He was pulling at his ear a minute ago.” I stand up with Gavin and lay him down on the exam table so the doctor can take a look at him.

  In less than a minute, the doctor is peeling his gloves off.

  “This little guy has a pretty significant ear infection in both ears. Because his fever is so high, we’re going to do some blood work, but
I’m confident the issue is simply the infection, which we can treat with antibiotics. I’m going to have the nurse come in to do the blood work, and we’ll give him a fever reducer as well, but you’ll need to keep up with that every six to eight hours to keep his fever as low as possible until it breaks and it will help with the pain. Lukewarm baths can also help bring the fever down.”

  The doctor doesn’t stick around for me to ask questions, but I’m not sure I have questions right now anyway. All I know is, I have to wait again. Taking out my phone, I want to let Hunter know what’s going on, and since Tori’s on her way, let him know he can take off with my truck if he needs to. School will be out soon, and I know he likes to get Olive and Lana from the bus.

  By the time I finish the text to Hunter, I hear a voice say, “Go on in; he’s in there.”

  The curtain whips open and Tori walks in with a baseball cap on and her wet hair pulled through the back side. “Has the doctor come in yet?” she asks.

  “Yeah, it’s an ear infection, but they want to do some tests to make sure it’s nothing more, so we’re waiting for that now.”

  “Thank goodness,” she says, looking around the room. “There’s only one chair? What if someone comes with two people?”

  I stand up with Gavin and offer her my seat, which she takes quickly, and I begin to hand her Gavin, assuming she’d want to hold him.

  “Oh, my nails might still be a little tacky. I had them done two hours ago and…”

  “Okay,” I say, cutting her off. “Why didn’t you answer my question on the phone?”

  “What question?” She knows what I asked her.

  “I asked you when you started hating me.” She stares at me for a long moment, still with no answer. “You don’t even act like the woman I first met. This isn’t you—wasn’t you. The hair, the nails, the appointments every day. It’s like you’re a different person, and I’ve never met someone who could change so drastically overnight.”