Leap Of Faith

Chapter Eleven

[photo by Marcelo Leal from Unsplash]

Topher

Friday morning starts early, thanks to another restless night. The plus side is I'm ahead of schedule on my rounds, which means I can take my time with Emma Williams. I knock twice and enter her room. She smiles, lifting her arthritic hand just an inch off the mattress. I take it in mine and sit on the edge of her bedside chair. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm just fine," she says, but the words don't mean anything to me. It's the same thing she said when she came into the ER with a broken hip. Only that day, her face was twisted with pain.

"Did you sleep last night?" I ask.

"I only called for the nurse one time."

Not quite an answer, is it? Not that I need one. Her eyes are tired, her skin sallow. I glance at her IV fluids. The bag is full, recently replaced, but she's not sufficiently hydrated. I give her hand a gentle squeeze before I stand to adjust the flow, increasing the drip.

What Emma needs most, I cannot give her. Her brittle bones will not heal fast enough for her insurance company, and because there are no other options, she will likely be transferred to a skilled nursing facility.

"You look different today, Dr. Thompson."

I reclaim my seat, recapture her hand and give her a smile. It's amazing how observant she is. "You're not the only one missing out on sleep," I say.

"Not because of pain, I think."

"No. I have a lot on my mind lately."

Her eyes sparkle with comprehension. "A woman," she says decidedly and I huff.

"You're absolutely correct. Her name is Emma Williams and I'm trying to figure out how to keep her here with me a bit longer."

"Someone young and beautiful, I think."

She narrows her eyes, studying me, and I cannot hold her gaze. It makes me feel transparent.

"I hope she knows what a treasure she's found in you," Emma says.

I smile, accepting her compliment out of respect but there's an adverse physical reaction in my chest. After I made my declaration to Leni's unconventional little family they seemed to accept me with open arms. What would they think if they knew the truth? I have doubts about her secret—doubts so substantial my head still aches from the cognitive tug of war.

"Do you believe in miracles?" Emma asks.

I snort a laugh, run a hand through my hair. This question is stalking me.

"I can only promise that I'll do everything within my power to make sure you get the one you've been praying for."

★ ★ ★

It's half-nine and my chest is absurdly tight. Honestly. How have I let it come to this?

I close my fist around my mobile as I push out of the employee entrance and into the blinding sun. I haven't contacted Leni since I backed out of her driveway Sunday evening—although in that moment, I wanted to ring her straight away, to keep our addictive banter going for the entirety of my drive home. But that was before the haze of my infatuation wore off.

There was a palpable shift in that tiny house after I promised to protect Leni. Matt was instantly affable. Dee's smiles came easier. And Leni herself... Well, I can't say she was wholly at ease with her sister's curiosity. Or rather, the full-on interrogation: my family history learned, my character scrutinized. But Leni made little effort to curtail Dee's line of questioning. She opted instead to offer moral support in the manner of her soft, warm hand on my bicep. And eye contact, that although brief, elicited the harmless variety of heart palpitations that were my constant companion in med school. In this case, however, stress was not the initiate.