His face crumpled for just a second before he smoothed it back into control.
“If I make a plan, if I create a system, then I can get through it. Otherwise I just—” His head dropped to look down at his toes.
“Otherwise you feel it.”
When he nodded, I set the notebook down and took his hand. “You’re allowed to feel it, Connor. You’re allowed to be sad and tired and overwhelmed. You’re allowed to not have a plan for everything.”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
“Then let’s start small.” I picked up his pen and held it out. “Add one thing to your list, just for you.”
He took the pen like it might burn him, staring at the page for a long moment.
Then, in the smallest handwriting, he wrote:
? Watch a movie with Hannah
My eyes burned. “See? You belong on your list too.”
He set the pen down, and I pulled him into a hug. He buried his face in my shoulder, and I felt him take one shaky breath, then another.
“I’m sorry,” he said into my hair. “For tracking your milk. For hovering.”
“I know. And I’m sorry for not thinking about your mom. That wasn’t fair.”
“It was a little fair.” He pulled back, gave me a watery smile. “So. Movie on the couch?”
I glanced at the clock. “But I haven’t even had my coffee yet.”
He shifted towards the coffee pot before I stopped him mid-step. “Connor McNamara, I can pour my own coffee.”
He laughed and pulled me closer, kissing my forehead. “Pour some for both of us.”
Connor
Twoevents.Ijusthad to get through two events.
Santa’s hospital rounds this morning, then the Breakfast with Santa fundraiser at Donnelly’s this afternoon. Grace had texted the schedule at 6am with characteristic optimism:Santa marathon day! You’re the best for helping with logistics!
I’d stared at that text for five full minutes, wondering how I’d been roped into this, before responding with a thumbs up.
The automatic doors of Saratoga Hospital slid open with a pneumatic hiss, and the familiar antiseptic smell hit me.
Different hospital. Different wing. Differentstate, even. But hospitals all smelled the same.
I adjusted my grip on my notebook, double checked the seventeen items on my list. If I could just focus on crossing them off one by one, I’d get through this, then I could breathe at Donnelly’s.
“Connor?” Grace appeared beside me in full Mrs. Claus regalia—the ridiculous cape, the ugly bonnet, the wire glasses. “You sure you’re okay with this?”
“Yeah. Fine.” My voice came out steadier than I felt. “Tell me where to start.”
She studied my face, her social worker brain probably cataloging my inability to meet her eyes. “Pediatric cardiology is on the fourth floor. We’ll start there, then work our way through pulmonology and oncology.”
I nodded and opened the checklist I’d made last night instead of sleeping. “Fifteen minutes per department, accounting for travel time between floors and a buffer for any kids who need extra attention.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I’ve got it mapped out. We’ll be done by noon, plenty of time to get to Donnelly’s for setup at one.” I was already walking toward the elevators, not waiting to see if she followed.
