Chapter Forty-Six
Ava
Ihelp Trevor out of the car as Dawn gets his crutches from the trunk.
As soon as I knew Trevor was going to be okay, I called his parents and they made the drive back from Vermont. That was yesterday.
He was kept in the hospital overnight for observation. Not because of his leg—that didn’t even require surgery—but because of his previous TBI and the fact that he lost consciousness. But the MRI and CT scan both showed no brain swelling or anything else of great concern, for which we’re all eternally grateful.
“Careful,” I say as he eases out of Chuck’s car. “Don’t put any weight on it.”
He smiles. “Yes, doctor.”
Once inside, Chuck arranges pillows on the couch for Trevor. Dawn fetches another from the bedroom to prop under his leg. I get his phone, the TV remote, and a bottle of water.
I stand back when he’s all situated. “There. Now you have everything right here at your fingertips.”
“If you don’t need anything else from us,” Chuck says, “I think we’ll go over and make sure the shop hasn’t burned to the ground in your absence.”
“I’m sure Jason has taken care of things, but I appreciate you checking on it. And maybe filling in for me for the rest of the week?”
“A week?” Trevor asks. “Ava, you don’t need to stay here and be my nursemaid.”
“But you heard the doctors. The more you stay off it in this first week, the quicker it will heal.”
Dawn chuckles. “You know what they say about doctors. They make the worst patients.”
“You really don’t have to worry about me, Mom,” he says. “I’m not going to screw up my recovery. I’m starting my new job in a few weeks. One that will require me to be on my feet. A lot. Believe me, I’m following doctor’s orders—keep it elevated, wash it twice a day, take my antibiotics, no weight for forty-eight hours, then ease into it but watch for any swelling. Physical therapy if I don’t feel it’s returning to normal within a few weeks.” He shakes his head. “Honestly, guys, it’s just a flesh wound. It’s no big deal.”
“You were shot, Trevor,” his mom says. “It’s a huge deal.”
“It’s already in the news,” Chuck adds, looking at his phone. “Amnesia Doctor shot while shielding two others; becomes local hero.”
Trevor scoffs. “When do you think they’ll stop calling me that?”
Dawn leans over and kisses Trevor on the cheek. “Call us if you need anything.”
Once they’re gone, I retrieve the pouch I’d tucked away in a closet drawer months ago. I sit on the coffee table and hand it to him. “I gave this to you once before. I hope you don’t mind meregiftingit to you again.”
Hesitantly, he takes it from me, but then an eyebrow raises when he feels what it is through the velvety pouch. He pulls out the stethoscope and smiles.
“I thought you might need it now that you’re official again.” I close my eyes, head shaking. “I still can’t believe it. You’re a doctor again. All our dreams are coming true.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call me working PRN shifts in the ER a dream come true, but it’s a step.”
I smile sadly. “I know you really want to be a surgeon. Maybe another fellowship will open up sometime.”
“Yeah, maybe. Don’t get me wrong. I’m excited to be able to practice medicine at all, but you need to know what being a PRN doctor entails, babe. I’ll most likely be working nights, weekends, and holidays. Basically all the shifts the regular doctors don’t want.”
“It won’t be forever.”
“Assuming anyone else will want to hire the Amnesia Doctor.”
I cup his face in my hands. “They will. I know they will. Now, read the inscription.”
His brows narrow as he scans the stethoscope then reads it aloud. “You’ll always have my heart.” He looks up. “When did you give this to me?”
“The day you graduated medical school.”
