“Please. Don’t do that. Don’t try and tell me you don’t know. You know. You know me and you know Isla. And I need your help here. Please, Charlotte.”
“Okay, Luke. You fight. You fight with everything you have and when you feel like you can’t fight any more, you fight harder. You dig a little deeper. And you cross your fingers and pray. And you don’t stop until Isla’s in remission, and this was all just a bad dream.”
Luke sighed heavily and dropped his head against my shoulder. “So I fight?”
“You fight. You fight with everything you have, and you get Isla through this.”
“We fight. We, Charlotte. We. You and me. You, me, and Isla. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it together, okay. Are you in?”
How the hell was I supposed to say no? Even if I wanted to walk away, there’s no way I could. “I’m with you.”
“Right. Now where do we start?”
“We start with getting Isla the absolute best doctor she can.”
“Isn’t that you?” Luke asked not trying to blow smoke up my ass.
“It is,” I agreed with a smile. “But I can’t be Isla’s doctor. I do know someone who can be though.”
I don't know how long I sat there in Luke’s arms just talking. Trying to figure out a plan. The right plan. By the time we were walking down the corridor, headed to Isla’s room hand in hand, Luke had asked me to move in. At first I’d resisted, not wanting him to ask me out of pity or desperation, but he’d negotiated like a shark.
Rounding the corner, we found Isla sitting up in bed, watching TV with her teddy cuddled under her arm. She didn’t look sick. She didn’t look sick at all. In fact, throw on a pretty party dress and you'd be forgiven for thinking she was at home, tucked up safely in her own bed.
“Charlotte!” Isla squealed when she saw me.
Luke dropped my hand and I headed over to the bed and gave Isla a hug. I wasn’t sure who needed it more, me or her, but she felt so small in my arms.
“How are you feeling?” I asked as I perched my butt on the side of the bed, Isla wriggling over to make room.
“I’m sick,” Isla told me like she was telling me what she had for lunch.
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
“I have to stay here and they’re going to make me better. Are you going to be my doctor, Charlotte? Daddy says you’re the best.”
“Did he now?” I asked her, looking at Luke who was lingering in the doorway leaning on the frame with his arms folded.
“I’m not going to be your doctor, Isla. But my friend Doctor Williams is going to look after you.”
“Is Doctor Williams nice?”
“She’s very nice. And she loves to talk about Barbies.”
“She does?”
“Yep. I love Barbies,” Doctor Williams interrupted poking her head in. “Am I interrupting?”
“Not at all. Come on in,” I encouraged, not missing the way Luke went stiff. This was playing havoc with him, not that I could blame him, it couldn’t be easy but if the guy didn’t take a breath, he was going to end up lying in the next bed.
“You must be, Isla? I’ve heard so many nice things about you from Doctor Rowe here,” Lucy started.
“Doctor Rowe?”
“That’s me,” I reminded Isla, nudging her with my shoulder only to hear her giggle.
“But you’re, Charlotte.”
“I’m both. But Doctor Williams here, she’s going to help you get better.”
