—Don’t get too busy that you forget to eat. If you need anything, let me know. Still in Boston with Priya having a drink.—
That last bit was to show him she wasn’t sitting around mooning over him. Even though she was.
She’d barely put the phone back on the table when it vibrated. Priya grinned as Carli swiped her finger over the screen.
—You’re the best. I’d much rather be with you.—
Showing it to Priya, Carli couldn’t help but smile. Her friend folded her arms over her chest and nodded. “See? I told you. Now, let’s order some food. The last thing we need is for both of us to get lightheaded with these drinks.”
They signaled the waitress and ordered food and another drink. Her mood had improved with Blake’s text, but somewhere in the back of her mind the doubt crows lingered. Perhaps it was time to get a scarecrow.
Annie looked up when Harrison came into the family room. As usual, she was playing with Parker on the floor. It was something he never remembered his mother doing. Oh, she’d made sure they had the best educational toys and most fashionable baby clothes, but getting on her hands and knees and cooing wasn’t really her thing.
“Hey, honey. You’re home earlier than usual. You’ve been working late the past few weeks. Is everything okay at the office?”
As he leaned against the arm of the couch, he thought about his job. It was the same. Lots of work, with his father pushing more and more every day. For more production, less overhead, more effort and work hours from everyone, including Harrison. And, of course, the implants.
“I’ve been putting in extra hours now, so I’ll be able to take time off later.”
Annie’s eyes met his and an affectionate smile crossed her face. That hadn’t been the case lately.
“To spend with us, or are we going somewhere?”
Shaking his head, he waved at Parker. “For when he gets the implants. I assume you’ll want me there for the surgery and a few days after.”
“Of course, I’d want you there. How could you even think that was optional? But we still have three months of the hearing aid trial before we need to make any decisions.”
“Three months of waiting uselessly.”
Annie’s eyes turned cold, and she stood, making sure Parker was busy playing with his squishy blocks. Her hands planted on her hips as she stalked closer.
“Any time with our son is not useless.”
He caught himself, just, from rolling his eyes. “That isn’t what I meant. It’s simply a waste of time waiting for the full six months when we know he’ll need them.”
“And who’s making that decision? Because I thought both of us would weigh in on whether or not we allow a doctor to cut our baby’s head open.”
“Stop being so dramatic, Annie. Thousands of people get these implants all the time.” Why did she have to make this so difficult?
“Yeah, and some of them don’t work. Other children have seizures or facial tics permanently. I’m not sure I’m willing to take that chance with Parker.”
Rubbing his eyes, he said, “We’ve talked about this. In order for him to have the most chance of a successful life, he needs to be able to hear.”
“Yes, and we’ve also talked about the fact cochlear implants do not fix deafness.” Her voice had risen higher, which was uncharacteristic for his wife.
“Well, we have to do something,” he growled. “We can’t leave him like he is.”
“There’s nothing wrong with him the way he is. He’s absolutely perfect.”
“Tell that to my parents!” he roared. He’d had enough of this. Fighting with his wife was giving him an ulcer.
Parker started to cry, and Annie rushed over to pick him up.
“See what you did. You’re upsetting him.” She gritted her teeth, her tone softer but no less determined.
“I’m not doing a darn thing to him. He can’t hear me, Annie.” Dear God, how he wished the child could. He’d do anything to make his son better, perfect the way his father wanted all his children and grandchildren. Another failure on his part.
Rubbing Parker’s back, she cradled him to her chest. “The hearing aids are helping him. I know you don’t think so, but I can tell they are. He might not be able to hear everything exactly, but he’s responding to some things. Maybe if you were home once in a while, you’d realize this.”
