“Will it hurt?”Olly says, nervously.
“It’s just a picture,” I say, lightly rustling his hair.
“I’ll tend to the wound first,” the doctor says.“A popsicle will help.What’s your favorite flavor?”
“Um, cherry,” he whimpers.
“Coming right up,” the doctor says, rising from his stool.
“Thanks, Doc,” I say as he leaves.My hand slips around Venus’s waist.“Will you stay with him for a minute?I need to make some calls.”
She nods weakly, though she looks unsure—I don’t know if it’s over worries about Olly or this gigantic, sink or swim, shove into parenting.
All I know for sure is how I feel—impressed, comforted, and even more in love with her.
With a short peck on her forehead, I whisper, “Everything’s okay.”
Then, I step into the hallway to let his mom and grandmother know what’s happened.
CHAPTER45
Venus
My fearsand anxieties dissipate under Henry’s soft gaze as he kisses my forehead.Everything’s okay.He steps out of the curtained room just as the doctor returns with a cherry popsicle wrapped in a paper towel.Olly is pleased and distracted.
He arranges his tray to prepare for the sutures.He cleans and flushes the wound with saline and then applies a numbing cream.
“Mom, mind coming over here?”the doctor says, pointing to the opposite side of the bed.“Olly might need you.”
I don’t bother correcting him—Henry didn’t the first time he made the error.I decide to act as a surrogate in Carly’s absence, hoping she wouldn’t mind.I sit on the bed behind Olly, and he leans against me like I’m his reading pillow.
“Will it hurt?”he asks weepily, handing me his popsicle trash.I toss it in the nearest receptacle and wipe the drippings from his mouth.
“Yes,” I answer, “but it’s nothing you can’t handle.The doctor must close the wound to stop the bleeding and promote healing.”
“Will I have a scar?”
“Maybe.”
“Just like you.That’d be cool,” he says.
“Yes, scars are cool.But getting them isn’t fun.Next time you want to climb a tree, ask me to spot you.Okay?”
“Okay, sorry, Venus.”
“Accidents happen.Don’t apologize.”
“Do you think Dad’ll let me go camping again?”
“Yes, of course,” I assure him.
“Okay, this’ll hurt a bit,” the doctor warns.“Hold on to Mango, and, um, Venus.”
Olly presses his weight against me and closes his eyes.He whimpers as the doctor works, but stays still and brave.I imagine this is what having a child is like—a constant tug-of-war between love and fear.I understand Henry better now, with all of his worries and what-ifs.I feel them, too.I hate that Olly’s in pain, but at the same time, I tear up over how well he’s taking it and the adventurous, curious spirit that landed him here, all his brilliance and potential and tender-heartedness.I barely know Olly, but I love him—love that physically hurts in this moment, hurts when he hurts.
The evidence is overwhelming that he and Henry are my family—one I can’t be thousands of miles away from.
“That should do it,” the doctor announces.“You’re my bravest patient today, Olly.Good job.”
