I pick a video from my favorite YouTube Pilates channel, and when I finish that, I start another. Partway through the second video, I hear Drew’s key in the door.
I stand and stop the Pilates video. “That was quick.”
“Yeah, it was just an EVD in the unit,” he says, walking over to sit on the couch. “The resident had everything prepped, we did it bedside.”
I blink at him, because I don’t have a clue what he just said. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” he says, running a hand through his hair. I can tell something’s distracting him, because he’s usually careful not to use medical jargon with me.
He takes in my workout clothes. “You were working out?”
“Yep. I’m done though.”
Drew nods, sighs, and runs his hand through his hair again. “I’ve arranged to see a doctor in Toronto. About the tremor.”
He says it casually, like it’s a throwaway comment, but I’m not fooled. This is what’s been eating him. I wonder when he set this up, and when he’s going, and why he’s telling me now.
“Oh,” I reply. “I think that’s smart. You’ll get some reassurance.” I’ve managed to convince myself that since I haven’t noticed a tremor, there can’t be anything seriously wrong with him.
“That’s the hope,” he says dryly. “Anyway, a neurologist I know is going to see me Saturday morning, as a favor. He’s arranged for me to have an MRI, then he’ll do an exam.”
“Saturday . . . like, in three days’ time?”
“Yeah.” He stares down at the floor. “I wondered if you’d come to Toronto with me.”
“Me?” I blurt.
“Yeah. The hospital’s right next to the Eaton Center, so you could go shopping, and we could go for lunch after. Make a day of it.”
It takes me a minute to process it. Of all the people he could have asked to go with him, he asked me? This seems like a role for a close relative or a best friend. A long-term girlfriend, maybe, but not a girl you’re pretending to date for three months. Or even a girl you’re sleeping with on a casual, time-limited basis.
“It’s fine if you’re busy,” he says, when I don’t answer right away.
“I’m not busy,” I interrupt. “But . . . wouldn’t you rather take someone else, like your sister, or?—”
“I haven’t told Breanna about it,” he interrupts. “It would stress her out. I don’t want to worry her unless there’s actually something to worry about.”
“Ah.” Maybe that’s why he asked me; I’m not close to him like Breanna is. If the news is bad, I won’t be crushed like Breanna would be.
In theory, anyway.
“You can think about it,” he says.
“No, I’ll come,” I tell him. “Of course I’ll come with you, if you’re sure you want me to.”
His shoulders relax a little. “I’m sure.”
“Okay.”
Rather than dwell on the possible outcomes of the appointment in Toronto, I try to focus on practical matters. The first problem is that when I told Drew I wasn’t busy on Saturday, I’d forgotten about Hayley’s graduation. I’ll miss the ceremony in the morning, and I should probably bail on the dinner, too. If Drew gets bad news, I won’t want to have to rush back to Somerset for a family dinner.
I haven’t told Drew about Hayley’s graduation, and I’m definitely not going to mention it now. If I did, he’d tell me not to come to Toronto with him, and I want to be there.
So when I get home from work on Thursday, I gather my courage and call my mother.
“Hi, Ally,” she answers. She sounds happy to hear from me, and I feel guilty that I don’t call more often. “How are you?”
“Fine,” I say, then mentally kick myself. “I mean, overall I’m okay, but right now I have some sort of flu.”
