“He was unconscious,” Hope inserts from her perch beside the couch in his room. “That’s a concussion, by definition! He’s not all right.”
Dr. Tailfeathers takes a look at Dax’s head, then his eyes. Then she says, “Was it like that time you fell out of the tree? Or more like when you hit your thumb with the hammer in shop class?”
“The thumb,” he says readily. “You remember that?”
She sighs and pats his shoulder. “I rememberevery single bump and bruise you boys had.” She looks over at Hope. “The good news is that he’s just a lightweight when it comes to shock. I think his passing out was a vasovagal response, not a concussion. Either way, I’m going to recommend you avoid screens for a few days?—”
“Not a problem, my phone was stolen,” he says cheerfully. “I’m waiting on a new one anyway.”
“Stay off horses?—”
He makes a face.
She laughs. “And get lots of sleep. Go to bed early tonight, take a nap tomorrow. Let your brain recover from its bump, or its shock, whichever it was. But I would bet money on just shock.”
Hope pulls out her phone and over her shoulder, I can see her searching up vasovagal response.
In the kitchen, the kettle starts whistling. Dr. Tailfeathers gets up. “Thank you as always for an entertaining house call. I’m going to go enjoy some of your mother’s tea now.”
As soon as she’s gone, Hope apologizes to my brotheragain.
He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I was just so sure you were a threat.”
“I’m big.”
She worries her lower lip. “It’s not just that. I wouldn’t just hit you forthat.”
“I’m sure he gave you quite a scare,” I interject.
She turns to me and nods. “He was muttering something like,where the fuck are you?”
I glare at him. “Dax?!”
He tips his head back and laughs. “Jesus, that must have been terrifying. I was looking for my gum.”
“Your gum?”
“I quit smoking a few months ago. Stress makesme want it, so I’ve been chewing a lot of gum. Couldn’t find the pack I thought I put in my pocket.”
She buries her face in her hands.
I rub her back. “It’s all right. All’s well that ends well. Baby boy here doesn’t even have a concussion.”
“It’s not funny,” she mumbles.
Dax and I just grin at each other.
“It’s a little funny,” I promise her.
He gets up and stretches his legs. “I’m going to go have some tea with Mom and the Doc. Don’t hit me when I come back. I’ll be the big guy muttering to himself.”
Hope groans again.
As soon as he’s gone, I bring up something that has been spinning in my mind. “How would you feel about Dr. Tailfeathers doing a prenatal appointment for you here?”
“I don’t think that’s necessary yet.”
