Page 113 of Goode Tidings

Eden

"All done," the doctor says.

My heart climbs back up into my chest. I thought for certain something was wrong. Maybe the good doctor could aim for a less morose facial expression for his next patient.

"Everything went as expected. Oliver will be taken to recovery, and a nurse will be along soon to take you back to see him." He assesses the big group, then says, "Family only." He spares a glance at Callum and says, "Go outside to fight. The staff has enough on their plate, they don't need to be cleaning up the waiting area before the cleaning crew arrives tonight."

The doctor leaves.

I look at Justin, who's already looking at me. "I can't believe you," he says.

"Please stop," I say in a low voice.

But he won't. "In the whole world, Callum is the last person I would want you with."

I look Justin over. There are reminders of Oliver in the shape of his eyebrows, the slope of his nose. If it weren't for our son, I would have nothing to do with Justin. Ever. "Your opinion about this? Your feelings about it? They don't carry any weight. I don't know why you think they should."

Justin stands. Tosses what's left of his coffee in a trash can, and strides outside.

Klein comes with me to see Oliver.

Justin is nowhere to be found. Unsurprising, yet it manages to be disappointing anyway. That's the funny thing about hope—it's stubborn.

I'd let myself envision the look on Oliver's face when his mom and dad walked in to see him in recovery. He'll never know what he missed out on, but I will. It breaks my heart, just a little.

A kind nurse walks in front of us, leading us to Oliver. "Don't expect too much," she advises. "I've seen sweet kids come out of anesthesia and be mean as hell, and hellions come out acting like angels."

"So the moral of the story is to be ready for anything."

The nurse nods. "And try not to get your feelings hurt. Sometimes they say weird things."

"Got it." I reach for my brother's hand and give it a grateful squeeze. Thanks for being here with me. I think he knows what I'm saying, because he squeezes back.

The nurse pulls aside a curtain, and there he is. My baby. So big, but still a child. A teenager, but only barely.

His head rests on the pillow, hair floppy, eyes closed.

"He's awake," the nurse says. "But groggy. Come find me at the nurses station if you need anything. I'll be monitoring his heart rate and breathing." She backs away, the soft metallic drag of the curtain hooks on the rod the only sound.

Klein and I share a glance. Neither of us has a lot of experience in hospitals. The only time I was in one was to deliver Oliver.

I take a tentative step, and Oliver opens his eyes. "Mom?"

"Hey, buddy," I say, the smile on my lips clearly coming through in my voice. "How ya feeling?"

"Weird. And I'm thirsty."

"I'll ask the nurse if he can have water," Klein says.

"Uncle Klein?" Oliver turns a heavy head toward Klein.

"Hey, dude." Klein waves.

"Did you come here for me?"

Klein's smile wavers. He's such a softie when it comes to Oliver. "Of course. Someone has to take you for a massive ice cream treat like the old days."

Oliver smiles, but it takes effort.