Chapter 19

ANNA

We hurry into the emergency room, and the receptionist asks us to hold on while she finishes a phone call. Once she hangs up, she turns to us.

“Hello, how can I assist you?” she asks, her gaze landing on James. But I beat him to the punch.

“Hi, we’re here for Olivia Johnson-Brown.”

She nods. “Family?” she inquires.

“I’m her mom, this is her dad, and those two behind me are my parents,” I explain.

It’s the truth. And if I know anything about Becca or Jack, it’s that they’d bulldoze their way through that door if they were denied entry. Maybe I’m more like them than I initially thought.

“Alright, she’s in the third bed on the right. Dr. Brown and a nurse are with her.” I nod in response.

“Thank you.”

I dash through the doors and head straight for bed three. I pull back the curtains and see her lying in that bed again, but this time she doesn’t look as bad.

“We made it in time.” I let out a sigh of relief.

“Mama?” she murmurs, opening her eyes.

“Hi, Lovebug,” I greet her, taking a seat next to her.

“Hi, Jess.”

“Hi, sweetheart. We got here as quickly as we could.”

“It’s okay. I guess the meds aren’t working. I need to get Dr. Oliver Turner here. Dr. Frank is also on his way,” I update her.

Jess stands up. “I’ll get him down here,” she promises, then walks away.

“Thank you.”

“Daddy?” Olivia asks in her weak voice.

“Hi princess, how are you feeling?” James asks her.

“Pain in my chest,” she admits, rubbing her chest.

“I know, baby. We’re going to find a doctor who can help you. Mama might have figured out what’s been happening with you.”

“Really?” she asks, turning her gaze to me.

I nod at her. “Hopefully, you’ll start feeling better soon.”

She closes her eyes again and drifts off to sleep. I plant a kiss on her forehead, then James does the same. He also kisses my forehead, making me smile.

I glance at Jack and Becca. Becca is in tears, and Jack is holding her close. This might have been a bit too overwhelming for her. It’s as if she was being honest, but now all her defenses are down.

Once the defenses are down, the emotions flood in. Jack leads Becca away from the scene. He gives me a knowing look—she’s on the verge of breaking down.

We wait a few more minutes, sitting next to Olivia, until the doctor finally arrives.

He doesn’t look a day over forty. A bit cocky—he’s well aware of his good looks. And he’s not wrong. He has bright blue eyes, blond hair, and a well-built physique. But he’s not as attractive as James.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Oliver Turner,” he introduces himself, glancing up from his folder.

“I was sent here by Dr. Brown,” he adds, sounding slightly irritated.

I nod at him and get off the bed. “I’m Anna,” I introduce myself.

“~You’re~ the mother?” he asks, giving me a once-over.

~This jerk is checking me out.~

~

He licks his upper lip. Oh God, he’s going to make me sick. But if he’s the best for Olivia, then I’ll deal with it.

“Yes,” I confirm, crossing my arms. He meets my gaze, still checking me out. His eyes slowly drop to my chest.

“Oliver, cut it out. She’s twenty-one for Christ’s sake,” Jack warns him.

“Jack?” he asks, surprised. He greets Jack with a friendly slap on the back. “What brings you here?”

“I’m here with Anna and her daughter Olivia,” he retorts, shooting him a death glare.

“You know, the sick kid, lying in the bed? The one you should probably be helping?” he adds angrily. He’s got a fierce side. But I kind of appreciate his protective nature.

“And stop ogling my damn daughter!”

“It’s okay,” I assure him, trying to defuse the situation.

“No, it’s not, Anna. It’s revolting. He’s my childhood best friend,” he says, shaking his head and shuddering in disgust.

“James gets it,” he adds, pointing at James. James nods in agreement.

“Jack, you have a daughter?”

“Yeah, I do,” he confirms proudly.

“Since when?”

“Technically, for twenty-one years, but he only found out this afternoon. I only found out this morning,” I answer for him.

“Oh, okay…” Dr. Oliver looks up and faces James.

A smile spreads across his face as he recognizes him.

“James Brown, it’s been a while. Still hung up on that girl?” he asks him.

“Nope, I’ve got her right here,” he says, pointing at me. I shake my head—so subtle.

“So you are ~that~ Anna.”

“I suppose so,” I respond. I step closer and narrow my eyes at him.

“Now, Dr. Turner, can you do your job and help my daughter?”

“Dr. Frank sent you her file. He’s on his way, and he told me to tell you not to give her any more antibiotics,” I tell him in a firm voice that leaves no room for argument.

I’m fed up with all the chit-chat. Let’s get on with the treatment. She’s sick, for Christ’s sake, and he’s just standing here catching up with everyone.

“Yup, that’s your daughter alright,” Dr. Oliver jokes to Jack, who chuckles as well. I’m glad he finds this amusing.

“But who’s your mom?” he asks me as he checks his phone for Frank’s email.

Becca returns to our little corner of the world, her eyes rimmed red from crying. She wraps an arm around Jack, who pulls her in close, pressing a kiss to her temple.

~They’re good together.~

~

“Hey, what’d I miss?” Becca asks, glancing around at the rest of us crammed into the tiny space.

“Her,” I say, nodding towards Becca as I address Dr. Turner.

He swivels his head to look at her and his face drains of color. “Becca Johnson?” he stammers, as if he’s just seen a ghost.

“Hi, Oliver.”

“Wait—” he starts, but Jack cuts him off.

“No more waiting, just do your damn job!” Jack snaps. Oliver grumbles under his breath, but he turns his attention back to the patient at hand.

“So that’s what I missed,” Becca says, a note of finality in her voice.

I can’t help but smile, rolling my eyes at her. She shoots me a knowing look in return.

It’s like she can read my mind without me having to say a word.

Oliver gets to work, running a series of tests. He draws some blood, conducts a breathing test, all the standard ER procedures.

“So her airway is a bit blocked, which explains the chest pain. She’s already on antibiotics and they’re not helping, so we need to dig a little deeper.

“Any family history of lung diseases?” he asks.

“Yeah, that’s why we’re here in the first place, to figure out the family history. CF and Alpha-1 run in the family,” I tell him. He nods, processing the information.

I can see the gears turning in his head. He’s in full doctor mode now, which is a relief.

“Okay, the MRI from Seattle is only a week old and doesn’t show any damage, so if it’s CF, it’s either hiding or in a very early stage. I’m going to be blunt with you, Anna,” he says.

He places a hand on my shoulder. I swallow hard. This can’t be good.

“I don’t think it’s CF. Her symptoms just don’t line up. I suspect it might be cancer-related.”

Tears well up in my eyes. “But they said it wasn’t. They promised it wasn’t,” I protest weakly.

He shakes his head.

“I can’t say for sure, but my gut tells me it’s cancer. I know this is hard to hear, especially if you were told cancer was off the table.

“But CF is brutal and painful, and her cough doesn’t sound like a CF cough. I need to do a biopsy to confirm my suspicions,” he says, his voice gentle.

“Do it,” I tell him, my voice firm. “Do whatever you need to do.”

“We’ll need you to fill out some insurance forms and other paperwork. I’ll have the nurses admit her to the pediatric ward, and I’ll order all the necessary tests.”

“Okay, thank you.”

A nurse hands me the forms and I start filling them out. James’s information, my information, all the necessary details.

I hand the completed forms back to the nurse as we make our way to Liv’s room in the pediatric ward.

“I have a feeling we’re going to be here a while, James. Definitely longer than Monday.”