A Heart for Robbie (8 page)

Liam looked at Clay with a frown.

“Okay, do you have any serious suggestions? If not, I do.”

Damn, Julian had left his notebook and pen in the room. He looked

around and found a small stack of napkins and a hospital pen on a nearby side table. A hardback children’s book from the rack near the door served as a great little table.

“I think,” Liam started and suddenly leaned a bit farther from Clay.

“I think Clay should be Eve’s brother, but they don’t know. Long-lost

siblings or whatever. And then he has the power to manifest.”

Clay started to protest, going so far as to stand up from his chair and

pace.

“Wait, but it’s not as powerful in him. Maybe it’s stronger in girls or

one of his real parents is a part of that family who created the amulet. It’s not a danger per se, but a nuisance.”

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“So, are you going to pull another amulet out of your ass to stop the

power? Last I looked, there was only one,” Clay argued.

“No, I’m thinking that you get together with John, who has an early

ancestor from the family, and he teaches you how to control it.”

“Wait, I get a boyfriend?” A light appeared in Clay’s eyes, one

Julian rarely saw.

“Yep.”

“I’m in.”

Julian took rapid notes. He liked the idea of having a book with gay

main characters. It was rather unprecedented in YA dystopian fiction. If he could get it past his agent and his editor, he wanted to write it.

“Let’s get back to the room so I can start putting some ideas on

paper instead of a napkin,” Julian mumbled. He stood up and tossed the

half empty Diet Pepsi bottle into the garbage. Since he hadn’t touched the Cheetos, he took those with him to save for later. “And guys?”

Liam and Clay stopped and turned to face him, their outlines

glimmering in the low light of the waiting room.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

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Chapter 4

“THE MEETINGS we have today will help to establish Robbie’s eligibility

as a candidate for the national transplant list,” Dr. Dane said, looking around the room at the assembled group where Julian sat with his parents, Paul, and Erin, who had been released from the hospital so she could

attend. On the other side of the table in an almost adversarial division were Dr. Dane, Dr. Martinez, and four men in perfectly pressed suits who had

not yet been introduced.

Liam wasn’t there.

“I think we should start with introductions and then outline how the

day will go. We should be finished before lunch, and then we can let you get back to your son,” Dr. Dane continued, looking at Julian, who nodded politely. “Okay, my name is Dr. Karl Dane, and I am the coordinator for

the transplant program here at St. Mary’s. Of course, to my right is Dr.

Anita Martinez, who is coordinating Robbie’s care as his pediatric

cardiologist. This is Dr. Gupta. He is the transplant surgeon who would be performing Robbie’s surgery. Michael Feinmann is our financial director, Dr. Dennis Hanjin, who will be doing the psychological evaluation, and

Simon Phelps, our insurance coordinator.”

Julian nodded to each person in turn and returned the insurance

coordinator’s tentative smile. Taking a deep breath, he decided he was

ready for this because he had to be. Julian stood up as Dr. Dane had and introduced his family.

Psychological evaluation.

No invisible people.

No characters in the chair next to me.

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“These are my parents, Robert and Linda Holmes, and my best

friends, Paul and Erin Jeffries.” He sat down between his mother and Erin as everyone exchanged pleasantries. His entire body was a live wire,

nerves exposed, and a nagging pain had begun to bore itself into the back of his head. His son’s life depended on the decision of this group of

people, and the pressure forced its way into his shoulder blades. Julian had never felt so alone in a room full of people, and for the first time, he had second thoughts about his decision to become a single father. Never in a million years would he regret becoming a father, but he wondered about

doing it alone.

“Who decorates for these people, Stevie Wonder?” Liam asked as he

appeared and then leaned against the wall to Julian’s left.

Stop.

“Okay, let’s go ahead and get started.”

His family met with the financial director, Mr. Feinmann, first.

Apparently the hospital cared more about his financial solvency than his state of mind. Honestly, he appreciated getting this out of the way first, because his financial status wasn’t a big issue. Julian had a trust from his parents, his own financial stability, and his career as an author. His

insurance broker assured him that his coverage was adequate to satisfy the hospital. For that part of the interview at least, he felt confident. His parents were right by him throughout the whole thing, pledging their

financial support should it become necessary. Once he had his accountant fax his last three tax returns, along with his list of assets, the interview ended pleasantly. Mr. Feinmann seemed to be satisfied with his financial resources.

The next interview, with Dr. Hanjin, the psychologist, had been the

one he looked forward to least. Bypassing the fact he talked to imaginary people and had an irrational fear of odd numbers, which the squat man in his little glasses would never know, Julian already felt selfish for his decision to bring Robbie into the world as a single parent. When he’d

originally made the decision and his mother had been thrilled to provide care for him during the day, it seemed like the perfect solution. However, given Robbie’s medical condition, more and more it seemed like a terrible burden on his elderly parents.

If his selfishness, his orientation, or his quirks gave this man some

reason to deny Robbie the surgery he needed to survive, Julian would

never be able to live with himself.

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“Please, come in,” Dr. Hanjin invited when Mr. Feinmann left them

at the shrink’s door. Julian looked at his mother, and she smiled in

encouragement. The doctor had asked that he bring just one person to the interview. Paul, Erin, and Julian’s father were waiting in the cafeteria, no doubt drinking some of the world’s worst coffee. Julian let his mother

enter first and then took the seat next to her across from the doctor’s desk, like a kid in trouble at school.

“This is always the part that people hate the most,” the doctor said

with a chuckle, and Julian smiled reluctantly. “Let me try to help settle your fears. This isn’t a pass or fail test, and it doesn’t have any perfect answers. We’re just here to make sure you have the resources, both

emotional and physical, to care for a transplant recipient.”

Julian nodded, and his mother spoke up.

“What do you mean by physical resources?” she asked and looked

quickly to her son. He wondered if she worried that he wouldn’t think her qualified to care for Robbie because of her age.

Julian plucked one of the pens from the cup at the front of the desk,

and the thudding in his ears stopped. He smiled apologetically at the

therapist as he tapped it against his leg in a four-part rhythm.

“It just means that Julian has the support system he needs. It’s very

hard to care for a transplant child, especially alone. They require a great deal of aftercare, and it can be very stressful. For example, working full time and caring for a healthy child alone is difficult, but with a sick child, it’s exponentially harder,” he said, and his voice, rather than being

contemptuous, as Julian had expected, sounded sympathetic.

“What would you like to know?” Julian asked, feeling slightly

mollified by the doctor’s lack of judgment for his situation and the pen.

“Let’s start with work. It says here that you’re an author?” he asked,

glancing down at a sheet of paper on his desk as he shuffled through a

stack.

“Yes, which means I’ll be home and available for Robbie whenever

he needs,” Julian assured him, sitting up a little taller in his seat.

“When you have to attend meetings and such, who will care for

Robbie?”

“My meetings are generally online, and I have space in my office for

his play yard. I won’t be working for a while, so it won’t be an issue.

Though I have the means, if I choose, that I wouldn’t have to work at all.”

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“So it would just be you and Robbie alone in the house?” the doctor

asked as he began to take notes on a legal pad next to his large stack of papers. Julian flushed as the heat rose up the back of his neck.

“What exactly are you implying?” he asked the doctor. Straight

people only considered one possibility when a gay man was “alone in the

house” with a little boy, and it infuriated Julian.

“Caring for a sick child is very stressful, and I want to make sure

that you have plans to socialize. Do you have someone else who can care

for Robbie while you go out with friends or take in a movie? Will you and Robbie go for walks to a coffee house to write a few chapters? Those are the types of things I need to know.” The doctor raised a supercilious

eyebrow, and Julian felt sheepish. He’d jumped to exactly the wrong

conclusion.

“Oh, well, yes. My parents are pretty much beside themselves for

spending time with and caring for Robbie. I’m pretty sure that once he

comes home, my mother will want to come and live with me,” Julian said

with a sly smile at his mother, who nodded. “My friend Erin and her

husband have four children, and I’m sure we will socialize with them

often once Robbie’s immune system is able to handle being around the

kids. I also have aunts, uncles, and cousins on both sides of our family who are happy to help out. In fact, my Aunt Marie is a nurse. I’d planned to send her an e-mail later today asking for advice on a few things.

Support from family and friends is very strong.”

The doctor wrote on his little pad for several minutes before moving

on to another subject. Question after question was asked and answered

over the span of an hour. Julian forced himself not to count them. Finally the interview wrapped up with the doctor informing them that he didn’t

see a problem with his aspect of the evaluation. Dr. Hanjin would report to the committee that he considered Julian to be a capable and committed

caregiver for young Robbie.

Julian’s shoulders slumped in relief as he shook the doctor’s hand,

and they waited for one final meeting with the insurance coordinator.

“Mom, why don’t you go down and sit with Dad and Erin. I doubt

I’m going to need any kind of emotional support filling out insurance

paperwork,” Julian said with a tired smile.

“If you’re sure you don’t need me, I’d actually love to go spend

some time with my grandson,” she said with a sly smile, and Julian

laughed.

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“I think that’s a great idea,” Julian admitted. “I’ll be up after things are finished with the insurance.”

Linda patted her son lightly on the arm and then left in the direction

of Robbie’s ICU ward. Julian stayed behind in a small conference room

and waited.

The door of the conference room opened fifteen minutes later, and

Julian looked up to see the young insurance man come through.

“I’m very sorry,” the man apologized, running his fingers through a

shock of short, straight dark brown hair. Warm brown eyes, nearly

obscured by his wire-rimmed glasses, found Julian’s as he held out his

hand in greeting.

“It’s all right. I was rather thankful for the break, to be honest,”

Julian said as he shook the young man’s hand, warm and inviting.

“I can’t even imagine. My name is Simon, and I’ll be working with

you on your insurance coverage,” he said with a tender smile, and Julian nodded. The man’s eyes were incredibly kind, and Julian felt a bit calmer in his presence. His voice, full of hope and promise, left Julian with the impression that Simon wanted to help him, to help Robbie, and that set

him at ease.

“I’m Julian, but I guess since Robbie and I are the star attractions in

this show, you already knew that.”

“I did, but it makes for polite introductions anyway,” Simon said

with a chuckle and stepped back away from the door. “Let’s head to my

office down the hall and we can get everything taken care of.”

Julian stepped through the door of the conference room first but then

followed Simon down the hall. They passed the closed door of the

psychologist’s office, and Julian wondered if the man had found his next victim or if he was merely in there writing reports. Simon caught him