her computer, and gave me the room number. “But remember, you can’t go in. She’s not ready for too many visitors, yet. Immediate family only.”
“Of course.” I thanked her and took the elevator up to the next floor.
As I approached the room, I looked through the door’s narrow window and saw—through a sliver of an opening in the curtain that was pulled around the bed—that Alex was sitting at his mother’s bedside. I reached out to turn the door handl e, when a voice startled me.
“Can I help you?”
I turned to see a man in scrubs, about fifty-ish, with greying brown hair, a beard, and glasses. He was sitting a few feet away at a computer terminal mounted to the wall near Mrs. Baxter’s room.
“I’m just here to see a friend.” This guy better not try to get in my way.
“The boy—Alex?”
I nodded.
“I’m Dr. Kline. You wouldn’t happen to be Ember, would you?”
I nodded again, biting my lip. I didn’t like the feeling I was getting from this guy. He wasn’t going to be of any help.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but it’s family only, for right now.”
“I just need to see Alex.”
“I understand, but you see, Alex Baxter left specific instructions with the nurses that you weren’t to be allowed near his mother…or him. It’s right there in the chart.” He pointed to the computer terminal he’d just abandoned.
Just my luck that Mrs. Baxter’s doctor was updating her chart right when I arrive, I thought. “Please, I just want to talk to him. I’ll wait out here, if you could only let him know—”
“He was very specific. And his father supports his request. My hands are tied.”
“Please…you don’t understand…he’s just angry. I just need to talk to him…please, just tell him I’m here.”
I sensed that he was wavering. I turned on the water works, letting the tears flow that I had held back the whole way to the hospital. “Please, doctor…. please?”
He sighed. “Alright. But you can’t go in. Mrs. Baxter’s condition is such that there are no visitors allowed except immediate family. I don’t want you yelling through the door, either. You go wait over at the nurses’ station, and don’t move from there unless I tell you Alex Baxter has agreed. But you have to promise to leave if he refuses to see you.”
“I will, I promise.” Relieved, I turned and walked toward the nurses’ station, halfway down the hall.
Pacing back and forth for what seemed like an eternity, I worried about what Alex might be saying. What is taking so long? Is the doctor arguing on my behalf? Is Alex angry—is the doctor calming him down? I have to know. I strained to listen, but they must have been whispering, because I couldn’t hear anything over the din of the bustling nurses’ station. I sent out my “feelers”, but all I could sense was distress coming from Alex. If there was anger, it wasn’t enough to outweigh his worry over his mother. Does that mean he’s coming around?
From the doctor I could sense curiosity and some kind of excited feelings. I was grateful— he must be arguing in my defense, despite not knowing the context of the disagreement between Alex and I. Either that, or Alex was telling him I was a dangerous person and I should be kept away.
Sometimes, sensing feelings isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
The waiting was killing me. Glancing at the nurses—who were busy entering information into computerized patient charts, answering the phone, or chatting with each other—I stole away and tiptoed down the hallway toward Mrs. Baxter’s room. I sidled up to the door and slowly peeked through the window.
A blur blue scrubs obscured the window, and I jumped back just as the door opened with a soft click, and the doctor slipped through the door and shut it quietly. He turned, startled to see me standing so close.
“I thought I told you to wait over
“Of course.” I thanked her and took the elevator up to the next floor.
As I approached the room, I looked through the door’s narrow window and saw—through a sliver of an opening in the curtain that was pulled around the bed—that Alex was sitting at his mother’s bedside. I reached out to turn the door handl e, when a voice startled me.
“Can I help you?”
I turned to see a man in scrubs, about fifty-ish, with greying brown hair, a beard, and glasses. He was sitting a few feet away at a computer terminal mounted to the wall near Mrs. Baxter’s room.
“I’m just here to see a friend.” This guy better not try to get in my way.
“The boy—Alex?”
I nodded.
“I’m Dr. Kline. You wouldn’t happen to be Ember, would you?”
I nodded again, biting my lip. I didn’t like the feeling I was getting from this guy. He wasn’t going to be of any help.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but it’s family only, for right now.”
“I just need to see Alex.”
“I understand, but you see, Alex Baxter left specific instructions with the nurses that you weren’t to be allowed near his mother…or him. It’s right there in the chart.” He pointed to the computer terminal he’d just abandoned.
Just my luck that Mrs. Baxter’s doctor was updating her chart right when I arrive, I thought. “Please, I just want to talk to him. I’ll wait out here, if you could only let him know—”
“He was very specific. And his father supports his request. My hands are tied.”
“Please…you don’t understand…he’s just angry. I just need to talk to him…please, just tell him I’m here.”
I sensed that he was wavering. I turned on the water works, letting the tears flow that I had held back the whole way to the hospital. “Please, doctor…. please?”
He sighed. “Alright. But you can’t go in. Mrs. Baxter’s condition is such that there are no visitors allowed except immediate family. I don’t want you yelling through the door, either. You go wait over at the nurses’ station, and don’t move from there unless I tell you Alex Baxter has agreed. But you have to promise to leave if he refuses to see you.”
“I will, I promise.” Relieved, I turned and walked toward the nurses’ station, halfway down the hall.
Pacing back and forth for what seemed like an eternity, I worried about what Alex might be saying. What is taking so long? Is the doctor arguing on my behalf? Is Alex angry—is the doctor calming him down? I have to know. I strained to listen, but they must have been whispering, because I couldn’t hear anything over the din of the bustling nurses’ station. I sent out my “feelers”, but all I could sense was distress coming from Alex. If there was anger, it wasn’t enough to outweigh his worry over his mother. Does that mean he’s coming around?
From the doctor I could sense curiosity and some kind of excited feelings. I was grateful— he must be arguing in my defense, despite not knowing the context of the disagreement between Alex and I. Either that, or Alex was telling him I was a dangerous person and I should be kept away.
Sometimes, sensing feelings isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
The waiting was killing me. Glancing at the nurses—who were busy entering information into computerized patient charts, answering the phone, or chatting with each other—I stole away and tiptoed down the hallway toward Mrs. Baxter’s room. I sidled up to the door and slowly peeked through the window.
A blur blue scrubs obscured the window, and I jumped back just as the door opened with a soft click, and the doctor slipped through the door and shut it quietly. He turned, startled to see me standing so close.
“I thought I told you to wait over
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