007: Soaking It All In

 

Leon woke up and the first thing he said was “I'm hungry.”

Not hello. Not mommy. Not where am I or what happened or why does my arm feel funny. Just that. Evelyn was out of the chair in seconds. Two days of barely sleeping had not slowed her down at all. She was just suddenly upright, eyes on him.

He blinked at her.

She blinked back.

“Hi, Mommy,” he said.

“Hi baby,” Her voice came out smaller than she meant it to. She sat on the edge of the bed and touched his face — his cheek, his forehead, his chin, just checking. Just making sure he was all there. "How do you feel?'

"Hungry," he said again.

"Besides hungry."

He thought about it. "My arm feels weird.”

'That's the tube. It's giving you medicine.'

He looked at it. Turned his arm slightly to see it better. "Does it have to stay?"

"For a little while."

"Okay." He looked back at her. Just like that — okay. No fuss, no crying, just okay. He had always been like that. Even as a baby he had taken things in and sat with them. "Can I have food now?"

"Let me ask the nurse what you're allowed."

"I want the pasta from home."

"Leon —"

"With the red sauce. Not the white one."

"You can’t have pasta from home right now, you’re in hospital. But if you get better, we’d go home and I’d make you the best pasta ever."

He looked around the room as if he had only just noticed. The machines. The colored walls. He took it all in and then he looked back at her with a very serious expression.

"This is a sad room," he said.

"It's a hospital room."

"Same thing." He reached over and picked up the small green dinosaur from the pillow beside him. Held it against his chest. "Gerald doesn’t like it here either."

"And Gerald told you that?"

"He didn't have to. I could tell."

Evelyn looked at her boy, her whole heart, sitting in a hospital bed in a gown two sizes too big holding a plastic dinosaur and negotiating with her about pasta — and she felt the tears come before she could stop them. Not many. Just two, fast and quiet, that she wiped away before he could see.

He saw anyway.

"Mommy." He reached out and patted her hand. Three small pats. The way she did to him when he was upset. "It’s okay. I’m okay."

"I know," she said. "I know you are."

"Don’t cry."

"I'm not crying."

He looked at her face. "Your eyes are doing the wet thing."

"That’s just… I’m tired, baby."

"You should sleep then."

"I will."

"You always say that and then you don’t."

She laughed. Just a small one.

**************************************

The nurse brought Leon a small bowl of plain rice and some broth and he ate it without complaining, which told Evelyn more about how tired his body still was than any monitor in the room. Leon always complained about food he didn’t like. The fact that he ate quietly and without commentary meant he was running low.

He fell back asleep halfway through the broth.

Just like that. Spoon in his hand, eyes closing, and to sleep

Evelyn took the bowl gently. Set it aside. Pulled the blanket up to his chin and tucked Gerald in beside him.

Then she sat back in the chair and let herself be still.

She had not let herself fall apart since the call to the hospital. There had been no time and no space and she was not someone who fell apart in public anyway — not even in front of Zara, or Daniel. She kept things inside and handled them and moved on and she was very good at it.

But right now it was just her and her sleeping boy and nobody watching.

She pressed both hands over her face.

She breathed.

In. Out. In.

She thought about the doctor’s words from yesterday. The father’s history. Before the next episode.

She thought about Aidan standing in the hospital corridor with that look on his face — that open, alarmed look she had not been prepared for because she had only ever prepared herself for his cold face, the face he had worn the night he threw her out.

She had not prepared for him looking like he cared.

She dropped her hands. Looked at Leon.

"What do I do?" she whispered.

*******************************

Aidan was sitting on the floor of his hotel room.

Not the chair. Not the bed. The floor, with his back against the foot of the bed and his legs stretched out and his laptop open in front of him. He had been there for three hours. He wasn’t sure how that had happened.

Priya knocked at two.

"You missed the call with the London team," she said through the door.

"I know."

"They rescheduled for tomorrow."

"Fine."

A pause.

"Sir, are you on the floor?"

"No."

"It definitely sounds like you’re on the floor, sir. Is everything okay?"

"I’m working."

"From the floor?"

"Priya."

"I'm going to get us food. Do you want the risotto or the —"

"Whatever you're having is fine."

He heard her footsteps move away down the corridor.

He looked back at the laptop screen. He had three tabs open. He'd told himself they were for research. For due diligence on the LUXE acquisition. But the tabs had nothing to do with LUXE. They were medical pages. Articles about possible conditions in children that could cause collapsing. He wasn't sure when he had opened them.

He found nothing informative so he closed the laptop.

He sat in the quiet of the room for a while. Then he stood up, put his coat on, and went out.

Only one location in his mind. He told his driver to take to that hospital. He didn’t know why but he couldn’t change his mind.

He walked into the lobby, found the reception desk, and asked — quietly, carefully — if there was a nurse available on the paediatric ward. Not a doctor. A nurse.

A young woman came down ten minutes later. She looked at him with the polite, guarded expression of hospital staff.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm sorry to bother you," Aidan said. "There's a boy…. in your ward. Leon. He was brought in two days ago."

Her expression didn't change. "Sir, I can't discuss patients with —"

"I'm not asking for details." He kept his voice low. "I just — I was there when it happened. I was nearby. I wanted to know if he was okay."

She studied him for a moment.

"He's stable," she said finally. Just that.

"Is it — is it something serious? What kind of illness?"

She looked at him carefully. "His mother is with him," she said. "He's being looked after. If you don’t mind, I'm really busy."

“Sure thing.” Aidan said.

She turned and walked back to the elevator.

Aidan stood in the lobby.

Stable. That was something. Not what he wanted but that was enough.

And with a deep breath, He turned to leave.