DESPITE HIS CYNICISM, Noah was impressed with the film crew. They stayed out of everyone’s way as much as possible, and even on the rare occurrence where they were asked to move some equipment or had to leave a room, they did so with polite speed.
The producer and crew were certainly respectful of his time and obligations. If he was called away to an emergency or because another doctor needed his opinion, they patiently waited until he was able to return.
It was, much more than he had expected it to be, a positive experience. But it was made all the more so by Tessa’s presence. At least until he noticed how friendly one of the crew members was becoming with her.
He first noticed it in the middle of his second interview on camera. He was asked to explain leukemia in layman’s terms. He’d begun by saying, “White blood cells are the good guys, the body’s knights in shining armor. They fight off infection and disease. But with ALL, the white blood cells don’t mature. They’re like untrained soldiers in the body’s system who haven’t been trained to fight. So more and more of them start crowding out the mature white blood cells, the knights. When this happens, the body doesn’t have enough of the good guys to battle infections, so eventually, something as simple as a cold can cause…death.” He faltered on the last word, thinking of Ginny. Something simple. That was how she’d died. It wasn’t the cancer that had killed her, in the end. It was a minor infection that her body had not been equipped to handle.
He blinked and realized he’d been asked another question. But when he tried to focus, he noticed Tyler, the lighting technician, leaning in close to Tessa, whispering something in her ear. She laughed, her nose crinkling in that adorable way it did when she was amused by something, and he felt the sting of jealousy. He wasn’t good at making people laugh. He never had been, and after Ginny’s death, he never would be. He wasn’t witty or clever. He couldn’t tell jokes to save his life—he was too dry and droll. And it had never bothered him. Not once.
Until that moment. What in the world had this guy said to make her smile like that? She whispered something back, and Tyler laughed quietly in return, his body vibrating with humor. Noah scowled in their direction.
“Dr. Brennan?”
His attention snapped back to the producer.
“I’m sorry?”
“I asked if you could talk about the warning signs of ALL and then discuss what symptoms Zoe had when she came to the hospital.”
“Oh. Right. Of course.” He did his best to speak coherently, listing the symptoms that were easily misdiagnosed due to their subtlety. He then tried to expound more on what blood tests could reveal. But he talked on autopilot, his attention fixed on Tessa as she and Tyler continued to speak some distance away.
Whatever the other man was saying, Tessa had to lean in to hear. Her face was frustratingly close to his. What were they talking about? Was it something to do with the series? Then why not have Noah or her sister present?
A little voice reminded him that it was none of his business what Tessa spoke about, or to whom. His goal had been to keep a wall between them, wasn’t it? Not that agreeing to do this series would help with that. He should be making an effort to see less of Tessa, not more. And he certainly shouldn’t be irritated that some other guy was talking to her. It wasn’t as if she was dating him.
His heart tripped over itself at the thought. What would it be like to date Tessa Worth? He’d never dated much before marrying Julia. He’d had a couple of high school girlfriends, but he’d met Julia in college, and there’d been no one else after that. The reminder of Julia brought a familiar pang of regret. He still missed her, but those emotions—the love and affection he’d felt for her—had been tempered over time by the grief they’d shared. Their relationship at the end had been a mire of despair. He’d lost Julia long before she took her own life. He’d spent too many long hours and late nights at the hospital, and when he was home, his mind was on Ginny.
He had failed his wife over and over, and the memories of his love for her were far in the past. But still, they had shared a child, and he had needed her after that loss. And she’d needed him. He wished she’d reached out to him. He would have moved heaven and earth to help her deal with her grief and avoid the decision she’d made to take her own life.
“Why don’t we take a break?”
It took him several seconds to refocus his attention on the cameraman and producer before him. He realized he’d trailed off some minutes before. He wondered how long they’d been trying to get his attention before making this announcement.
“Oh. I’m sorry—”
“It’s fine, Doc. Don’t worry about it. You’ve got a lot going on. We get that.” The producer for this project, Nia, was a short young woman, one half of her head shaved while the other fell in a long, dark curtain down the side of her face. She was intelligent and respectful. He liked her.
“It’s okay. We’ve got some good footage here. We can follow up with you later.” She turned to her crew. “Let’s take lunch, guys.”
The group relaxed, putting down their equipment and walking away. His eyes wandered involuntarily back to Tessa and Tyler. They were still in conversation, and he felt that annoying sting of jealousy again. He chafed at his own reaction. He didn’t want a relationship with anyone. It was too great a risk and too much of a distraction. So why did he want to go over there right now and insert himself between Tessa and this guy?
He decided to check in on Zoe. She was doing well with this initial phase of treatment, but he also wanted to ensure the film crew wasn’t taxing her. She was in her room, a tray of lunch in front of her while Weston sat beside her, encouraging her to eat.
“Hey,” Noah greeted as he entered the room.
Weston looked happy to see him. “Hi, Dr. Brennan.”
“Weston, you can call me Noah. I’ve told you, I prefer it.”
The man was unfailingly polite. Noah couldn’t always say the same for his wife, but Paige was obviously trying. Her interactions with him had improved dramatically over the last couple of days.
“Paige is in the commons, getting something to eat,” Weston said.
Noah frowned. “We can always have food brought to the room for you. You don’t have to go all the way to the cafeteria.”
Weston shrugged. “I think she wanted a break.”
Noah understood. Sometimes, parents just needed to take a step away, to breathe, to not have to keep a mask on in front of the patient. It took a toll, being strong for a child. Noah knew. He’d lived it.
“Why don’t you go join her?” he suggested. “Zoe and I can hang out here for a bit. Right, Zoe?”
The little girl brightened at this. “Just you and me?”
“Sure. If you don’t mind my company.”
She beamed, her pleasure radiating past her pale skin and bruised arms. “Yes, please.”
“Are you sure, sweetheart?” Weston asked. “Mom and I will just be downstairs. We’ll be back soon.”
“I’m okay, Daddy,” she assured him. “Dr. Noah’s here.”
Her confidence re-centered him. It was so easy for children to maintain hope. At what point had he lost that? Although, the death of his hope had probably been a gradual thing, defeated by each blow of loss and failure he’d endured.
Weston left the room, and Noah took his seat by Zoe’s bedside. He studied the uneaten items on her lunch tray.
“I take it we are not a fan of pudding?” He pointed to the untouched dish.
She wrinkled her nose. It wasn’t uncommon for leukemia patients to experience a diminished appetite as the results of the chemo, the various medications and even their environment. The hospital made every effort, especially on the children’s floors, to create a warm and hospitable atmosphere. Even so, it was unfamiliar terrain. The change in routine sometimes affected their eating habits just as much as their treatments. Still, it was important for them to eat.
“How about we share these pretzels?” he suggested, reaching for the bowl.
He’d found that kids were more responsive to the idea of a shared meal. He grabbed a pretzel and waited until Zoe picked one up, too. She nibbled at it, watching him. He crunched into his, and she imitated him, taking a bigger bite. His eyes wandered briefly to the door, wondering if Tessa was still with Tyler. Maybe he’d invited her to lunch. The thought turned the pretzel tasteless in his mouth.
Zoe struggled through the pretzel and then placed her hand back in her lap.
“How are you feeling?” he questioned.
She shrugged and stared at the remains of her lunch. Noah popped the other half of the pretzel into his mouth and reached for a second. Zoe mimicked his movements but didn’t take a bite. Noah turned the pretzel in his fingers, suddenly feeling awkward. He dealt with children on a daily basis, but Zoe was different. She was Tessa’s niece, and he was acutely aware of that connection.
“Are you excited about being on the hospital website?” he asked.
This question perked her up. She nodded and even took a small bite of her pretzel.
“I heard you did a really good job on your first interview.”
She straightened even more, her smile widening. He popped the whole pretzel in his mouth, just as Zoe asked, “Are you going to marry Aunt Tessa?”
The surprise of her question caused him to start and the pretzel lodged in his throat. He sputtered for several seconds, working to dislodge the obstruction and regain his composure. He had to grab one of the paper cups from the counter and fill it with water from the tap, gulping desperately until he was finally able to get the pretzel down.
When he turned around, Zoe was staring at him, her eyes wide and innocent.
“Your face is red,” she observed.
“It’s because of the pretzel,” he rasped out, unwilling to consider that her question about Tessa had caused the color.
“Well? Are you?”
His eyes flicked to the door, hoping no one was listening in to their conversation. He had a limited view of the hall, but it was empty. He returned to his seat by the bed.
“Your aunt and I are just colleagues.”
Zoe’s face twisted into an expression of confusion. “Collies?”
“Colleagues. Coworkers. We work together,” he scrambled to explain. “That’s all.”
“But you came to dinner at Aunt Harper’s house,” she pointed out.
“Yes. Well, that was… We were… I…” He fumbled for an explanation that Zoe would understand. He certainly couldn’t tell her about his past, or the fact that he wasn’t willing to risk his heart again. “We’re just…friends,” he offered.
Zoe narrowed her eyes, clearly not buying this excuse.
“Why are you so sad all the time?”
He had forgotten how blunt children could be. It had been too long since he’d held a conversation with a child that didn’t involve reassurances about treatments and protocols.
“What makes you think I’m sad?” he asked.
Zoe was quiet for a moment, considering the question. “You don’t smile,” she finally answered. “And your eyes, they’re like Rufus’s.”
The observation startled him. “Like Rufus’s?”
“Yeah. Tessa took me to the animal place, when she worked there, and Rufus had just come to stay. When she showed him to me, his tail wagged, but his eyes were really sad. Aunt Tessa said he’d had a hard life and needed someone to love him.”
Noah sat there, stunned by the little girl’s keen observation. He touched the watch on his wrist, thinking of Ginny and how much she had known that he hadn’t given her credit for. She’d known she was dying. He remembered her hand in his, tiny and pale in the larger span of his palm. She’d been so weak, but it seemed to comfort her when he held her hand like that. She’d looked at him out of eyes that were a faded gray, so similar to his own but with the light slowly ebbing from them.
“Smile for me, Daddy,” she’d whispered.
It had taken the last of his diminished emotional strength to offer her a weak and watery grin. And it had taken every ounce of hers to reach up and touch her finger to the tears that had been rolling down his face, smile notwithstanding.
She’d slipped into a coma soon after that, and within twenty-four hours, she’d been gone. That was his last moment with his little girl: her request for his smile. He remembered thinking at the funeral that she had taken it with her when she left. He hadn’t believed he’d ever find it again.
But then Tessa had come along with her gentle strength and quiet understanding. And for the first time since Ginny had slipped away, he’d found himself smiling again. At least for a little while.
“Are you in love with Aunt Tessa?”
Zoe’s question drew him from his memories. Her voice was tired.
“You should rest, Zoe,” he murmured, reaching out to smooth a hand over her hair. Several strands came free in his fingers.
Her eyelids were heavy, but she obviously wasn’t done yet. “She loves you,” she said, the words weighted with growing exhaustion. Despite how softly she spoke them, for Noah, they were as loud as a shout.
“How do you know?” he asked, embarrassed to be asking such a question of a six-year-old but desperate to hear the answer.
“Because Aunt Tessa doesn’t smile that much anymore, either. But she does when she’s with you.”
Noah reached out and grasped Zoe’s hand in his own. He looked at their joined fingers.
He would give anything to hold Ginny’s hand once more. But his little girl was gone. Maybe it was time to learn to smile again. Because wherever she was right now, surely she would see it. Surely she would know that his love for her would never fade.
“Rest, Zoe. Everything will be all right.”
Zoe’s lips twitched into a smile as her breathing deepened. Noah held her hand for a very long time, anchoring himself to a life he hadn’t felt he deserved as he finally let go of the daughter he’d lost.