AS TAYLOR DROVE EVAN TO THE PEDIATRICIAN’S, DIRE SCENARIOS filled her mind, tying her stomach up in knots. When they arrived, the waiting room was crowded, and she hated to put Evan down, worried that he might leave with something worse than what he came in with as coughs and sneezes filled the air. She held tight to his hand as she went up to the receptionist and gave their name, hoping she could get him into the well room before he saw a toy in the main room that beckoned to him.
She rubbed his back as she waited for the receptionist to run her insurance card, and he laid his head on her shoulder, sucking his thumb. He didn’t seem remotely interested in exploring the waiting room, which worried her more now than the possibility of his catching something. She tried to put him down, but he started to cry so she sat, still holding him, praying silently that the doctor would find some benign explanation for his sudden fatigue.
When the nurse called their names, she jumped up and carried Evan into one of the small examining rooms. Dr. Manta’s nurse, a young woman in Winnie-the-Pooh scrubs, walked in right after.
“Hi, Taylor, Evan. What brings you in today?”
“Evan’s been uncharacteristically tired and very cranky lately. I just want to make sure nothing’s brewing.”
“Okay.” She smiled at Evan. “How are you, sweetie?” She inserted a digital thermometer in his ear and pulled it out a few seconds later when it beeped. “Normal.”
He didn’t answer and turned his face away from her.
“Any fever before now, throwing up, diarrhea?”
“No. Nothing like that.”
“Okay, well, Dr. Manta will be in shortly.”
She shut the door and Taylor was shifting Evan to her other hip when the doctor walked in.
“So we’re feeling tired lately, are we?” Walking over to the sink, he washed his hands, then stood in front of Taylor and Evan, giving the boy’s hair a tousle. “Hey, big guy, can you look at Doc?”
Taylor sat Evan on the table and gave him her keys, which seemed to perk him up a little. The doctor touched Evan’s neck and felt his lymph nodes, then listened to his chest and gave him a general once-over. “So you said no fever or stomach upset. How’s his appetite been?”
Taylor thought. “About the same. He’s going through a bit of a finicky stage, wanting cookies instead of food, but of course, I don’t give in.”
“Smart boy. Who wouldn’t prefer a cookie to a veggie? But he does look a little pale to me. Let’s do a quick finger prick to check his hemoglobin. Could be running low on iron.”
Taylor braced herself as he took Evan’s little hand in his and gave it a brief prick, then squeezed some blood onto a slide.
Immediately Evan’s lips puckered, and he began to cry.
“I’m sorry, buddy.” Doctor Manta pulled a Spider-Man sticker from his lab coat pocket and handed it to Evan. “This is for being a brave boy.”
Evan clutched it in his hand, his mouth still in a pout and big teardrops on his cheeks. It broke Taylor’s heart.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes.” The doctor took the slide and left, and Taylor pulled out an oatmeal cookie from the diaper bag and handed it to Evan. That at least brought a smile to his face. The minutes dragged until the door opened again, and Taylor’s heart tightened. She didn’t like the look on the doctor’s face.
“What’s wrong?” Taylor asked
He tilted his head. “Evan’s hemoglobin levels are low.”
“How low?”
He paused. “I’d normally expect them to be between ten and eleven, and his are at nine.”
“What does that mean?”
“He’s probably anemic, which just means his iron is low. This could be caused by a number of things. Let’s try not to panic. You said he’s been finicky. It could just be his diet.”
She shook her head. “He eats broccoli and spinach. Also grass-fed beef at least once a week. And he’s on a multivitamin.” Her stomach lurched and she began to think of all the terrible things that could be wrong with him.
He nodded. “I’d like to run a full blood panel. CBC and iron studies. And I’ll do a reticulocyte count to make sure his blood is regenerating normally.”
She took a deep breath. “You’re scaring me.”
“I’m not trying to. I just want to be thorough. You mentioned the fatigue and general lethargy. Let’s just make sure everything’s okay. It could be any number of things, most of which are very treatable. Try not to think the worst.”
But of course Taylor went right to the worst. She felt she was going to throw up or faint or both. “But you’re also looking to make sure it’s not something like a . . .” She mouthed the words blood cancer. “Right?”
“Taylor . . .”
“I need to call Jack.” She suddenly felt like she couldn’t breathe.
Dr. Manta put a hand on her arm. “Take a deep breath. Evan’s been a very healthy little boy. I’m just being cautious. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I wasn’t. We’ll run the tests, and we’ll have a much better picture in a couple of days—I’ll have them rush the results. Please, let’s not worry until we have something to worry about.”
Easy for him to say, she thought. She would do nothing but worry until they got the results. Taylor pulled out her cell phone and dialed Jack, but it rang a few times then went to voice mail. She hung up. He’d call her back when he saw the missed call.
“So if it’s not his diet causing the low iron, what else could it be, on the not-terrifying scale?”
“Well, loss of blood, of course, but that’s not the case here. Lead exposure can be a factor. There are some hereditary diseases in which the bone marrow doesn’t produce enough red blood cells. There’s one, thalassemia, that’s more common in Greeks and could be the explanation.”
“It’s treatable, though, right?” She knew a little about the disease but never thought to be tested, especially as Malcolm hadn’t been Greek.
“Yes, very. Usually with some blood transfusions and sometimes chelation. Again, we’re getting ahead of ourselves.”
“But at least that’s a possibility that’s less horrifying than . . .” She wouldn’t say the word again.
“Let’s get him to the lab so we can take blood, and then I want you to go home and try to think positive. I really think we’re going to find a logical explanation. He’s not bruising, and everything else looks good. We just have to get those iron levels back up.” He gave her a sympathetic look. “It could be that he’s not absorbing the iron for some reason, but before we put him through any invasive GI testing, let’s look at the blood.”
She took a deep breath. Then another. What if that’s what the dream meant, that he was sick and there was nothing she could do? Tears sprang to her eyes. The doctor put a hand on hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“I know you’re worried, but let’s try to take this one step at a time. I’ll take the blood myself. I’ve gotten pretty good at it.” He smiled at her.
Once they walked down the hallway to the lab, Dr. Manta pushed Evan’s sleeve up while Taylor held him.
“Hmm. I can’t find a good vein in this arm.” He looked more closely. “He hasn’t had blood taken anywhere else, has he?”
Taylor shook her head. “Of course not. I only bring him to you.”
“Must just be a little scab. Let’s try the other arm.” He put the tourniquet on Evan’s left arm and slid a gloved finger over his elbow. “This will work.” He pulled a butterfly needle out and inserted it. Evan flinched, then started to cry again. Taylor watched as his blood filled the tube. Her stomach lurched again and she thought about the answer to be found in that red liquid. She prayed it would bring good news.
* * *
Evan was quiet on the drive back to the house. They greeted Beau when they walked into the house, then Taylor put Evan down in the playroom. She still hadn’t heard from Jack, and she needed to talk to someone. Her hand shook as she pulled her phone from her purse and called her brother.
“Jer, I’m scared,” she said as soon as he picked up.
The tone of his voice immediately changed. “What’s the matter?”
She filled him in on the doctor’s visit.
“All right, now, you need to breathe. It’s going to be okay. We’ll pray.”
“What if it’s not? Prayers aren’t always answered. You know that. I can’t survive if anything happens . . .” She choked back tears and was unable to talk.
“Where’s Jack?” Jeremy asked softly.
“Pittsburgh.”
“I’m coming over. It’s going to be fine. I promise.”
Taylor hung up and went in to check on Evan, who was now lying on the floor asleep. She couldn’t hold in the tears. Sobs racked her body as she gave in to the terror she felt. If God took Evan from her, then he may as well take her life, too. She was strong. But not that strong. No matter what anyone might try to tell her, she wouldn’t survive the loss.