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“Good girl,” Abby gasped. “You’re a good girl, Gen.”
Scott, catching his breath, leaned over to scratch the dog under the chin. “She sure is. Hey, maybe if Dylan took her to the next hearing Lindsay would be so scared, she’d run away.”
She thought he meant it as a joke, but both of them sobered.
“I know why she growled at Lindsay. I wanted to myself.” Abby sighed. “But she shouldn’t have. I mean, she wasn’t working, but still...”
Scott rested his arm over her shoulders. “It’ll be fine. Like you said, she wasn’t working, and you and Dylan were both upset... She couldn’t help reacting to all the stress.”
Abby picked at a fingernail. “Yeah, but what if she reacts that way again? What if she does it at the hospital? Dogs pattern fast; once might be all it takes for her to think it’s okay...”
“Hey,” he interrupted, pulling her into his side. “We’ll worry about it if it happens. Once isn’t a pattern—not yet—and I’m sure she’ll never do it again.”
“She hasn’t been herself, you know? The hotspots, but they were so weird this year, and then being off her food, and sometimes she doesn’t want to go running with me.”
“I thought the vet gave her a clean bill of health.”
“He did. But then I keep second-guessing myself. Something comes up, and I think I should take her in, then it goes away. I’m worrying too much, that’s all.”
“You love her. We worry when we love someone.” Scott laughed. “I remember the first time Dylan caught a cold. It had been going around the daycare, a little sniffle, but he woke up one morning with this smear of snot across his whole cheek and this yellow line running out of one nostril and I’m pretty sure I about called an ambulance.”
“Ewww, that is so gross.”
“Really? Ewww? You deal with IV’s and blood and stuff all day long.” He squinted at her.
“Don’t forget catheter bags.”
“And on that note... Anyway. He was fine, of course. Didn’t even need antibiotics.” He frowned. “Another time, certain it was nothing – maybe teething? I waited and waited to take him in. I only did because I had a game, and I didn’t want him to end up sick with the nanny. Poor kid had a double ear infection and strep. I thought I’d locked up the award for the worst father ever.”
He’d told the story to be funny, to make her laugh, but it struck something deeper in her than amusement. “See, sometimes somethingiswrong.”
Scott turned toward her, lifting her chin so they could lock eyes. “You’re right, sometimes there is. Would it reassure you to take her in? To tell the vet everything and know for sure she’s fine?” At her quietyeah, he nodded. “Then we’ll do it tomorrow.”
Except tomorrow came and they didn’t. Abby spent the next several days at the hospital; Liam had been admitted again, making eight times so far this year. Scott had practice, then Dylan had school, and band, and soccer, then another away game. This time, Dylan stayed home with Lauren and Abby came to their place, instead.
They won again, a solid streak, now, with four in a row, and Scott played well—better than the previous week when the hearing the following morning had been looming over his head. The next two games were at home, so Abby and Dylan spent them together at the stadium and went out for dinner afterwards with Finn and Kelly, too.
Once, Jordan joined them. Young, unattached, and far from his parents, Abby loved how Scott and Finn took him under their wing. They made sure the team became his family, with Jordan, as the little brother, trying to survive his rookie year.
Abby made good on her personal promise to encourage Scott to get out more with his teammates and friends, though she couldn’t be upset when he chose to spend what precious little extra time he had with her and Dylan.
Liam’s kidneys were failing, but they didn’t want to put him on dialysis yet. They tried a transfusion, which helped for a few days, but then the toxins in his kidneys began building up again.
Some days, Abby spent all hours at the hospital with Liam, Ethan, and their family, supporting Cara and Linda and the other nurses, waiting as the doctors considered first one treatment, then another. Then, she went home, or, more often, to Scott’s, and she got to be a whole different person.
No longer somber and quiet, or endlessly upbeat and positive, she could be her real self – doubts, stresses, strains, and all.
Gen, equally exhausted by their long days, flopped onto Dylan’s bed with him and slept until Abby came up to get her.
The guardianad litemthat had been appointed by the court contacted Scott. She’d already spoken to Lauren and most of Dylan’s teachers, but she still needed to interview Scott and Lindsay. She wanted to speak with Abby, too. The psychologist also contacted Scott, but he lived in New York and would have to find time to fly down. Scott offered to do a telephone evaluation, hoping to save himself the hassle of meeting with the man, but he’d been insistent on a face-to-face. In no particular rush to change the custody arrangements, Scott had acquiesced.
“I’m Ruth Weiring. As you may know, I’ve been appointed to help the court decide the best course of action for amending the custody agreement for Dylan Edwards. I’m not here to take sides; my sole purpose is to consider the best interests of the child in question and make a recommendation to Judge Farmer.” The guardianad litem’s words were professional, and though firm, she expressed a sense of fairness that should have reassured Abby.
Still, she couldn’t comprehend what purpose interviewing her could serve.
The woman waited for an answer, so Abby nodded, fingers twisting in the hem of her shirt. “I understand.”
“Let’s start with how you got to know Scott and Dylan.” The guardian locked eyes with Abby, her full attention absorbed by the conversation between them.