Page 4 of The Ampersand Effect

Tobin felt the weight of disappointment from the kids settle in her chest as she slumped in her seat. “Yes, Captain.”

Two

“Hey kiddo, ready for the ride of your life?” Dr. Grier Savage asked her niece, Delta, peeking into her office.

“I’m waiting on you, Auntie—wings up!”

Grier smiled, swinging her torso through the doorframe into the office. “Just one more patient to check on, then we’ll head upstairs. Did Alix get you a snack?” She glanced at her friend and colleague sprawled across the leather couch, one leg tucked under them, facing the desk.

Alix raised an incredulous eyebrow. “This child is a bottomless pit. How do you keep enough food in the house to ensure it grows?”

“Oh, trust, friend,” Grier laughed lightly. “Between her cavernous stomach and my student loans, there isn’t a dime left for anything else!”

Alix softened, “We snagged some leftover doughnuts from the break room, and I made her eat a cheese and beef jerky pack from the cafeteria. You know, protein and whatnot.”

“You know me well, Alix. Thank you,” Grier said, toying with the ends of her braided hair—a style she favored after her morning swims. She loved the way her hair curled from the freshwater of Lake Aether, the braid accentuating the loose curls as they dried and escaped from the hair tie.

“Still jealous. You owe me,” they said, the twitch of a smile betraying the sarcasm Grier knew was laced with affection. “I’ll accept pizza and drinks on Saturday,” they mandated, as was customary in their friendly banter.

“Now you’re speaking my language. I’ll let Maren know,” Grier replied, accepting Alix’s terms and including their other colleague— the department’s massage therapist, the wise-beyond-her-years woman who completed their triad of friendship.

“She probably already knows,” Alix postulated.

Grier chuckled, shaking her head affectionately. “I swear she has a sixth sense for pizza nights.”

“You’re not wrong. Now go check on Jonah so you can get this human garbage disposal you call a niece up in the air and out of my hair,” they said, giving Delta a sarcastic glare. Delta met it with an equally chilled, narrowed-eye stare.

Several yards down the hall, Grier heard a muffled, “You love me!” in Delta’s youthful pitch, followed swiftly by the quick rise of their laughter.

Alix and Maren had both stepped up and into Delta’s life after the death of her mother—Grier’s best friend, Nora—without prompting. Neither had been particularly keen on children of their own, yet they had naturally assumed de facto aunt and auncle roles. Grier smiled at Alix’s particularly sarcastic banter with Delta; those two could spar like siblings sometimes, and she loved every minute of it.

She reached Jonah’s room, where boisterous laughter spilled

into the hallway. Jonah had been selected to ride the helicopters that morning, and it was all he had talked about for the past week. Even during treatments, their conversationsinvariably revolved around helicopters and airplanes, long before today’s ride.

Jonah’s cancer, Ewing’s sarcoma, had attacked his left hip, causing pain and a pronounced limp. Grier knew he would likely never pilot his own aircraft, but none of the adults in his life had the heart to breakhis. She was grateful he had this opportunity to fly today. The disease was unpredictable, and despite medical advances over the last decade, progress against Ewing’s sarcoma had been limited. He was in his third round of chemo and radiation, and Grier co-managed his care, using adjustments to help keep his pelvis balanced despite the cancer’s damage.

Grier knew his symptoms were worsening, and she feared he was close to losing his leg. The boy’s infectious laughter and winning attitude tugged at her heart. Losing his leg would be devastating for him—and for his family. The invasive cancer was winning, and the leg might not be its final victory. She had grown increasingly concerned, keeping a closer eye on him in recent weeks. Before approaching his room, she took a deep breath to steady herself. She had to remain positive and upbeat around her patients, even more adamantly around the terminal ones.

She stood in the doorway, watching as Jonah and Micah reenacted their flight experience for their remarkably patient mother, Molly. Seeing Grier, Molly nodded toward the door. Jonah spun on the hospital bed he was perched on, toppling backward onto the pillows in a heap.

“Dr. Savage! We got to honk the horn! I tried to push it so loud so you could hear it all the way down here!”

“I did! I thought you might have been the culprit behind it,” Grier said, feeling her smile reach all the way to her eyes.

“Micah, too! And, I got to give the all-clear signal! Captain Maes said I could. It wassocool!”

“No way, kiddo! That sounds incredible. I’ll have to ask if I can do that,” she said, walking over to him and standing at the foot of his bed, hands tucked into the pockets of her lab coat.

Jonah eyed her suspiciously. “How are you going to adjust me in here? You don’t have a table…”

Grier chuckled softly. “I’m not. I’m just here to check on you and see if you have any advice for the ride. I’m a bit nervous, and I thought you might be just the guy to help me shake it.”

“It’s so much fun, you won’t even notice you’re miles and miles above the ground! It’s perfectly safe!” He beamed. “The captains will even let you look in the cockpit beforehand so you can see all the controls that keep you safe. I promise—you’re going to love it!” He tucked his arms behind his head, lying back in the mass of pillows and linens, staring at the ceiling as he relived his adventure.

“I’m so glad you had fun, buddy! How about we take a look at you, and then I’ll be on my way. Can you sit on the edge of the bed for me? How are you feeling?”

Jonah complied. Grier rubbed some hand sanitizer on her hands, then gently lifted the bottom of his shirt. She pressed the pads of her fingers into the skin of his pelvis, moving outward over the hips. She felt some warmth and noticed more swelling around the left femur head than she had earlier that morning.