Chapter Four

Moon

In the days after Jana was shot, I turned into a scared little girl, unable to leave the house beyond going to familiar places and only when necessary. I couldn’t walk the fifty yards to my shop because I couldn’t even think about what had happened there, the wreckage left behind. But I was a businesswoman and I couldn’t simply let my fear and trauma keep me from taking care of business. After a quick glance at the clock on the wall, I called my insurance adjuster and an approved cleaning service who promised to meet me the day after tomorrow.

That meant I had forty-eight hours to get myself together. Centered and Zen enough to walk into my own shop. Like a professional.

Sleep had been another thing I couldn’t do much of lately. Every time I closed my eyes all I could see was Jana, gasping for breath like each one would be her last. My hands, coated in her blood. Even now I could see it when I washed my hands. I could still smell the metallic scent of that much blood. So much blood.

I couldn’t sleep and I couldn’t stop the guilt that this had happened when she was in my shop. The place that was meant to be warm and welcoming, a place where creativity was free to flourish. Now, it was something else.

“Are we visiting Jana today, Mom?” Beau looked up at me, his blue eyes shining behind his black glasses, curious and alert.

“Sure, but remember I told you she won’t be awake.” I’d been to visit Jana in the hospital at least once a day since this happened but explaining it to Beau was heartbreaking.

“She’s in a coma,” he said, now sad because he’d taken to Jana right away.

“That’s right, but it’s a medically induced coma so that she and the baby can heal faster.”

“Do we have to go see Dr. Yang?”

I loved my little boy. At eight, he was too smart for his own good, perceptive and just incredible. But he did not like his regular visits to the lung specialist we’d been seeing for about two years. Chronic asthma that, despite everything we did to cure it, was as stubborn as I was.

“Yeah, Beau, we do. You know that.”

“I know,” he sighed, digging his toe into the kitchen linoleum. “But I’m breathing fine today. See?” Beau stood tall in his Pac-Man t-shirt and jeans because he had an aversion to shorts, and he sucked in several deep breaths before letting them out slowly so I could hear his lungs. “See, Mom?”

I knelt down so we were face to face, hands planted on his shoulders. “That’s why we have to go in today, Beau. We have to make sure you’re still doing well. It’s just a precaution.” He hated the speech, knew it by heart but he also knew I was right. His asthma problems were harder for me than they were for Beau because he had the luxury of hope, whereas I had the misfortune of a mother’s worry. I had to listen to his chronic cough, his constant wheezing. Watch him sit on the sidelines instead of engage in the rough and tumble of the sports he loved. My eight-year-old powerhouse turned to books and science to corral his boundless energy.

“There’s no reason to be scared,” I promised to those wide eyes that always melted my heart. Even though I was terrified and no amount of yoga or meditation would help.

“What if it’s worse, Mom? What if I can’t go to school anymore?”

That was saying something since school wasn’t Beau’s favorite place. A kid with his smarts and his sensitivity was a target for most kids and my son seemed to attract them all.

“Then we’ll find you the best tutor in the state and make sure you socialize in other ways.” I couldn’t help pulling him in for a hug and a kiss, his little boy scent reminding me why I worked so hard every single day. And why I had to get back to the shop as soon as possible.

“It’s my job to worry so let me do my job. Okay?”

He giggled and kissed me back. “Okay.”

“Good. Let’s get out of here.” We piled into my car and battled Vegas traffic as we made our way to the larger hospital to see the respiratory specialist. Visiting Dr. Yang wasn’t my favorite pastime either, but it was necessary. Essential.

We took x-rays and a breathing test, then waited. And waited. I counted the roses on the outdated wallpaper and fidgeted anxiously while Beau got lost in another one of his books. “Beau Vanderbilt,” the nurse called and we went back to the office.

Dr. Yang was a forty something woman with silky black hair and kind eyes. “Good afternoon Beau, how are you feeling today?”

“Okay, Dr. Yang. How are you?”

She grinned affectionately. “Good, thanks for asking. So I have some news,” she said to Beau though her gaze was fixed on mine.

“It’s worse, isn’t it?”

The doctor nodded, her eyes filled with sympathy. “The inflammation has worsened and your numbers are down I’m afraid, but not significantly. I think you’ll find a nebulizer effective for handling your difficulty breathing. Could help with the inflammation in your airways, too.”

Numb. That’s how I felt. Listening to the doctors hadn’t been a mistake but I should have listened to myself as well. “We’ll get the nebulizer, but I’ll also look into other, more natural treatments.”

“That’s fine. I’ll do one treatment today so you can see how it’s done and then you can do them at home. Three times a day to start.”

“Three times a day? He has school and other activities.” The one thing I never wanted for Beau was to have a childhood like mine, where he would be forced to act like a miniature adult at all times. I wanted him to be a kid. A normal kid. My parents had always been too concerned with appearances, so much so they denied me and my siblings a childhood.

“There are portable nebulizers that are battery operated. Just take it with you wherever you are.” She gave a few more instructions while she administered the first treatment. “Pretty easy, right?”

Beau nodded. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

“It never is,” I assured him and helped him down from the exam table so we could get moving.

“Should we bring Jana’s baby a toy?”

I smiled. “Sure buddy, let’s stop at the gift shop.”