Free Just for the Summer by Jenna Rutland Page B

hope for a normal outcome.
    The doctor’s glance skirted around the room. He turned his attention to Matt. “Can
     your family stay with your son while we talk in the consultation room?”
    After an anxious nod from his mother, he followed the doctor to a small office across
     the hall. Matt took the offered chair. His knee bounced in anticipation.
    The doctor flipped a few pages on a clipboard. “It appears that Sam has diabetes,”
     the doctor said in a tone Matt no longer trusted.
    He vaulted off his chair. He raised a hand toward the doctor, desperate to discourage
     more bad news.
    “Diabetes is not what it used to be,” the doctor continued. “It’s now very manageable.
     We have a terrific diabetic support group here that will help you through every step.”
     He offered Matt a comforting smile as he spoke. “I know it’s hard to believe right
     now, but eventually Sam’s diabetes will just become one more part of his life that
     you’ll teach him to manage.”
    Dr. Jacobs took a pen out of his jacket pocket. “I’ll sign Sam’s release papers. In
     the meantime, the staff will set you up with a service that will send a nurse and
     nutritionist out to your house.”
    Matt’s body turned on him. Suddenly the room became too tight. The air too stale.
     The pressure too much. With his head swimming with information, his gut threatened
     to boycott. He needed fresh air. Without a word, he darted out of the room.
    As he sped past the nurses’ station, Marcy called out, “Matt, wait up a second,” but
     he didn’t waver in his quest.
    When Marcy caught up to him, she grabbed his arm. He pulled away. “I can’t breathe.
     I’ve got to get out of here.” His nausea increased with each gulp of hospital-scented
     air.
    Marcy jogged next to him as he made his way to the exit. “Sam’s a healthy child. With
     your help, he can handle this.”
    Matt stopped. “Healthy?” His hand massaged the stab of pain in his chest. “Sam’s just
     been diagnosed with diabetes. How in the hell can you say he’s healthy?”
    “I know this is a blow, Matt. But diabetes can be managed. Sam can still lead a long,
     productive life.”
    “Yeah, sure, attached to a needle.” He continued toward the door. Marcy once again
     trotted after him.
    “Yes, he’ll need insulin, and his blood sugars will have to be routinely monitored.
     But he can still participate in all the things little boys love to do.”
    “And who’s going to give those shots, Marcy? Huh? I don’t know a damn thing about
     injections and blood tests. I’m not a doctor.” He was a sheriff. A man appointed to
     protect the people of this town, yet he couldn’t protect the one person he loved most
     in the world.
    “That’s why we’re here. There’s a whole support team to teach you.”
    “Is that supposed to comfort me?” he snapped.
    Marcy’s eyes gleamed with compassion. Matt looked away.
    “Marcy, line two is for you,” someone called from the nurses’ station.
    “Don’t be afraid to ask for help.” She squeezed his arm and strode toward the desk.
    Yeah, he was top in his class at needing help. What kind of a loser parent was he?
     His mother lived with him because he couldn’t juggle his new job and caring for his
     son. Now with Sam’s diabetes, Matt would have to again ask for assistance. Give him
     a medal for father of the year.
    …
    After a coffee run to the hospital cafeteria, Dani headed back toward the emergency
     department. She usually succeeded in avoiding the ER, where there was too much of
     the unexpected and too little control—both as a nurse and as a patient. Her coworkers
     always joked that unless a baby was about to pop, the emergency room was like a surprise
     visit from relatives—you had to put up with a lot of crap and couldn’t wait for it
     to end.
    As she made her way through the overcrowded waiting room, Dani’s attention shifted
     to a young girl who wept on the shoulder of an older woman. Lines