Taking the Fall (10 page)

Over the next few years, he had completed his residency and hired on at MGH. He spent as much time in Vermont with Leah as he could, but Allison made it less than easy. He had even tried to find a position at a trauma center closer to Leah but nothing ever seemed to pan out.

He had hired an attorney, much to the chagrin of his parents for not having taken them up on their offer to help him pay a retainer prior to this point, and finally had a court ordered joint legal custody order. It gave him Leah every other holiday and on school vacation, as well as four weeks in the summer.

It was far less than what he had wanted but more than he thought Allison would ever give.

Truth be told, his constant battling with Allison was something that helped him keep going. It helped him stay focused and not lose sight of being involved in everything concerning Leah.

No matter how unwanted his continued involvement was or how Allison tried to make things difficult for him, when Leah’s preschool suggested that there may be concern of a developmental delay in Leah, Hunter was the first person Allison called.

Suddenly the trio, because Garrett was conveniently too busy and couldn’t find time away from the office, were thrown into behavioral testing along with developmental assessments.

Acronyms and abbreviations were used to describe Leah’s slowness to grasp concepts that seemed easy to her peers or how her social behaviors lagged greatly behind the other children.

To Hunter’s relief and surprise, when he made the recommendation to bring Leah back to Boston for a full developmental workup at Children’s Floating Hospital at Tufts Medical Center, Allison agreed and had Leah there the following day.

Given Hunter’s position at MGH and his colleagues’ connections and willingness to forgo the six-month wait list, they were able to get Leah in to see the director of Developmental-Behavioral Pediatrics. After another string of parental inquisitive questions, seeming to have no rhyme or reason in relation to Leah’s daily function, a model play visional assessment session, more questions and identifications for Leah, speech evaluation, and four cups of coffee, the doctor brought Allison and Hunter back in to talk while one of the therapists entertained Leah.

“Dr. Dennison and Mrs. Lloyd, it is without a doubt that your daughter is a bright, charismatic, beautiful, healthy child. However, given what I’ve seen as well as the written concerns of her preschool teachers and the workup of the doctors in Vermont, it is my medical opinion that Leah does fall under the umbrella of ASD,” the kind yet professional doctor affirms.

Allison openly wept, reaching for Hunter’s hand at the small round table in the doctor’s office where they sat that overlooked Washington Street.

Hunter met the doctor’s eyes and silently nodded his admittance that the findings did not surprise him. He soothed Allison enough so that the doctor could continue.

“Now, I know this is a lot for you to hear, but Autism Spectrum Disorder isn’t a death sentence for your child. It doesn’t mean that your daughter can’t learn or that she won’t grow up and be a normal contributing adult in society. What this means is it will just take Leah maybe a little bit longer to learn something and she may learn in a different way. The point I’m trying to make is this doesn’t mean you did anything wrong in your parenting of Leah. So please keep your self-pity away from this table and let’s agree to focus on doing what is best for Leah.”

The doctor gave them detailed points and scores as to how she came to her diagnosis. Looking at it from a doctor’s standpoint, Hunter couldn’t deny that it was clear Leah was a pervasive developmental disorder’s child. However, from a father looking in, it felt like a punch in the gut and an immense failure weighing down on his shoulders.

How could he not know there was something off with his own child? How could he just brush off all her personality and physical quirks and not see the answer screaming back at him?

They listened to all the doctor had to say and agreed to the implementation of immediate home based Applied Behavior Analysis therapies as well as speech and occupational therapies that could be done while she was at preschool.

By the time the trio left, everyone was drained physically and emotionally. Without fight, Allison agreed to spend the night at his apartment. He had just tucked a sleeping Leah into his bed when he joined Allison in his modest kitchen.

“You okay?” Hunter asked grabbing a beer from the fridge.

She sat at the small table looking out the window, not acknowledging his presence or his question. Her usual immaculate appearance was haggard in comparison.

Hunter opened the fridge again, grabbed another longneck bottle, twisted off the cap, and placed in on the table in front of her.

Neither of them spoke another word, lost in their own thoughts. Allison had gone to bed shortly after, leaving Hunter to lay sleepless on the couch. Sometime before dawn, when Hunter finally fell asleep, Allison woke him with a ready-to-go Leah and told him that she was taking Leah home.

He knew that she was dealing with the news in her own way, just as he knew he would in the days to follow.

Hunter walked into Leah’s room and sat down on her bed. On her nightstand was a picture of the two of them at a theater production he had taken her to in Boston. He lifted the frame and looked closely as the beautiful dark-haired girl with small round glasses stared back. Her smile was large as were her arms spread wide, mimicking the same position as Hunter under the lit up marquis of the theater.

He placed the frame back where it was before standing up and walking back out of the room. Suddenly, the tremendous amount of sorrow he carried around with him that she couldn’t be with him every day chipped at the overload of emotions he was already experiencing.

He missed her. It had been too long since his last visit with her. Considering she wasn’t due to come until the beginning of July only made him long for his little girl that much worse.

When he reached his bedroom, his eyes connected with the identical picture that he just stared at in Leah’s room. He walked to where the collection of framed photos of Leah sat on his built-in bookcase. He gazed at the pictures of his beautiful girl in all stages of growth. He knew she was his greatest accomplishment, a feeling only a parent could relate with. He brought his forefinger to his lips, placing a kiss then bringing it to the frame.

He stripped as he headed to his connecting bath for a steaming hot shower. As he turned on the shower, grateful for the fact that it didn’t take but a few moments for the water to come to temperature, he stepped into the heavenly spray and allowed the hot water to pummel his muscles. It had been an early start for him today.

Remember, you don’t have to do it.

He knew that regardless of how many times he mentally scolded himself, it didn’t change his decision to keep up the charade.

He had even become quite good with his automatic reason and response when someone asked him why he did it.

If each person took an hour out of their time and volunteered in the community, our town would be that much more beautiful for it.

And for most, the normal response would be accolades for such stellar citizenship, but Hunter knew it was all a farce.

He did it for his own twisted reasons.

“And that is why you are your own worst enemy, Dennison!” Hunter chastised.

He leaned his head against the warm shower tile, closed his eyes, and raised his fist striking the smooth granite with only enough impact to show his frustration.

Like always, his mind wandered to the place where a certain person was the focus. To the place, which Hunter knew, was not a good place for him.

Even after the verbal reminder earlier, he was lost in the private place where he could take what he had always planned to have.

What is it going to take you to rid yourself of these delusional moments of lust where Molly Jenson is concerned?

“If I knew the answer to that, I would be a much smarter man.”

By the time Hunter made his way back into his Jeep with the scally cap on his head and coffee and briefcase in hand, he had mentally seduced Molly a few dozen times. It didn’t help his overall mood or the fit of his dress trousers.

As he weaved his way through the streets of town, he knew there were at least five different routes he could take to arrive at the hospital, and each day he told himself that he would go one of the other four ways the next time. But it never seemed to happen. No, instead he always seemed to take the same way, right down Main Street and right past
Molly’s.

It is the quickest way.

Hunter mused, effectively resulting in a mental head slap—the physical ones were common amongst his brothers.

Maybe Gage or Delaney, Reed or the twins and Jamie are there?

Good, solid probability for that.

Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that, stupid.

As he passed the town staple with its aged red bricks and large white awning with the green embossed “M,” he found himself doing the same thing that he did every time he drove past. His eyes strayed to the right, in hopes of just a glimpse.

It seemed today was one of the days his silent prayer was answered and his self-loathing quickly responded to the appreciation he felt for it.

Molly stepped out the restaurant’s front door, and his seeking blue gaze snagged hers. He was sure it was an involuntary response on her part, but she lifted her hand to wave. He ignored the expected reaction.

Her friendly response did something that it had done for twenty years.

Warmed his heart and went straight to his groin.

Fuck me! At this rate, you, Dr. Dennison, will be walking around with a semi hard-on for most of the day.

And if his day couldn’t go any more astray, he looked in his rearview mirror as he continued down Main Street, and sure as shit, there was the sheriff’s SUV behind him.

The rest of the way to the hospital, Hunter had hoped his older brother, and the county sheriff, would make a turn here or there, but no such luck. He followed Hunter into the physician’s parking area of the hospital lot.

You never knew what to expect from Gage, but considering his luck this morning, this spontaneous visit was not looking in his favor.

By the time Hunter slid out of his Jeep, Gage was waiting.

“Good morning, doc!” Gage professed eagerly, making a point to be obvious about his inspection of both Hunter’s hands and arms.

“Something wrong there, Sheriff?” Hunter inquired, honestly not in the mood for his brother’s games.

“Nope, just doing my job.”

Gage now walked around his brother, leaning in through the still open driver’s door to check the contents of Hunter’s front seat.

“Why?”

“Shush.”

Hunter’s annoyance was beginning to boil. This did not bode well for his upcoming eighteen-hour shift. Losing patience with whatever Gage was playing at, Hunter found himself saying none too nicely, “Okay, I give up. Your star is shoved somewhere, and your pride has you too embarrassed to say it out loud. Don’t worry, I know a good proctologist.”

“Funny! But not today!” Gage answers happily, finally leaning one shoulder against Hunter’s Jeep. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and propped one leg over the other so that the toe of his boot rested on the pavement.

With the mirrored aviators covering his eyes, Hunter couldn’t get a good read off his brother. All he had to go on was the goofy-ass grin that stretched from one ear to the other.

And, to be honest, it annoyed the shit out of him.

“Care to fill me in or are you just going to stare at me?”

“Just saw what happened back there and couldn’t help but wonder if either of your hands were broken or if something needed to be held down on the passenger seat. Because, you see, that is the only reason I could think of as to why you wouldn’t return a wave to a sweet restaurant owner you passed on your way in.”

Shit!

With an offer to give Gage a reason to see the proctologist, Hunter turned and began walking toward the hospital.

“Touchy this morning, are we?” Gage asked as he easily fell in stride with his brother.

“Don’t you have some real police work to do or is the county so boring you have to find a way to piss me off?”

“My county is a well-oiled machine, my brother,” Gage chimed, taking off his glasses as he followed Hunter through the revolving door and straight toward the physician’s lounge.

Not abiding by the sign on the door, Gage followed Hunter into the lounge. They weaved their way through the small couched room and into the locker and shower area. Gage leaned against the sink with his hands in his pants pockets as Hunter put his personal items in his locker and took out his white coat and slipped it on.

“What?” Hunter snapped as he slammed his locker closed and put his stethoscope around his neck.

All mirth gone now, Gage asked, “When are you going to let it go?”

Whether it was the frustration he had been carrying over from earlier, or the fact his older brother was asking a question he too had asked himself countless times, Hunter didn’t know. He just snapped, and Gage was a great target.

“Don’t preach to me about let things go,” Hunter hissed, trying to keep the conversation and topic private.

Gage stood to his full height, which was a couple inches taller than Hunter was, and made Hunter stop in his tracks. “You are completely right. I carried around so much pain for so long that I almost lost the best couple of things to ever enter my life,” Gage said sincerely. But then, all the warm and fuzziness of his approach was gone. “And it was you who helped me realize that I couldn’t let my pride run the show anymore. But God, Hunt! Don’t you think twenty years is long enough? You never told me what caused you to run off with Allison when I knew you were so set to finally confessing to Molly how you felt, but I can guess. If my hunches are right, and they usually are right on, then I’m telling you to let it go!” Gage stepped toward the door, placing his aviators back on his face and turned to say with his own level of annoyance and sarcasm, “Shit happens. Not everyone is as perfect as you! Give them a break or give them up. The choice is yours, but it is about damn time it is one or the other.”