Pretend hearts, real love

Chance encounter

Chapter 4: Chance Encounter

The children's wing of Portland Medical Center was an opera of careful chaos: carts rolled by the nurses down the halls, the occasional "beep" of monitoring equipment, hushed tones outside closed doors, and the acrid smell of antiseptic mixed with the chemical sweetness of strawberry-scented hand sanitizer. It was nice, routine but never lacking in the unforeseen cadence of child vulnerability and recovery.

Charlotte Hayes strode down the corridor in an equal mixture of relaxed and focused. She'd just come out of a grueling executive board meeting in which half was spending cuts and the other half was bureaucratic jargon she'd been desensitizing herself to for decades. Her heels made a soft patter on the linoleum, muffled by a lullaby softly coming out of a mobile in one of the other rooms.

She had no business being here.

But this part of the hospital, where she breathed her soul.

Here, she was not a medical director trading favors and soothing egos. She is a doctor. A listener. A comforter of tiny hearts with giant fears.

A nurse with bright red curls and tired eyes beckoned her over. "Dr. Hayes, I'm sorry Room 204. Emily Sullivan was a bit disturbed. Her pediatrician isn't here yet, and well… she didn't cooperate much when we tried. Figured maybe you could—"

Charlotte nodded before the nurse got the rest of the sentence out. "I've got her."

She slipped into Room 204 with two gentle raps and a nudge of the door with a hand used to crossing borders that were not bodily. The air was scented with fabric softener, crayons, and a faint sterile sting of hospital bleach. Sunlight poured in through the blinds, striping the floor in foggy beams.

On the hospital bed lay a little girl of six or seven years old, cuddled around a worn, floppy stuffed giraffe. Legs dangled off the edge, mismatched fuzzy socks scrabbling on the floor as she gently swung them half-heartedly. Big brown eyes glassier than they should have been looked up at her visitor.

Charlotte's own heart softened a little bit to see this.

"Hi," she said softly, squatting down beside the bed so they were at eye level. "I'm Dr. Hayes, but just call me Charlotte, okay? I hear you were pretty upset. Do you want to talk about it?"

Emily glared at her for a moment, then shrugged half-heartedly. "I'm fine."

Charlotte nodded, as if that was an entirely reasonable response. "Okay is a complicated word. It's like telling your sandwich is edible. Does not mean it tastes great."

The little girl blinked in surprise. Then she snickered just a little.

Charlotte smiled. "That stuffed giraffe looks like he's been on some adventures."

"His name's Gerald," Emily said softly, stroking the giraffe's frayed ear. "He's brave. Braver than me."

"Gerald," Charlotte whispered, as if addressing royalty. "A brave giraffe. Must be great to have a sidekick like him."

Emily's lower lip did its best to shake just a little. "The children at school said I do not have a mother. They said that was the reason no one came to the recital. They were laughing."

Charlotte's throat closed up. She leaned a little closer, resting her forearms on the bedframe.

"That was just harsh of them," she said, her tone strong but with a warmth to it. "But you know what I think? I think that you're very lucky."

Emily blinked. "Why?"

"Because one person who comes with their whole heart is more than a thousand people who only pretend to care."

Emily tilted her head to one side. "My dad says that too. That no matter if he's tired, he'll always look."

Charlotte smiled, feeling that old tug in her chest. "Sounds like your dad is a kind of superhero."

"He's the best superhero," Emily whispered, hugging Gerald close.

Charlotte paused, then reached into the inside pocket of her lab coat. "Don't tell anyone," she whispered in a mock conspiratorial tone. "This is technically against the rules."

She pulled out a grape lollipop, holding it out like a gemstone.

Emily's eyes widened. "Grape is my best!"

Charlotte grinned. "Serendipity. You and me? We have excellent taste."

She passed over the lollipop with a smile, and Emily unwrapped it with the careful touch of a child enjoying something precious. The purple candy disappeared between her lips a moment later, and Charlotte swore the entire room brightened.

The door groaned then, and a familiar figure stepped in.

"Em?" Concern laced Aiden's tone. White coat was slightly rumpled, clipboard tucked under his arm. "They said you weren't talking much."

He stopped short when he saw Charlotte. She sat beside his daughter, half-smiling, her hair mussed and face open.

Charlotte stood up involuntarily, smoothing her fur. "Oh hi. Sorry, I didn't know you were her father. One of the nurses said she was down and I just…"

She didn't have anything left to say, suddenly shy.

Aiden blinked, catching up. His daughter. Charlotte. Lollipops.

Emily smiled. "Daddy, this is Charlotte. She gave me candy, but I didn't say anything. Except you. But it was a secret."

Charlotte shrugged sheepishly. "I'm officially busted."

Aiden grinned, some of the tension easing off his shoulders. "Well, if ever there was a moment to get away with violating the lollipop law, I'd say this qualifies."

Their eyes only just now met truly met and something unsaid passed between them.

Understanding. Interest. Surprise.

"She's wonderful," Charlotte said, still a bit winded.

Aiden stepped closer to the bed. "She is braver than I was at her age."

"She talked to me about the recital." Charlotte glanced at Emily, then him. "And school."

Aiden massaged his forehead, exhaling. "She's had a tough week. First, the asthma attack, and then that thing. I wish I could keep her safe from all of it."

"You can't keep her safe," Charlotte replied gently. "But you're doing the best thing next to it being here."

He gazed at her once more, this time deliberately slower. "You sound like you have some knowledge about that."

"I do," she replied quietly. "It does matter."

Emily kicked at the bedframe. "Daddy, Charlotte's hilarious. You need to talk more."

Charlotte smiled, at last relaxing into her chair. "Emily, I officially elevate you to my official Public Relations manager."

"Does this mean I get a badge?" Emily asked gravely.

"I'll see what I can do.".

Aiden grinned, smoothing his hair. "Thanks. For sticking by her. Sometimes. she closes people out."

"She talked to Gerald first," Charlotte said, teasing the giraffe.

There was a pause. The sort of pause where something delicate and new vibrates just below the surface.

Then Emily pumped her arms in excitement. "Can we keep her, Daddy?"

Charlotte blinked. Aiden nearly gagged.

"Sweetie," he answered, his laugh-strained voice, "she's a doctor. We can't just take her home like Gerald."

Charlotte laughed. "But in the event you ever need a freelance giraffe smuggler or someone to applaud too loudly at recitals, I'm available."

Emily grinned widely. "Yay!"

Aiden looked at her, something unreadable in his face. "We may accept."

Charlotte glanced at her watch and breathed a sigh. "I better return to the world of spreadsheets and passive-aggressive mail."

"Likewise," said Aiden a bit softer now.

Charlotte smiled at Emily and leaned in. "Be brave, okay? Take care of Gerald."

Emily nodded, holding up the lollipop as if it were a trophy. "This helps."

Charlotte had laughed, her eyes lingering for one second longer on the father-daughter pair before she left the room.

When the door shut, Aiden lingered there a bit longer, staring at where she had been.

Emily tugged on his sleeve. "You like her."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think that?"

"You stared at her like you stare at cookies when you think I am not paying attention."

Aiden grinned. "Recorded. I'll work on my poker face."

Emily leaned against his hip, lollipop stick protruding from between her lips. "She liked you too. I can tell."

He stroked through her hair and kissed the crown of her head.

Maybe, just maybe. Family Day would not be so lacking after all.