Stay(54)

I don’t want to ask my questions in front of Eli. I can’t say what terrifies me with him here. I can barely think of the risks in my mind much less say them out loud.

If anything goes wrong, Eli could be left blind or paralyzed or unable to speak or walk or with any number of cognitive issues. He could go from being my child genius, doing middle school science projects, to mentally challenged. He could die…

Oh, God, I can’t even think of that possibility.

Stephen stands and motions to Eli. “How about we run down to the cafeteria and get a chocolate ice cream?”

“Okay!” Eli shouts, hopping off the table. Then he stops and squints up at Stephen. “Is that allowed on my special diet?”

Stephen’s lips press together. “I don’t know. But I bet it’s okay if we only get a small cup.”

I smile, grateful as he takes my son’s hand and leads him from the room. The door clicks shut, and I exhale a nervous laugh.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to say anything scary in front of Eli. He’s so little.”

“It’s okay.” Dr. Rourke puts his hand on my arm. “I think I know what’s on your mind, and I can tell you, I’ve done hundreds of these surgeries through the years. I’ve seen mixed results, but the vast majority provide some level of improvement.”

I think I might burst into tears. “Oh, that’s such a relief!”

“Full disclosure, the bulk of my work has been focused on the traditional resective surgery.”

“Okay…” My voice is quiet, nervous again. “How many of the type we’re needing have you done?”

“Less than a hundred.” Panic tightens my chest, and I guess it’s reflected in my eyes because he quickly adds. “I can say, they’ve all been on young patients like your son, and they’ve all been very successful.”

“So you think it’ll work?”

His lips poke out and he nods. “I think we have a good chance at a positive outcome, yes.”

“How long does it usually take? The surgery, I mean…” I watch as he looks through his notes.

“Usually about two, three hours. The longest I’ve had was six.”

“Six.” Another panicky whisper. “Is it safe for him to be sedated that long?”

“Sedation isn’t recommended for patients with his condition.” Dr. Rourke squints at me. “Didn’t you know that?”

“I guess I did…” My forehead scrunches, and I try to remember. “I’ve read so many articles. I’m sorry. So you’ll do awake surgery? How will you keep him still?”

“He’ll take medicine to make him sleepy, and I’ll use numbing medication on his scalp. The brain has no pain receptors, so he’ll be awake while I work.” Now I know fear is in my eyes. “I know it sounds strange, but I feel confident about this. I wouldn’t say that if I didn’t believe it. I’ve studied his records, and I think he’s a great candidate.”

My shoulders slump, and I nod. “It’s just so scary.”

Reaching out, he covers my hand with his. “Life-changing events always are.”



* * *



“It’s the right thing to do, right? It’s a decision between a lifetime of seizures, never being able to drive, possibly never holding a good job, public humiliation…” I’m pacing Stephen’s enormous bedroom, arms crossed, second-guessing everything that’s brought us to this point.

“Emmy. Look at me.” He catches my arms, stopping me. It doesn’t help my scattered brain that he’s dressed in only maroon sleep pants. I tear my eyes off his lined torso and look in his blue eyes. “You’re doing the right thing. Hell, I’m doing it with you. I brought Henry onboard, I’m funding the operation—”

“And I’m so grateful—”

“You’ve got to stop thanking me. I have the money. I want to do it.”

I exhale a laugh, feeling embarrassed.

He shakes his head, giving me a sympathetic look. “We’ve covered all this. Now come to bed.”

As promised, Stephen planted a baby monitor in Eli’s room and threatened to throw me over his shoulder and carry me up the stairs if I didn’t come of my own accord.

It didn’t take much persuasion.

Still… “I’ll never sleep tonight.” I climb into the huge bed wishing I could shut off my brain. “Burt said Julius Caesar had epilepsy, and he conquered half the known world.”

“Burt is such a fucking nitwit. He’s the biggest douche… A total tool—”

“I get it. But what if he ends up being right? What if we do this and something worse than seizures happens?” Dropping my head in my hands, I groan. “Oh, my Goood!”

Strong arms are around me at once. Stephen pulls me against his chest, and I rest my head against his warm skin, listening to his strong heartbeat. It soothes me.

“Eli is an amazing kid.” His voice is warm. “You’re giving him a gift.”

“Stephen Hawking was an amazing man. And he had major medical disabilities.”

Gripping my shoulders, Stephen holds me at arm’s length, looking sternly into my eyes. “And if Stephen Hawking had learned of a potential cure for amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, he would have tried it.”