Hand in Hand

The weeks tumbled by and for the most part J.C. didn't steal or borrow anything that didn't belong to him, at least not from the hospital. He still spent quite a bit of time at New Amsterdam along with a lot of time out and about with his new friend, which was beginning to give Max pause.

"Where's J.C.?" Max asked as he shed his coat as he entered the apartment.

"You're home early," Georgia said happily, looking up from her dinner preparation.

"Yeah, I can hardly believe it myself. Where's the boy?" He said as he collapsed on the couch.

"Union Square at the playground, Evelyn's Playground, I think it's called."

"Who is he with?"

"Who else?"

"Paulie."

"Does she live over that way?"

"I'm not sure. I think I asked once but never got an answer. Anyway, I've kept an eye on his location," she said holding up her phone. "He's where he's supposed to be. I was just about to text him and tell him to head home. I had planned on walking over there and picking him up, but you're home now."

"How about I go pick him up?"

"Sounds great, if your sure? I really could use the exercise though." She said twisting her lips in indecision.

"I could use the fresh air."

"Okay then, I won't complain. My hips are killing me."

Max pushed himself up off of the couch, grabbing his coat as he did so, and walked over to Georgia and gave her a kiss. She showed him the dot that represented their son. "Tell Paulie that she is welcome to come for dinner."

"I will." He said distractedly as he slipped his arms into his jacket.

"What is it?"

"I know you're watching him on his phone, but that just indicates where his phone is, which might not be where he is. I just get a little nervous with him being outside, blocks away, alone."

"Dr. Mayfield and Dr. Frome both said we needed to give him a little bit of freedom. The park isn't that far and he has always been responsible when I've allowed him to go. Plus I followed him the first three times he went there."

"You did?"

"Oh yeah. I watched him for a while and then came home before he spotted me. He went where he said he was going, he waited for the light before crossing the street and he didn't talk to any strangers."

"Did you ever see Paulie?"

She shook her head. "No, not that I know of. He always seemed to be alone."

Max flipped his hood up and headed towards the door. "We'll be back soon."

He hit the sidewalk and headed towards the park as people bobbed and weaved around each other in their attempts at moving further and faster. He sighed as he thought of his son. He was afraid that the boy was spending far too much time with this girl. A girl whose parents or guardian he had never met. A girl whose apartment he didn't know. A girl, he didn't know. Max was far from a helicopter parent, but he had met all of J.C.'s friends and most of their parents, until now that was.

He was proud of what J.C. had done in befriending this girl, but it suddenly seemed that so much of J.C.'s time and energy went to this girl and her needs. It made Max wonder just how healthy this relationship was. J.C. seemed consumed by this new friend even foregoing some evenings at the hospital. He had even missed a session with Iggy last week claiming he forgot and said he had stayed after school to help Paulie with her homework. He had been caught taking things from the lost and found box at the hospital that might fit her, along with siphoning off some of Georgia's shampoo and a box of snack cakes that had been squirreled away. Oh, and of course the entire eye wear donation box from the clinic. He feared that J.C. was getting too involved and the ending might not be the fairy tale that his son had hoped it would be.

As he prepared to cross the last street, he could hear the chatter and laughter of children over the street noise. He thought of the pending birth of his daughter and as happy and excited as that made him he couldn't quite embrace it in its entirety. Not with his first born, enduring some kind of purgatory, in between memories, reality and fear. Perhaps Luna's birth will redirect everything towards a brighter future. At least he could hope as much. They both needed a positive outlook on their lives.

A few weeks before, Max had caught him trying to access his laptop. J.C. lied about it of course, but he was a lousy liar and he saw right through whatever weak excuse had been offered up. He was certain that the boy was trying to find the video from Uganda. For that reason he had used a math calculation for a prescription that would make no sense to anyone outside the medical field. No sentimentalism in his choice of protection.

As he stepped onto the playground he saw J.C. jumping from some kind of climbing apparatus. His sweatshirt flipped up and Max saw how thin he was. He knew his sons eating habits were way off track and had been since his return from Africa. At first he left him alone, since the trauma had been so fresh, he hadn't wanted to push him. Then it was the job at New Amsterdam that took his attention. Next was the emergency with Georgia and Luna. After that was his cancer diagnosis. Then his near death experience. Now, well now, he wasn't sure what he could blame—his treatments, his job, the treatments and the job? Everything?

"Dad!" J.C. yelled running over and slamming into him. Max opened his arms up and embraced his son. "You're home early."

"Yes I am. Is Paulie here? Georgia asked if she could come to dinner."

"She just left. I was climbing my way out of the playground to come home."

"I'm sorry that I missed her. I was hoping to finally meet her." Max said looking across the play area for a girl with pink glasses.

"Yep. She had to get home." J.C. said smoothing out his sweatshirt.

"Where does she live?"

"That way," J.C. said waving in every general direction behind him, giving Max absolutely no indication of anything. "Let's go," he urged tugging Max towards the street.

"Okay, okay. I'm hungry, what about you?"

"Sure," J.C. said with no conviction. Max reached down and grabbed for his son's hand and took it in his own as they neared the curb. "Dad, I'm not a baby. I don't need you to hold my hand. I made it here all by myself." J.C. said as he looked up at his father.

Max looked down and wished for a moment that he was still a baby, that they could start all over again. That he could erase the last several months and all the horror that it had brought. But of course he held no such power so he smiled and gave a nod as he released his sons hand. "I'm so sorry young man. You lead the way."

J.C. nodded and looked at the collection of cars and the traffic lights, waiting for their turn to go. As the lights slipped to their opposing colors, Max felt his son's small hand slip back into his, he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes for just a moment, feeling for a brief second, that all was right in the world.

As they continued their journey J.C. chattered away about his day, but seemed to give no actual details about anything. Max truly wanted to believe that everything was okay. He wanted to forget that his son woke up in the throes of a nightmare at least once a night, tangled up in his sheets, his brow sweaty, and panting as if he had just run for his life. He wanted to forget that J.C.'s favorite sleeping position was the fetal position, going back to a time in his life where nothing could hurt him. He wanted to forget that his son pushed away nutrition just as his nightmares pushed away his sleep. He wanted to forget that despite his son's survival, he had lost part of himself that day, and it was entirely possible—probable, that he would never get it back.

"Do you have homework?" Max asked as he realized that J.C. had stopped talking.

"Yep. A lot," he admitted.

"Well, you should probably get started when we get home."

"Okay."

Once home J.C. happily skittered off into his room and away from the scent of food.

"Dinner will be ready soon. I had the pot roast in the crock pot thinking you wouldn't be joining us. But since you're here, I thought mashed potatoes would go down easy and I can put some peas and the meat in the blender for you."

"Definitely," Max agreed, hoping his appetite would be ready for the meal. "How much does J.C. eat for dinner?"

"Well, many night's he's with you at the hospital," she reminded Max, whose heart dropped from his chest as he realized that most nights he never followed up on J.C. to see what he had or hadn't eaten. He had started an account in the cafeteria that allowed J.C. to purchase food at any time and put it on Max's tab. But he hadn't thought to check the charges to see if J.C. had actually purchased anything or eaten it.

"But, at home," Georgia continued, "he'll eventually work his way through a small portion. I figure something is better than nothing and sometimes he'll even eat a snack later in the evening. I know you're concerned about his eating habits. So am I. But I 'm so afraid that'll I'll say the wrong thing and he won't eat anything. Do you know if he talks to Iggy about it in his sessions?"

"No, I don't know," Max said, looking up as he tore himself away from the depths of his concern.

"I know that the court date is coming up and you want J.C. to show the rewards of being in a stable environment, but there's no way that Karen isn't going to notice his weight loss. I mean he wasn't carrying any extra weight when he left for the trip, but, well—there's no denying he's lost weight since his return."

"I imagine that Iggy would be trying to gain understanding of J.C.'s reasons not to eat." Max offered, wishing that his son could just open up to him, but then would he be there to listen? Would he be able to hear what his son had to tell him?

"I'm sure he's attempting to get to the heart of it all. Treat the disease not just the symptoms as they say, Dr. Goodwin," Georgia said leaning over for a kiss. "You okay?" She asked as Max was still distant.

"Yeah. Fine." He answered, thinking how could he be okay? How could any of this be okay? "Just, thinking about the court date. What will the judge ask, will Karen be there or will she just send her lawyer and what will the judge think of that. And oh, the fact that I haven't even mentioned this to J.C. and when I do, how will he respond." He was also thinking about how much his throat hurt all the time. How well the treatments would attack his cancer and how much it would shatter his entire being. Add to that the loss of Dean Fulton and how things might change at the hospital. Would he be able to continue the quest he had set out on. Would any of his efforts even matter?

"He knows you love him very much and only want what's best for him. Besides, I don't think he has any great desire to go overseas again anytime soon." Georgia continued.

"So, you've never met Paulie? Right?" Max asked changing the subject.

"Never. I even walked to the school to meet him a few times in hopes that I could catch sight of her. Why?"

"It's just that, he has spent so much time with her and neither one of us has met her. I don't like it. Why is he hiding her? Or why is she hiding from us?"

"Because they're eleven and eleven year old kid's are mysterious. I wouldn't worry too much about it."

Max looked over with a tight smile and went into the bedroom to change clothes.

Twenty minutes later at the dinner table, J.C. picked at his food, pushing it around and around, displacing peas and mashing already mashed potatoes, but so far very little of it had made it to his mouth.

"Quit playing with it and eat it," Max ordered. His fatigue had crept up and held him like a vise and any patience that he may have held had slipped away as he tried to hang on and participate in not only this dinner but in life in general.

"I'm done," J.C. said as he stood up.

"Freeze. Sit down. You're not done. You don't tell us when your done. You asked to be excused." Max commanded.

"Fine. Can I be excused," J.C. huffed.

"No. Not until you eat." Max stated sternly.

"But I don't want to eat," he complained as he sat back down.

"You need to eat," Max replied. "Why can't you just eat a meal without complaining? You've seen people who never have enough to eat and what it does to them. You have a perfectly good meal in front of you and you aren't going to get up until you eat it." He said looking at his own mound of mashed potatoes next to his glass of meat and peas, the straw leaning away from him.

J.C. looked down at his plate that held a strip of pot roast along with the aforementioned side dishes. He poked at the meat and grimaced. "Meat is gross."

Max dropped his fork onto his plate, causing a clatter that made Georgia jump. "Can you eat your peas for me?" She asked gently, giving the boy a supportive look.

J.C. looked down at this plate as if it was his enemy, but he stabbed at his peas one by one until they were gone. "There, can I go now?"

"Is your plate empty?" Max asked.

"No," J.C. replied.

"Then no you can't," Max snapped.

"How about you eat you're potatoes," Georgia coaxed.

"And your meat," Max added.

"Meat's—"

"Gross, I know," Max finished, clearly frustrated.

"How about you eat your potatoes and three pieces of meat," Georgia negotiated.

J.C. sighed but began to work on the food in front of him, starting with the potatoes and taking tiny bites of meat leaving most of it there. "There, I did what you wanted. I'm done." He said folding his arms across his chest.

Max got up and went around the table and cut off two more pieces of meat. "Eat those and then you may be excused."

"No," J.C. said wanting to stand up, but with Max standing next to him there was no room.

"I'm not going to argue with you Jason."

"I'm not going to eat that."

"Max, he ate most of his dinner. He can have a snack later." Georgia offered.

"No. He needs to eat. God only knows what he does or doesn't eat when he isn't supervised." Max said looking over at his wife. He was aware that some of this frustration was directed at himself for not monitoring his son while in his care, but as often happens, the blame gets turned outward. While he was distracted J.C. slipped out of his chair and under the table, popping out on the other side and began to walk to his room. "Hey. Get back here young man."

Georgia stood up. "Max just let him go."

"I am not going to negotiate, beg and plead for him to eat every damn day. This is getting ridiculous." Max answered, clearly frustrated.

"I know. But we have to go about the right way. Talk to Iggy, Dr. Mayfield. We have to find out the source of this issue, yelling and berating him isn't going to solve anything."

Max wanted to follow his son, demand that he finish his dinner, eat more, shape up, be normal. But as he watched his son disappear into his room, he realized he didn't have the heart or the words and J.C. simply didn't have the strength, desire or the means.

Playlist: (at the very end of the chapter)

Such A Simple Thing by Ray LaMontagne