Chapter 73.

Find a Way

November 20, 2020

"Got a sec?"

Cristina looked up, eyes adjusting to a bright office after staring into a dim tablet screen for over an hour. Another form was loading, begging for attention, but she set the whole thing down on her desk. Shane was in her doorway, looking a little uncomfortable to be there.

Since everything happened, they rarely spoke outside of work issues.

She said, "Yeah, sure. What's up?"

"Patricia Waylon's pediatrician just sent over her wellness exam. She reached all the normal milestones for her age with no obvious abnormalities."

Patricia was a valve patient. She was never going to live past five without intervention.

It was fantastic news, and Cristina mustered a "Good" but little else.

Shane lingered. "What's wrong?"

She snorted. "What's wrong? How about my mom moved to town and haunts my every waking moment now."

"Your mom moved to Seattle?"

"Oh, yeah. Big time. Same city – not enough, no way. She moved down the street from me. Every time I look up, she's in my house." Now that the cork was out, Cristina could not help the flood of complaints. "I was trying to take a relaxing bath yesterday and she bursts into the bathroom like I'm still four years old to harass me about repainting the living room!"

"Jeez."

"Yeah, jeez."

"She watches the kids at least, right?"

"I mean, yeah, but no amount of convenient babysitting will make it worth it to have her up my ass every day. And, god, poor Wyatt. He's been in hiding for over a week. Mom squashes him like a little bug under her finger."

Shane winced, took a few more steps into the office. "How is Collin doing?"

"Col is good. Really good, actually. Oliver has been doing a lot of work with him, you know, getting him to open up. You should come over and see him."

His discomfort was immediate, profound. "I'm not sure if-"

"Please," Cristina cut in, letting her desperation show. "Shane, we have to find a way to fix this. Please, come have dinner with us."

Shane hesitated, and then nodded, "Okay."

XxXxX

"Okay, here's my big idea. We unite and kill her."

Wyatt only came up with a little half-smile. He was sitting at the table, his cheek resting heavily on his palm, looking like a miserable kid.

Cristina punched him lightly on the shoulder, "Hey, bud, buck up. It can't be that bad."

"Yesterday she asked me why I'm not an attending yet. I don't know how to answer that."

Wyatt was still a resident, far along in his training and independence, but lacking something critical that kept him back. Cristina felt for him, had asked a few questions on his behalf, but when it came down to it she had no power to help him move up.

And their mother was certainly not helping by applying pressure.

Collin came bounding around the corner, his distinctive limp separating him from the other children. It was easy to tell when he was on the way. He brought a block to Wyatt, handed it over, said, firmly, "Keep this," and ran off again.

Wyatt wordlessly slipped the block into his pocket, going on like nothing happened, "If she asks me again I might…" he groaned.

"Might…?" Cristina was occasionally concerned he would snap and kill someone. Wyatt was odd, not exactly socially normal. He had no friends, no strong relationships apart from her and their parents – not healthy.

He ran his hands over his head, fluffing his shiny black hair. Just like their mother used to have. "Move to another hospital, maybe, and not tell her where."

Cristina snorted, "She would hunt you down. She always does."

A knock came at the door. Shane.

Cristina let him in, smiling, trying to make him more comfortable. He seemed very out of place, a sharp contrast to how close they used to be.

He sat at the opposite end of the table from her when dinner was served.

Owen gave her a sidelong look, questioning, and Cristina took his hand on the table, squeezing, assuring him that she was alright with however this went. He was not overly fond of her former friend, but he had agreed to this. Probably because she seemed so desperate on the phone.

When the food was gone and the conversation lulled, Shane got up to wander the house. Cristina spotted him talking quietly to Collin, smiling, and felt a warm wave go through her. She didn't get to see him smile much anymore. He kept it from her, like he kept himself from her.

"How are you?" Owen asked softly, facing away from their guests to keep the words between them.

"Fine, why? Do I not look fine?"

"You look… wistful."

Cristina pulled him in, gave him a light kiss, and pushed him away again, smiling, "I'm fine."

But then she noticed that Shane was looking at the pictures on the wall – specifically a picture of Henry smiling and holding a toy.

Somehow, he knew she was looking at him.

He looked up and they locked eyes.

She saw pain and regret in him.

Cristina approached, glancing at the picture, feeling the same pang. His son, an accident, a part of her life that was stolen away.

"I should go," he said, and gave no time for a response. He turned and headed for the door.

Cristina turned too, not willing to watch him go.

Owen was watching her, soft understanding in his eyes.

But she could not accept his comfort right now. She went out the back, sat alone in one of their lounge chairs, staring at the sky, puffing out breaths to keep tears away.

She thought for the first time that she might never have a relationship with Shane again.

She was alone for ten minutes before the door cracked open and her son crept out. Collin limped over and crawled into her lap, laying against her chest and looking up at the sky. It was chilly out, but he had put his jacket on. Cristina was the one who was underdressed.

"Where'd Shane go?" Collin asked quietly.

Cristina had to get used to him talking now. He did it more and more, mostly to her.

She said, "He had something he had to do. I'm sorry he couldn't stay longer." She stroked his long, curly blonde hair out of his face.

Collin thought on that, and then said, "Can he come over again? I miss him."

"Yeah, I hope so. I'll find a way."

She had to.