The Change-Up

by Syd Parker

  Kevin shrugged. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “I’m your mother. I’m here to take care of you.”

  “I guess if I ignored it, I didn’t have to admit something was wrong. I don’t want anything to mess with baseball. So, I pushed through it.”

  Bellamy understood the struggle. Baseball was his life. Anything that interfered with that would definitely bother him. “Promise you won’t keep important things like this from me. We’ve only got each other to lean on.”

  That may have been true for most of Kevin’s years, but since Sawyer’s entrance into their lives, he felt like there was someone else they could rely on. He didn’t push the subject. He remembered the pain in his mother’s voice at Thanksgiving, and learning to let someone else in was going to have to be something his mother decided on her own. “Promise.”

  “Let’s focus on the issue and a…”

  Knock, knock. The door opened slowly, and Dr. Weller’s smiling face popped around the corner. “Hey, Kevin. Bellamy.”

  “Hi, Dr. Weller.” Kevin took the offered hand then watched as the doctor opened a manila folder and started leafing through pages. It didn’t matter that Sandy kept notes on the laptop; Dr. Weller still had her print the notes and add them to Kevin’s records. “Sandy tells me you’ve been fighting the flu for the last couple of weeks. It’s not uncommon to take two to three weeks to really get over the symptoms. I’m a little concerned about the fever hanging around. Have you noticed any improvement at all?”

  “Not really.”

  “The tiredness, is it worse with the illness or pretty much the same?”

  “A little worse, I guess.”

  “Tell me about the tiredness. Is it all the time? In the morning or afternoon? Does it come and go? Does it hit after periods of activity?”

  “It’s pretty much all the time.”

  Dr. Weller jotted some notes down in the file. “Are you getting plenty of sleep?”

  Kevin bowed his head sheepishly. “I am now. I sleep all the time.”

  “Has it gotten progressively worse since September?”

  “Uh-huh. I used to be able to just rest for a bit, but I’m wiped all the time now.”

  “What about the other symptoms? Did you have any of those prior to getting the flu?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Dr. Weller put down his pen. “I’m going to have you sit up here on the exam table.”

  Kevin stood up and slid as carefully as he could over the almost see through paper covering the table, trying not to tear it.

  Dr. Weller pulled a clean specula from a receptacle in the corner and placed it over his otoscope. “Let’s take a look around.” He put his hand on Kevin’s head and tilted it sideways, before flipping a switch that illuminated the end of the otoscope. He peered in both of Kevin’s ears, in his nostrils and finally at his throat. “I see some fluid in your ears and inflammation in your nasal passages, but that’s typical of a respiratory infection like the flu.” Dr. Weller pulled an ophthalmoscope from his lab coat. “Look straight ahead.” He focused the light of the device in Kevin’s eyes, looking for irregularities. Satisfied, he clicked the light off and slipped it back in his pocket. He reached up and placed his thumbs on Kevin’s neck, noting the swelling. “Any tenderness in your lymph nodes?”

  Kevin swallowed. “My throat hurts a little when I swallow.”

  Dr. Weller pulled his stethoscope from around his neck. He gestured to Kevin’s shirt, and waited as he pulled it up, giving the doctor access to his chest. “I want you to take a deep breath. Hold it then exhale.” Dr. Weller shifted the earpieces into his ears and slid the chest piece over Kevin’s back.

  Kevin jumped at the touch of the cold metal against his feverish skin, but he pushed the chill aside.

  “Deep breath. Again.” He moved the chest piece several more times and instructed Kevin to breathe deeply with each new position. “There’s definitely some fluid in your lungs. Let’s listen to your heart.” He closed his eyes and listened to the steady rhythm of his heart. After a few seconds, he pulled the stethoscope away and looped it over his neck as Sandy had done minutes before. “Everything sounds good.”

  Dr. Weller pulled the foot extension out on the table. “Let’s have you lay down for just a minute.”

  Kevin twisted on the table and laid down, his legs hanging over the edge.

  “I’m going to feel around your abdomen. Let me know if you have any discomfort or pain when I press down.” Dr. Weller began to tap Kevin’s abdomen, feeling for an enlarged liver or fluid on the abdomen. He palpated several areas to see if Kevin presented with any tenderness. “Are you feeling any pain or tenderness?”

  Kevin shook his head no.

  “Okay. You can have a seat back over here.”

  Kevin sat down next to his mother again.

  “Aside from your flu symptoms, everything looks good. I’m going to order some blood panels. Basic metabolic test and CBC. I’d like to rule out anemia or a thyroid issue. Let’s get a urinalysis as well.” Dr. Weller scribbled notes on a patient order form. He handed the sheets to Kevin. “You fasted last night?”

  “Yes.” Kevin took the papers and rolled them nervously.

  “Good. I’ll walk you to the lab.”

  Kevin didn’t say a word as he and his mother followed Dr. Weller out of the exam room. He gulped, trying to move the lump in his throat that made his breathing shallow.

  Bellamy squeezed Kevin’s shoulder reassuringly as she thanked his doctor.

  “Try not to worry too much. Senior year is tough, especially when you’re the star pitcher. This is probably your body’s way of telling you to slow down.”

  For the first time all day, Kevin started to relax. “Probably so. I’ve been practicing a lot lately. I want to make sure my game is perfect when I start at Delta in the fall.”

  “Just make sure you’re getting plenty of rest. You won’t do them any good if you’re half-asleep all the time. Besides, you all have a chance at state this year. You have to be on your game.”

  Kevin smiled shyly. “Yes, sir.”

  Dr. Weller stopped in front of an open door labeled Lab. “I’m going to leave you in Rose’s hands. She’ll get some blood work and get you out of here. Good luck this spring.”

  The lab technician glanced up from the patient she was working on and smiled. “I’ll take good care of him, Doctor. Have a seat; I’ll be right with you.”

  Bellamy sat down beside Kevin and leaned toward him. “Feeling better?”

  “Sure, I guess. He’s probably right. I’m worn out.”

  “I hope so. What do you say we stop by Bruster’s on the way home for a scoop of chocolate mudslide? It’ll be like old times.”

  “Okay.”

  “Kevin.” Rose patted a double seat with a padded arm extending around the front. “Have a seat. Do needles bother you?”

  “No, ma’am.” Kevin slid behind the arm rest and pulled back his sleeve.

  “Good.” Rose wrapped a piece of latex around Kevin’s bicep and cinched it tightly. “Make a fist for me. I’ll have you done in a jiffy.”

  Kevin nodded and closed his eyes, exhaustion overtaking him. Maybe Dr. Weller was right. Perhaps the flu was wreaking havoc on his body as a way of forcing him to slow down. He hoped it was that simple.

  “All set.” Rose placed a gauze pad over the needle prick and secured it with a Band-Aid. “We should have the results early next week. Sandy will give you a call when those are back in. Have a great day, Kevin.”

  Kevin calculated the hours as his mother took care of the copay. Early next week should mean Monday or Tuesday. That gave him seventy-two hours to wait. And do what? Sleep? He was tired of sleeping; tired of feeling like doing nothing. Without knowing it, Kevin groaned loudly.

  “Come on, Kev. Chocolate mudslide makes everything better.”

  Chapter Eleven

  February 2014

  Bellamy stared into the fireplace, watching th
e flames lick the firewood with careless abandon. There were only a handful of days she needed to resort to the extra heat, and this was one of them. A freak winter storm left parts of Georgia, including Atlanta, covered in ice, which meant a state of emergency in most cities. It seemed a perfectly acceptable reason to call herself in sick to work. She was certain her boss wouldn’t mind the lazy day.

  Her eyes flicked to her phone as she contemplated the call she needed to make. Kevin’s health was no better, and the initial tests revealed nothing other than an elevated white blood cell count. They were now on the second round of tests. Kevin had been a trooper, though, despite feeling as badly as he did. Bellamy picked up the phone and flipped through her phone book before finally finding the number in her contacts.

  She held her breath, silently counting the rings as they echoed in her ear. Typically, it would go to voicemail, the other party not able, or not caring enough, to pick up. She heard a click on the other end and opened her mouth to leave a message. “David, it’s Bellamy. I need…”

  “Bellamy? Hey.”

  She could hear his breathing in the background, shallow and heavy and knew she’d interrupted some activity. “I need to talk to you about Kevin.”

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “Have you spoken to him lately?” As she spoke the words, anger seethed below the surface. She knew months went by between David’s calls to his son, as he was effectively checked out of their lives.

  “Yeah, sure. A couple of weeks ago. Maybe a month. I can’t remember for sure.”

  Of course you can’t. If it doesn’t concern you, it isn’t a priority. She planned on making it one. “Has he mentioned to you what’s going on?”

  David paused; he could tell from Bellamy’s tone that she was upset. He tried to reconstruct the snippets of their last conversation. “Yeah, yeah. Something about going to Delta State and playing for his favorite coach.”

  Bellamy pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling slowly. She counted backwards from ten, hoping to remain civil. “That was months ago, David.”

  “Okay.” David cringed. When she said his name that way, he knew it meant trouble. Bellamy always emphasized the first syllable in his name, elongating the A even more than normal.

  “Kevin’s sick, David.”

  “Oh, yeah, I think he mentioned the flu or something.”

  David’s cavalier tone angered Bellamy even more. “It’s more than the flu. Your son has something seriously wrong.”

  “Oh.” David sat down, a wave of concern creasing his forehead. “What’s wrong, Bellamy?”

  “We’re not sure. The first round of tests came back negative for mono. His thyroid is fine. He’s lost a ton of weight. He’s tired all the time. The only thing we know so far is his white blood count is elevated; we just don’t know why.”

  “How long has he been sick?”

  “I started noticing the fatigue in the fall but didn’t get overly worried until he couldn’t kick the flu last month.”

  “You could have called me sooner.”

  “David.” Bellamy sighed loudly, her eternal frustration with David clearly evident. “You have been as uninvolved in our lives as possible. I’m sure you can imagine I wasn’t in a hurry to cry wolf to someone who doesn’t care enough to see his son on a regular basis.”

  “That’s not fair.” David’s tone cut through the phone. “You know how busy I am.”

  “Oh, I know. I’ve always known work comes first.”

  David groaned exasperatedly. “Can we put the David bashing on the back burner for the time being? Tell me what you need me to do.”

  Care. Have a clue. Put someone’s well-being ahead of your own. Love your son. The suggestions flew, but she bit her tongue. “I need to make sure that you can make Kevin’s health a priority, if need be. I’m not sure what is wrong, or what the treatment will be, but I need to know you are 100% behind us in the event it’s something life-altering.”

  “I can do that.” David lowered his head into his palm. Granted, he’d been a horrible father. But the news punched him squarely in the gut. “Can I talk to him?”

  “He’s asleep.” Bellamy shook her head, amazed that she was about to utter the next words. “Why don’t you come for dinner Sunday night? I know he would like to see you.”

  “I…” David paused, about to reject the offer as he had plans, but his guilt stopped him. He didn’t need to dig the hole any deeper. It was clear the image of him couldn’t get more tarnished. “I’d like that.”

  “David?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Be prepared. Kevin doesn’t look so good.”

  “Okay.” David wasn’t sure how to respond. He hadn’t seen Kevin in almost a year, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to bring that up. He wondered what not so good actually meant. He knew Bellamy wasn’t one to exaggerate, so he imagined it must be a stark contrast from the healthy young man he knew. “Bellamy? Thank you for telling me. I’ll do whatever Kevin needs.”

  Bellamy looked heavenward, saying a quick thank you. “Thank you, David. He is going to need it.” Bellamy confirmed the details for dinner Sunday before ending the call. Hearing David’s voice reminded her that once upon a time, she had loved him. Maybe she was never in love with him, but she had loved him. She realized, in retrospect, their marriage should never have happened. But that meant no Kevin, and she wouldn’t change anything about that.

  She set the phone on the table and cocked her head, listening for sounds that Kevin might be awake. She heard none. Her eyes flicked back to the fire, its embers holding her gaze in hypnotic fashion. It reminded her of simpler times; times with less worry.

  Hours later, the last of the embers disappeared with a last flickering nod to anyone who cared. The air began to chill around her, waking her from her trance. She reached over to grab a blanket, not inclined to fuss over the makings of a new fire. She settled into a comfortable spot, her eyelids not particularly disposed to worry about losing the war against fatigue. A bell pushed through the haze, signaling the need to reengage her mind. She roused herself with all the speed of a Southern belle devoted to frittering away a hot August day.

  Bellamy peered out the side light, surprised to see Sawyer standing on the other side of the door. She flung it open quickly and stepped aside to let Sawyer enter.

  “Hey.”

  “Hi.” Bellamy noted the red tinge in her cheeks immediately, the chill of the winter air giving them a rosy glow. It made her look younger, somehow. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

  “I’m in town celebrating V-Day with Mom and Dad.”

  Bellamy eyed Sawyer dubiously. “I thought the Jehovah’s didn’t celebrate holidays.”

  Sawyer’s laugh filled the small vestibule. “I’m kidding. It’s my dad’s birthday. I always come home to take him out for dinner.”

  “That’s very nice of you.” Bellamy suddenly remembered her manners and took the two bags Sawyer held at her sides. “I’m sorry. Take your coat off and come in. You can just throw it over the banister.”

  “You sure?” At Bellamy’s nod, Sawyer shrugged out of her coat and laid it over the stair rail. She slipped her boots off and left them by the door. Her stocking feet made little sound as she followed Bellamy into the kitchen.

  “What is this?” Bellamy set the bags on the island and sneaked a peek inside.

  “V-Day dinner for you and Kevin…if he’s feeling up for it. I took a chance you wouldn’t have plans. I got Ready Steak GO and an ice cream cake from DQ. Truly, the only acceptable way to celebrate a holiday that reminds us singles that we suck.”

  “Stop it.” Bellamy started pulling containers out of the bag. “How much food did you bring?”

  “Not much. I wasn’t sure what you guys liked, so I got an assortment. Steak tips, Ziti, chicken fingers, wings, a couple of sides.”

  “And dessert?”

  “Dessert is a given, I told you. Freezer okay?” Sawyer slipped the cake into the freezer before open
ing the take-out containers. “Is Kevin here?”

  “Sleeping.” Bellamy set about gathering plates and silverware.

  “No word?”

  Bellamy shook her head. “We are waiting on the second round of tests. So far, we know what it isn’t.”

  “And he’s feeling worse?”

  “Yes.” Worry creased Bellamy’s features, but she forced it away with a smile. “Ziti?”

  “No, thank you. Honestly, I sort of picked that for you. I’ll take some of the chicken fingers and steak tips.”

  Bellamy dished herself a healthy portion of the baked ziti before replacing the lid. “Are you allowed to eat fries with pasta?”

  “Why not?” Sawyer grabbed the container and shook half of it onto Bellamy’s plate. “Fries are a vehicle for ketchup, which is made from tomatoes. Pasta sauce is also made from tomatoes. Ergo, qualified vehicle for fries.”

  “Honestly, your reasoning baffles me, but…” Bellamy stuffed a fry in her mouth and chewed it with a satisfied moan. “…I want fries, so who am I to argue with such a sensible deduction.”

  “Exactly.” Sawyer helped herself to seasoned mushrooms and a small amount of fries.

  “What do you want to drink? I have wine, of course, and some pop in the fridge.”

  Sawyer thought about the wine, but opted against it. “I’ll have a soda.”

  “What kind?” Bellamy opened the fridge and called out the choices.

  “Um, I’ll have grape.”

  “Wanna a cup with ice?”

  “Nope, the can is good.” Sawyer popped the top and took a long swig. “I forgot how much I love grape soda.”

  “And yet you don’t love wine. How is that?”

  “Hm, can of high sugar and fake flavor versus little sugar and lots of bite. I’m not sure it’s even a contest.” Sawyer grabbed a fork and followed Bellamy into the living room. She settled in a chair opposite Bellamy, diving into her meal hungrily. “You use the fireplace today?”