A Heart Made New Read Online Free Page A

clear liquid hanging on a rack. “Feeling any better?”
    The medical clinic. The brown fake leather chairs and the smell of medicines mingled with antiseptics and cleansers were all too familiar. David struggled to sit up. “Where’s my mother? Is she all right?”
    “She’s in the waiting room. I’ll send her in after we talk.”
    David pushed away the sheet and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His head swam, making the room rock like a boat on a pond. “I’ll go to her. She should be at home resting after what she’s been through today.”
    “I checked her over thoroughly. She’s fine.” Doctor Corbin put his fingers on David’s wrist and glanced at his watch. “You, on the otherhand, are dehydrated. Until you get some fluids in you you’re not going anywhere. Do you think you can eat?”
    David sank back on the bed. “It’s hard to eat when everything tastes like sawdust, and it all comes back up anyway.”
    “Did you refill the prescription I gave you for the nausea?”
    Prescriptions cost money. Money they could ill afford to spend. “I will. As soon as I get out of here.”
    “You passed out. I’m keeping you overnight.” Doctor Corbin tapped his pen on the folder in his hand. “I’ll ask the nurse to get you something from the cafeteria. Any requests?”
    David stared at the window over the doctor’s shoulder. No sun backlit the blinds. How long had he been out? A night at the clinic only meant more bills. “I did too much. That’s all. I promise to go home and rest.”
    “Since I’ve heard that story from you before—too many times—I’m sticking with my original plan.” Doctor Corbin smiled and stuck the pen in the pocket of his white coat. “How about a cheeseburger and maybe some green beans? Some chocolate pudding for dessert? I know you like a good burger.”
    “I don’t lie.”
    “I’m not saying you do, David. I’m saying I’d rather you stay where we can monitor your condition overnight. When I see some improvement, you can go. Not before.”
    David clamped his mouth shut to keep from saying something ungracious. Doctor Corbin accommodated the Plain ways, as much as it was obvious he didn’t understand them. He never pushed the cancer support group on David. Once Bliss Creek’s first and only full-service medical clinic opened in the fall, the doctor never asked David to go back to Wichita where they had places that specialized in cancer treatment. “Fine.”
    “Do you want to see your mother now?”
    “Yes.”
    At the door, Doctor Corbin looked back. “Lie down.”
    “I won’t try to escape.”
    “I know. I’m asking you to lie down.”
    David did as the doctor asked. The door closed with a soft squeak.
    He stared at the ceiling, wishing he could do something, anything to ease the constant ache where his heart once resided. All of this meant nothing. He’d struggled through the first round of treatment with the certainty that he would be cured. Hodgkin’s lymphoma had a good recovery rate, according to Doctor Corbin. Every reason to have hope. The day Doctor Corbin announced he was in remission, David had asked Annie to a singing. Six months later, Doctor Corbin had sat across his desk from David and told him the cancer had returned.
    That was that. He refused to get his hopes up again. Worse, to get up Annie’s hopes. One person out on the crashing waves was enough.
    “Hi.”
    Startled, David rolled over to face the door. A young child, maybe six years old, peeked through the door. Given the bald head and nondescript hospital nightgown, David couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl. The child pointed a finger at him. “Who are you?”
    “David. Who are you?”
    Uninvited, the child padded barefoot into the room and climbed up on the chair, the gown so long it tangled up. “I’m Kinsey. Do you have cancer too?”
    Kinsey. Boy or girl name? Probably a fancy girl name.
    The shadows around her eyes and the gaunt look on her face were all too