Chapter 9 - The Paper That Stayed on the Counter
The lights were too bright. I remember that first. They buzzed a little over my head and made Dad's shirt look whiter than at home. I sat on the crinkly paper on the table and held my bear tight under my good arm. My other arm had the white wrap from last time. It itched around the edges.
Dad stood right next to me. Not by the door. Right next to me where I could feel his sleeve. He had his sleeves rolled up again and his watch on. He kept touching my knee with the side of his hand. Light, just there.
"The recheck girl is back," a nurse said, and smiled at my bear. "Does he need a checkup too?"
I shook my head and tucked him closer. Dad smiled a little but his eyes stayed on my arm.
Then Dr. Harris came in with his glasses and his white coat. He washed his hands at the sink for a long time. I watched the soap bubbles. The room smelled clean and cold, not steamy like our bathroom.
"Hi, Ellie," he said. His voice was low. "Remember me?"
I nodded.
"That's good. We're going to take a peek. Nice and slow, okay?"
He rolled a little tray over. There was fresh white gauze and tape and a bottle. He put on gloves. They made a soft snap sound.
Dad leaned in. "You want to sit on my lap for this part?" he asked me.
I shook my head again. I wanted to sit big on the paper. But I moved my legs so my shoe touched his leg. He didn't move away.
Dr. Harris started at the edge of the tape. He lifted just a tiny bit. "Tell me if it pulls," he said.
It pulled a little. I breathed in fast through my nose. Dad put his hand flat on my back.
"You're doing good," Dad said. Quiet.
The doctor peeled slow. The gauze came off sticky in one spot. Underneath my skin was pink and shiny and new. It looked tight. There were spots that were lighter. It didn't look like the red mark from the tub anymore. It looked flatter.
I stared at it. I didn't like how it shone under the light.
"No yucky stuff," Dr. Harris said, looking close. "That's what we want to see." He touched around the edge with one finger, very light. "Does this hurt?"
"A little," I said.
"How about here?" He pointed, didn't touch the middle.
I shook my head.
"Good. That's healing," he said to Dad. "No sign of infection. The skin is coming back the way it should. Pain less than last time?"
Dad nodded. "She slept better. She let me wash around it last night without crying."
"That's progress," Dr. Harris said. He opened the new gauze. He cleaned around the spot with something cool that smelled sharp. I flinched. He waited.
"Blow on it?" Dad asked me.
I blew. My breath shook. Dad blew with me, soft, and that made me feel less silly.
Dr. Harris laid the fresh white wrap on. Not too tight. He taped the ends down smooth. He wrote something on a paper on his clipboard.
"You keep that bear with you," he said to me. "He's doing his job."
I hugged him tighter.
Then Dr. Harris pulled his stool closer. The wheels squeaked. He sat so his eyes were almost even with mine. Dad's hand stayed on my back.
"Ellie, can I ask you a couple easy questions?" he asked. "Just so I get it right in my notes. Is that okay?"
I looked at Dad. Dad nodded once. "You can tell the truth. It's safe."
I nodded back at the doctor.
"Can you tell me what happened in the tub?" Dr. Harris asked.
My throat felt dry. The buzzing light sounded louder.
"Hot," I said.
He waited. He didn't rush.
"Water was hot," I said. "It hurt my arm."
"Did you tell someone it hurt?" he asked.
I nodded. I squeezed my bear's ear.
"Use your words for me," he said, gentle. "Who did you tell?"
"Daddy," I said. I looked down at the shiny skin peeking out. "It hurt."
Dad's hand pressed a little firmer on my back. I could hear him breathe.
"Were you alone in the water?" Dr. Harris asked.
I thought about Vanessa standing by the sink. The cardigan sleeves. The steam. I didn't know the right words.
"Vanessa was there," I said. "Then Daddy came."
Dr. Harris wrote that down. His pen scratched. "Thank you. That helps a lot. You're being very clear."
He turned to Dad then, but still talked plain so I could hear. "Mr. Miller, I have to write down exactly what I see and what Ellie says. Every burn in a little kid gets a note. That's my job. It's the rule for doctors."
Dad's jaw moved. "I understand."
"It's not because you're in trouble," Dr. Harris said. "It's so we keep her safe and we all have the same plan. Healing is good. Care at home has been good. Because she needed that clinic visit and now this recheck, I have to send a referral to our social worker here. Just for safety planning."
My stomach dropped. I didn't know that word all the way, but worker sounded like someone who takes you somewhere.
Dad must have felt me go stiff. He stepped closer and put both hands on my sides, careful of my arm.
"Does that mean—" Dad started, then stopped. He cleared his throat. "Does that mean she leaves?"
"No," Dr. Harris said right away. Firm but kind. "This is not removal. This is a visit to talk about bath safety, water temperature, who does baths, what to do if water is too hot. You will be there. Ellie will be there."
I looked up at Dad. His eyes were wet around the edges but he wasn't crying. He nodded slow.
"When?" Dad asked.
"She'll call you. Probably in the next day or two," Dr. Harris said. He tore a small paper off a pad and handed it to Dad. "Lower heater setting like we talked about. Keep testing with your wrist and the thermometer if you got one. Keep the wrap clean and dry. Same cream."
Dad folded the paper and put it in his pocket. "We turned it down. I'm doing baths now. Only me."
Dr. Harris wrote that too. "Good. I'll put that in."
He stood and patted the table near my shoe, not me. "You did great, Ellie. Same bear next time?"
I nodded and held him up a little so the doctor could see. Dr. Harris smiled behind his glasses.
In the car Dad didn't start the engine right away. He sat with his hands on the wheel and looked at the clinic doors in the mirror. I was buckled in the back with my bear on my lap, my fresh wrap clean against my sleeve.
"You okay, ladybug?" he asked.
I nodded, then shook my head a little because my arm throbbed under the new gauze.
May you like
He turned around and reached back and held my shoe for a second. "Nobody's taking you anywhere," he said. "That lady just wants to talk about safe baths. I'll be right there the whole time."
I held my bear tighter and watched the bright building get smaller as we backed out. I didn't want to go back to bright lights again, but Dad said he would stay, and his watch glinted when he turned the wheel.
