I chuckled. “I’m sure he’s talked to you about a lot of things.”

  “Yes, he’s quite the chatty Cathy, isn’t he?” she said with a grin as she pulled open a medical file and began reading.

  A few minutes later she started asking questions.

  “So Jaxon has been complaining of tummy aches and he’s been getting fevers, right?”

  “Just randomly,” Addison said quickly. I could tell she was nervous.

  “Does he also seem fatigued?”

  I laughed. “Jaxon doesn’t ever get fatigued,” I said.

  “Unless he’s feeling bad,” Addison answered. “Then he’ll curl up on Jason’s lap and fall asleep.”

  Dr. Laabs nodded and stood up, coming around the desk and leaning up against it.

  Taking a deep breath, she began speaking. “Here’s the deal. When we drew blood the other day, we did a CBC and white blood cell count. He’s anemic for sure. But his white blood cell count is also extremely high…just about off the charts. And his platelets are very, very low.”

  She stopped talking while we let that sink in for a minute.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you’re telling us,” I finally said.

  “In layman’s terms, he apparently has a really bad infection. However, he doesn’t have any of the normal symptoms associated with an infection, no fluid in the ear, no sore throat, no upper respiratory illness. Whatever is happening is staying pretty hidden.”

  I looked over at Addison, whose face was drained of any normal color. “So what does that mean?” she whispered.

  “That’s the part that we don’t know quite yet,” Dr. Laabs said, crossing her arms. “I’m not going to beat around the bush or make it sound better than it is. It could very well be a really bad infection in his blood that we can’t see in routine tests. Or it could be a genetic disorder, an autoimmune disease.” She paused before dropping the bombshell on us. “Or it could be cancer.”

  I heard Addison gasp, and I grabbed her hand. This was way more serious than either of us anticipated, and I wasn’t sure what to do or say. So I held on to Addison like a lifeline as I felt my entire body go numb.

  “I don’t want you to jump to conclusions yet,” she added quickly. “I just don’t want to downplay whatever is going on and have you blindsided later. I’m referring Jaxon to a hematologist/oncologist at Texas Memorial Children’s Hospital. They’ll run some more tests and figure out how serious this actually is. My scheduler is already working on making an appointment for him as soon as possible since this has been going on for a couple weeks now.”

  She stayed quiet for a few minutes as we absorbed everything she had just said.

  Jaxon was going to an oncologist.

  Jaxon might have cancer.

  My little boy…my son…might be…he might be….

  I refused to think the words as soon as they crossed my mind. My job was to protect this family, and if it took every last remaining cent I had, that’s what I was determined to do.

  I forced myself back into the conversation with the doctor and started firing off questions.

  “What kind of test will they do there?”

  “Most likely they’ll draw more blood first. If they don’t like the results, he’ll probably have to do a bone marrow biopsy. That way they can determine exactly what’s causing all of Jaxon’s symptoms and what course of treatment will be the best options.”

  “What is the likelihood that it’s actually cancer?”

  “That’s a hard question to answer. Ninety percent of the time when a patient’s counts appear out of control like it is, it indicates some form cancer. But I don’t want you to get ahead of yourselves. There are still several other things it could be. You don’t want to rule anything out just yet.”

  “But no matter what, there is something serious going on that will need to be treated?”

  She paused at that question. “Mr. Hart…Jason, Jaxon is very sick. So far, we’ve been lucky that he’s only displayed these symptoms for a few weeks, which means we’ve caught it, whatever it is, relatively early. But short answer…yes. Something serious is going on, and you are probably in for a long haul.”

  I looked over at Addison, who was white as a sheet and staring off into space. “Baby,” I said, turning in my seat to look at her straight on. “Baby, look at me.”

  She slowly turned to look at me, and I saw the tears in her eyes. “Jason,” she whispered. “I can’t lose my baby boy. I just can’t…” And that’s when her tears started falling.

  I pulled her to me and sat her on my lap while she wept. I could practically feel her fear. I was feeling the exact same way.

  “We’re gonna do everything we can, baby,” I whispered into her hair. “I just got him. He’s not going anywhere. He’s just not.”

  Dr. Laabs remained silent as Addison got out all of the excess emotion she was feeling. Once she was calm, had cleaned her face with a tissue, and was sitting back in her chair, Dr. Laabs answered the rest of our questions. There weren’t many. Without a diagnosis or a treatment plan, there wasn’t a lot she could tell us. After just a few minutes, it became clear that Dr. Laabs was only the first stop in what may have been a long line of doctors.

  We drove in silence to Deuce’s house. While I wasn’t sure what to say to Jax, I had this overwhelming urge to be near him. I didn’t want him at Deuce’s house, I wanted him home with me. It was a stupid feeling. It wasn’t like I could protect him from some random disease that was inside his body. But that didn’t mean my protective instinct was any less strong.

  I drove up the long driveway and put my truck in park.

  “I think we should tell Deuce and Vanessa,” I said, still looking out the windshield.

  “Why?”

  I took a breath and turned to look at my wife. “Because I don’t feel like we should tell anyone else yet. My mom will freak out and want to spend all her time at the house. I don’t trust Samantha not to blast it all over social media before we’re ready. And no telling what Mick will do. Deuce and Vanessa already know something’s up,” I said, nodding my head toward their front door. “And even if it’s not today, we’re going to need to vent a little while we’re still waiting. Not to mention, we could need more babysitting. We might as well be honest with them.”

  She sighed and nodded her head. “I agree. And they’ll give us some space. I’m not really ready to have our family bombard us quite yet. We’re gonna need them later on. And I kind of just want to be….I don’t know…”

  “You want it to be just us for a few more days.”

  “Yeah,” she said, looking back over at me with more tears in her eyes. “I’m not ready to let go of my fairytale life just yet.”

  I grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles. “It’s going to be okay, Addison,” I said, my voice wavering a bit as more emotion swept through me. “I know money can’t buy health. But if we have to, we’ll pay for whatever treatments he needs—the best doctors and medicines available. If this is all my contract is for, I’ll do my damnedest to make as much money as I can for as long as he needs it.”

  She reached up to cup my cheek with her free hand and wipe a tear that had slid down my face. “I know, baby. I know you will. Because you are the best daddy Jaxon could ever ask for.”

  I kissed her knuckles again. “Come on. Let’s get this over with,” I said as I turned to open the truck door.

  “Wait!” Addison said quickly. “What are we going to tell Jaxon?”

  I stopped and turned back around to look at her. “The simplest answer that makes any sense. I’m not sure what a fallback answer would be this time, though.”

  I jumped out of the truck and ran around to let her out too. When I grabbed her hand and led her up the front steps, I could feel her shaking. As I rang the doorbell, I wondered if I was shaking, too. I was full of so many weird feelings, I just couldn’t tell.

  Deuce opened the door with his characteristic ornery smile on his face. “Hey! You lovebirds decided against going to lunch, I see!” As he looked at our faces, his expression fell. “What the hell is wrong?”

  “Where are the boys?” I asked as we stepped inside the foyer.

  “In the playroom, making towers and knocking them over,” he said, shutting the door behind us. “What’s wrong?”

  I sighed. “Where’s Vanessa?” Addison asked. “We need to talk to you guys.”

  Deuce went to get Vanessa as Addison and I made our way over to the kitchen table. Deuce’s house was about two thousand square feet larger than ours. He wasn’t trying to keep up with the Jones’s or anything. He was just really impulsive when he got excited, and according to Vanessa, he got really excited when they toured this house. Personally, I thought it was way too big, but it was Deuce’s money. And Deuce’s problem.

  “Hey guys,” Vanessa said as she made her way into the kitchen and sat down warily. “I just turned a movie on for the boys, so they should be entertained for a while. And you guys don’t look so good.”

  Deuce handed me a beer and Addison a Dr. Pepper as he sat down. He knew us well.

  As Addison sighed, I grabbed her hand and launched into the details of everything we had just learned. When I was done, Deuce sat back and crossed his arms.

  “Of course, we’re here for anything you need,” Vanessa said. “Is there anything we can do right now?”

  Addison looked up and smiled at her. “Honestly, right now we just want to spend the next couple of days wrapping our brains around everything. We’re not telling our families until we know more.”

  “Were they able to set an appointment yet?” Vanessa asked.

  “Yep,” Addison nodded. “Friday morning at Texas Memorial Children’s.”

  “Well, we’re here for whatever you need,” Vanessa added. “No matter what the diagnosis.”

  “Thanks, Vanessa,” Addison added.

  “I think you need to give Adam a heads up,” Deuce interjected. “Didn’t he say you picked up three new sponsors the other day?”

  I nodded.

  “He may need to be ready to reschedule some of those photo and commercial shoots. And to be ready for anything the press throws his way. You know how quickly stuff like this can get out,” Deuce added.

  I nodded again. He was right. Working with sponsors didn’t take up as much time as football did. But it still took several hours at a time. If I needed to be at any of Jaxon’s appointments, and I really felt like I needed to be, my schedule was going to need to be arranged carefully.

  Just then, Jaxon came barreling into the room.

  “Jason! Mom! You’re back!” he exclaimed as he flew into my arms with a smile on his face. I immediately changed my expression and forced myself to look happy. “Did you have fun at the doctor? What did she say?”

  “She just said we need to take you to another doctor to figure out what’s going on,” I answered, trying to stay with the simplest answer I could come up with.

  “How come? Is she not smart enough to figure it out?” he asked seriously.

  I smirked. “Nah. Apparently you’ve stumped her, buddy.”

  “Oh. Okay. Can we get some pizza on the way home?” he asked, switching gears quickly. “Trace slobbered all over my snacks before he fell asleep.”

  “Of course,” I said, ruffling his hair. “Why don’t you go grab your shoes and we’ll head out.”

  “‘K,” he answered as he bounded away.

  I turned to Addison. “How was that for simplest answer and hope for the best?”

  She smiled at me and grabbed my hand. “Well done, Dad. I think you’re getting the hang of it.”

  The day of Jaxon’s bone marrow biopsy, I’d thought it was one of the worst things that could happen.

  I was wrong. So, so wrong.

  Don’t misunderstand…that day was awful. Of course, the second round of intense blood work didn’t show anything we didn’t already know. So, while Addison and I anxiously sat in the parents’ waiting room¸ Jaxon had a gigantic needle shoved into his hip bone so they could get some bone marrow out of him. Sure, they gave him laughing gas since he had to be awake for the procedure, for whatever reason. But he still cried and kept asking us to take him home after it was over. It was miserable.

  But that was nothing compared to the overwhelming anxiety of this day, because this day we were finding out the diagnosis and all our treatment options.

  Addison and I were ushered into a giant conference room, where it seemed like dozens of people were already waiting for us, including Adam and Judy, the team PR representative.

  I looked over at Addison, who seemed to be thinking the same thing I was… This many people in the room wasn’t a good sign.

  A stout, redheaded woman stood up and came toward us.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Hart, my name is Debbie Benton,” she said, introducing herself and shaking our hands. “I’m going to be Jaxon’s nurse practitioner. Won’t you have a seat and we’ll make introductions.”

  Addison and I took a seat by Adam and looked around. Fortunately, Adam came prepared and had a notebook in front of him. I had no idea how much of the information we were about to get was going to be retained, and I had been too nervous to even think about it until now.

  “I’m going to quickly introduce everyone to you,” Debbie said once we were settled in. “We don’t expect you to remember everyone’s names today, but everyone here will be on Jaxon’s diagnostic team.”

  Jaxon’s diagnostic team. He didn’t even have an official diagnosis yet, and he already had a diagnostic team? Being in this room already felt surreal.

  “This is Dr. Don Bates,” she said, gesturing to a man in a white lab coat sitting next to her. “He is Jaxon’s new pediatric oncologist. He’s head of the department and is one of the best oncologists in the country.” She then gestured to the woman on her right and continued around the table. “This is Kristina Lowe, Jaxon’s research nurse; Elizabeth Dalton, Child Life Specialist; and Ruth Davis, head of the hospital’s PR department.”

  “Why does the hospital’s PR department need to be involved?” Addison asked

  Debbie smiled at her kindly. “We’ll explain all that in a minute. But first, I know you guys have been waiting for the results of Jaxon’s bone marrow biopsy.”

  We nodded nervously, and I grabbed Addison’s hand.

  “Dr. Bates can give us more information on what they found,” Debbie said, once again gesturing toward the doctor and then sitting back in her chair as he took over the conversation.

  Dr. Bates appeared to be in his mid-forties or so. His dark hair was thinning on top, and he looked tired. He spoke as he glanced down at a medical file in front of him. “Mr. and Mrs. Hart, when Jaxon’s white blood count was done, it was extremely high, which, of course, indicated an infection of some sort. It was just a matter of figuring out what, exactly, it was.”

  I could feel myself holding my breath as he spoke.

  “The part of the puzzle we looked for is a certain type of white blood cell called neutrophils. His neutrophil count was about three hundred, which is well below where it should be. That led us to the bone marrow biopsy to determine what kind of infection is causing all of his symptoms.” He looked away from his file and took his glasses off, looking at us directly. “In short, Jaxon has what’s known as Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. It’s essentially a cancer of the blood. In fact, it’s one of the most common forms of cancer in children. But it is still cancer.”

  At that point, my head fell forward and just hung there in defeat. I felt Adam squeeze my shoulder and heard Addison’s soft cries next to me. I wanted to reach over and hug her, comfort her. But I was frozen to my chair, thoughts swirling around in my brain.

  My son has cancer.

  My son has cancer.

  My son has cancer.

  I felt like I was in a dream. Surely none of this was real. Surely I was going to wake up any minute and it would have been one big nightmare.

  At that moment, I had to move. I jumped up from my chair and just started pacing and taking deep breaths, trying desperately to hold myself together. Every once in a while, I’d turn around and look at the doctor, ready to ask a question. Then I’d lose my train of thought and start pacing and breathing again.

  I was vaguely aware of Addison being quietly comforted by Judy, but I was so wrapped up in such intense emotions that I couldn’t seem to do anything about it.

  The room remained quiet as Addison and I processed what we had just been told. After a few minutes, I finally felt like I could ask the one question I wasn’t really sure I wanted the answer to. “Okay, doc,” I said, hands on my hips, feeling like I could hyperventilate at any moment. “Give it to us straight. What are his chances?”

  I felt myself holding my breath as I waited for what could possibly be even worse news.

  “The cure rate for this particular leukemia is over ninety percent,” he answered. “Of course, we’re going to need to be aggressive in our treatments. But I’d say, of all the cancers he could have gotten, Jaxon has the most curable one.”

  Ninety percent, I kept thinking. Ninety percent cure rate. That means only ten percent don’t make it. No, don’t think about that. Focus on the ninety percent. We’ll get Jax some chemo. We’ll kick this cancer to the curb.

  Holy shit, my son has cancer.

  My thoughts were all over the place. The statistics should have made me feel better, but statistics are hard to think about when your kid has a life-threatening illness. Statistics are just numbers that some scientist or mathematician looks at after your child’s outcome is final. Statistics aren’t your child’s face and your child’s laugh and your child’s hugs. Statistics are supposed to give you hope. And as much as I wanted to hold on to that, I was still trying to wrap my brain around the diagnosis.