“Every Time I Walked Out That Door” | An Excerpt from THE STAIRS BETWEEN US

Joey sat on the couch, legs straight out in front of him. He balanced a textbook and notebook on his lap.

“Whatcha doing, Joey kangaroo?” I asked, sitting next to him.

Brown eyes flicked my way, then returned to the book in front of him. “Reading.”

I glanced down. The anatomy of the human heart spread across the page. He’d roughly sketched the diagram in his notebook. Not bad for a little kid. “This isn’t your book from school.” Pride swelled in my chest.

“It’s your book,” he said.

“I know it is.” I tapped my fingers on my thigh, thinking.

“I’m sorry.” Joey clapped the book shut and pushed it off his lap. His eyes rounded as he silently begged me.

“I have to tell Mom,” I said after a moment. His lower lip trembled at my words. “Not because you’re in trouble,” I added. “I mean, I wish you would’ve just asked instead of taking it. Some of my books are a little . . . advanced for you.”

Hell, all of my medical books should’ve been beyond his six years. Yet there we sat, my son studying cardiac anatomy—on his own. Noah was going to freak. Whether she liked it or not, though, medicine was in his blood, from both sides of the family.

“I’m not in trouble?” he asked.

“No, buddy.” I booped his nose. “I’m really proud of you right now. Are you interested in being a doctor? Like me and your Nan?”

“Will I make Momma sad?”

Swallowing surprise, I picked up the book and notebook and set them on the coffee table. “Why would you ask that, kiddo?”

“Nan makes her sad, and so do you. If I become a doctor, I’ll make her sad, too.”

I cleared my throat. Not for the first time, my own son had me stumped. Most six-year-olds were curious. It was typical for their age. Joey, on the other hand, picked up on more than most children his age. I didn’t know how to explain to him that his grandmother hadn’t been very warm to his mom when she was little. With Noah for a mother, Joey probably couldn’t wrap his head around something like that. Besides, I didn’t want to spoil his view of his Nan.

“Momma’s not sad because Nan and I are doctors,” I said, picking my way carefully around the subject. “She’s sad because . . .” My voice trailed off as realization slammed into me.

Throughout the entire nine years of our marriage, Noah had relived her childhood. Instead of a mother who was never around, though, she’d been stuck with a husband who wasn’t. It wasn’t that she couldn’t understand why I had to go when I got paged—she knew that better than anyone else. Every time I walked out that door, though, I reminded her of all the times her mother walked out on her.

I hadn’t meant to be distant, but I took my work home with me—even when I wasn’t working on a particularly difficult case. That phone was always on, always by my side. Every time it rang, it took me away from her.

From our family.

“Daddy?” Joey’s anxious eyes searched mine.

“Your Momma misses your Nan, buddy,” I said, voice thick. “That’s all.”

“Does she miss you too?”

“I don’t know.” But I was going to find out.

Read The Stairs Between Us Now

Digital Edition
Kindle | Apple Books | Nook
Google Play | Kobo | Eden Books
More Retailers

Paperback Edition
Signed Paperbacks
Amazon | Barnes & Noble

Now available at Walmart