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groaned while Grace laughed sweetly.
    “I think you’re supposed to call him Dr. Manning,” he said.
    His father scowled. “I’ve known that boy since he was in diapers. He’ll always be Evan to me.”
    Aiden glanced at his watch. God, he hoped Evan would be out here soon for their appointment. It was one thing to have to spend day in and day out with his father, but to see the man make a fool of himself was another. Thankfully, Evan appeared in the doorway a few minutes later. Evan was giving Aiden’s father a look that suggested he wasn’t surprised.
    “Aiden, nice to see you,” Evan said.
    Aiden smiled and walked over to him. “You, too, man.” Evan looked the same—older, sure, but he was the same kid Aiden remembered. Evan had been a few years younger than he and Jake and had always been the one with his head in a book, steering clear of their crowd. He was yet another example of someone living the perfect life. Gorgeous wife, a kid, and a successful medical practice.
    “Mr. McCann, I’m ready to see you now,” Evan said.
    “One minute, boy. Grace here is writing down the address of the art gallery carrying her work.”
    Aiden would hit him if he weren’t his father or elderly or dealing with cancer. He noticed Evan looked down and rubbed the back of his neck. No doubt he was thinking the exact same thing. His father had never shown an interest in art. The closest he’d seen him come to appreciating art was peeling off the label of an imported beer and sticking it on the fridge to remember the brand.
    “You can wait out here,” his father said to him, pointing to the row of chairs.
    He crossed his arms. “I’m coming in.”
    “Actually, Mr. McCann, I think it would be a good idea if Aiden joined us.”
    His father’s face turned red, and he looked as though he was about to crap himself, but Grace quickly rounded the corner of her desk to stand beside him.
    “Mr. McCann, it’s so nice that Aiden is here, helping you out. Why don’t you let him join you? Sometimes it’s good to have someone else to listen and interpret what the doctor is saying.” Grace was a genius. She placed her hand on his father’s arm, and all the tension visibly left his body, like a deflating balloon. Aiden stood there, incredulous, as his father listened obediently and became some kind of docile puppy.
    Grace handed him the paper, and then they finally made their way into one of the patient exam rooms. Evan gestured to the two seats beside his small desk.
    Aiden crossed his legs nervously. He hoped to God there wasn’t something else wrong with his dad and that was why Evan wanted him here.
    “I was just reviewing your A1C numbers, Mr. McCann, and I’m very concerned.”
    Aiden straightened up in his chair, worried at the serious expression on Evan’s face. “What’s an A1C?”
    “They are blood test results giving the average blood sugar readings for the last three months. I told your dad last year, he needs to be careful with his diet, or he’ll have to go on insulin for Type II diabetes.”
    Aiden ran his hands down his face as his father made all sorts of noises of discontent.
    “I don’t see what the big deal is.”
    Evan gave him a look. It was obvious they’d had this conversation many times.
    “How high are his numbers?”
    Evan gestured to his computer screen. Aiden looked at it as Evan scrolled through a year’s worth of test numbers. “Too high, even with the medication I’ve put him on.”
    “I didn’t know you were on medication for diabetes,” he said, turning to his father.
    He shrugged, looking like a petulant child.
    “He’s been on medication for the last two years—the maximum dosage before moving to insulin.”
    He scrambled, trying to think of relevant questions to ask, even though he knew very little about diabetes. “Is there a chance of not having to go on insulin?”
    Evan nodded. “It will require strict diet and regular exercise.” He reached into a filing cabinet and