Читать книгу Hot Single Docs Collection - Lynne Marshall - Страница 105
ОглавлениеAT THREE-THIRTY on Wednesday afternoon, washed up and gowned, Scarlet opened Joey’s incubator. The baby refused to suck so Dr. Donaldson had placed a naso-gastric tube for feeding. “Hey there, you sweet little girl,” she said softly so as not to startle her. Joey blinked her eyes and stretched in response to Scarlet’s voice.
Good.
Scarlet pressed her index finger against the baby’s tiny palm so she could grab onto it. “I promised your mommy I’d take good care of you.” A promise she intended to keep. She repositioned her many tubes and carefully wrapped her in a baby blanket. “We need to get you drinking from a bottle so you can grow up big and strong.” She lifted her and slowly moved to the rocker two steps away, careful not to pull on the many lines connected to her.
Once situated, she began to rock. Joey made a contented little moan and cuddled into her. “Don’t get too comfortable,” she warned and picked up the little bottle beside her. “We’ve got some work to do.”
Since taking on a management role, Scarlet missed providing direct care to the NICU’s tiny patients. “Open up.” She rubbed the special nipple along Joey’s bottom lip and squeezed out a drop of formula.
So far the NICU social worker hadn’t been able to come up with any information on Holly. Police were reviewing missing persons reports and Holly’s post mortem picture had been faxed to OB/GYN offices, prenatal clinics and schools within a thirty mile radius of the hospital. Scarlet couldn’t help wondering why Holly didn’t want her family to know about the baby. For fear of their reaction to her pregnancy? Shame? Scarlet could relate. But what if there was more? What if her home environment wasn’t safe for her baby? If her parents were unfit to raise a child, like Scarlet’s had been? Or if someone abusive would have access to the baby?
And what if Holly was never identified and her family never found? What then? Joey would wind up in an over-burdened, flawed child welfare system. Helpless and vulnerable.
Promise me she’ll be okay. Promise me you’ll find her a good home. A dead mother’s final plea to Scarlet, who had absolutely no control over Joey’s placement.
Unless she sought to adopt her.
An absurd notion, considering Scarlet didn’t spend enough time at home to keep a pet alive. How could she work the hours she did and effectively care for an infant? The question that’d been weighing on her mind for months as her biological clock beat out the second by second withering of her reproductive organs.
Baby Joey fell asleep in her arms and Scarlet savored a few minutes of peace in the darkened quiet room, loving the feel of Joey in her arms. Like she did every time she held a NICU patient, she tried to convince herself. But no, it was different with Joey, maybe because Joey’s mom had entrusted her daughter to Scarlet. Maybe because Holly reminded her so much of herself, and Joey, now all alone in the world, had wound up like Scarlet’s baby when she’d been purposely chemically incapacitated.
Regardless, Scarlet had a vested interest in Joey and would do whatever she could to assure the child a bright, happy and safe future.
Grandma Sadie, one of their volunteer cuddlers, came in to Joey’s room and whispered, “Linda told me to come relieve you.”
Grandma Sadie had been in Scarlet’s first volunteer cuddler orientation class, back when she’d implemented the program four years ago. Research showed preemies benefited from human touch and interaction. And cuddlers filled the gap when exhausted parents needed a break, or when babies, like Joey, had no family to love them.
She glanced at her watch. “Perfect timing.” Since she had to get over to the family lounge before Lewis arrived.
* * *
Scarlet busied herself by re-shelving books and putting away toys. Then she spoke with a few moms sitting at a table in the back of the room, enjoying a rest and some coffee while Jessie held ‘story time’ to occupy their five little girls who ranged in age from two to five. They sat in a circle on the floor, each taking a turn in Jessie’s lap while she read their selection.
When Lewis entered the room, Scarlet motioned for him to be quiet and come to stand beside her.
So engrossed in her task, Jessie didn’t notice his arrival as she made an exaggerated honking noise that sent the little girls into a pile of gigglers.
Lewis watched his daughter, his face a mix of awe and disbelief.
“Jessie holds ‘story time’ around four o’clock every afternoon,” she whispered. “The moms meet up for a few precious minutes of adult conversation, while your daughter gives each of their children some special attention.” Scarlet looked up at him. “She’s really something special.”
Jessie finished one book and, with a big smile on her face, accepted a kiss on the cheek from the girl in her lap. Then the circle shifted, the next little girl climbed in her lap and she began to read again.
“I can’t believe it,” Lewis whispered, his eyes locked on Jessie. “She’s actually smiling.”
“She has a beautiful smile,” Scarlet pointed out.
Lewis turned to her. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen it.”
“Dad,” Jessie walked up beside them. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Lewis said. “I came up to check on the baby born in the ER yesterday, and the secretary at the desk told me I’d find Scarlet in here.”
Good man, very convincing.
Jessie stood defiant, ready to do battle. “If you’re going to yell at me please do it outside. I don’t want to upset the girls.” Who sat watching Jessie, still in a circle, awaiting her return.
Lewis went rigid. “Why do you think I’m going to yell?”
“Because you always yell.”
Lewis looked close to lashing out so Scarlet touched his arm to stop him. “Always is one of those words you need to use carefully,” Scarlet cautioned Jessie. “It’s rare someone always does something.”
“You don’t know my dad,” Jessie replied with an eye roll, and Scarlet couldn’t keep from smiling.
“If I was going to say anything,” Lewis said. “It’d be how nice it was to see you smiling for a change, and how proud I am to know you’re spending your time helping out here.”
Jessie looked stunned.
One of the moms came over. “Is this your dad?” she asked Jessie who nodded hesitantly as if embarrassed.
The woman put her arm around Jessie’s shoulders. “You have a gem of a daughter.” She looked in the direction of Lewis’s name badge and added, “Dr. Jackson. You’ve done a wonderful job with her.”
Lewis answered, “Thank you.” Then he turned to look at Jessie. “I wish I could take the credit, but it was all her mother.”
Jessie ran from the room.
Lewis and Scarlet caught up with her by the elevators and she turned on her father. “Why are you being so nice?” Jessie asked her voice full of accusation. “You hated my mom, and you hate me.”
A couple exited the elevator, avoiding eye contact as they passed by.
“Honey, I have never hated your mother, and I don’t hate you,” Lewis said, impressing Scarlet with his calm. “I let my anger and disappointment at having to pick you up at the police station get the better of me yesterday, and I am deeply sorry for what I said.”
Jessie stood there, her arms crossed tightly over her mid-section, looking down at the ground.
“Now that I know where you’re spending your afternoons, I can stop worrying,” Lewis said quietly.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Jessie offered, still not looking up.
It was a start. But with the Memorial Day weekend of doom fast approaching, was it enough to get Lewis and Jessie talking about what they needed to talk about? Probably not. Which meant Scarlet had to figure out a way to intercede without Jessie finding out.
Later that night, after spending more time thinking about Lewis and his daughter than sleeping, Scarlet settled on what she’d do. Of course it’d taken until well after midnight to finally make up her mind—the reason she sat in the far corner of the mostly deserted hospital cafeteria hours before her lunch break, waiting for Lewis.
He walked in and went directly to the coffee dispensers, giving Scarlet time to play voyeur, watching from afar, admiring his long legs, short hair, and good looks. The man made basic green scrubs look like upscale attire. Clean and neatly pressed. And dare she add, pleasingly filled out.
No wonder she’d heard his name bandied about by so many of her single co-workers.
She skimmed up his legs, to his narrow waist and wide chest, to his smiling face, to his eyes staring straight at her.
Busted.
She smiled back and waved.
He paid the cashier and headed toward her. “You like what you see?” he asked with the cocky smile of a man who knew he looked good, pulling out the chair across from her at the small, two-person table along the wall.
“Actually,” she took a sip of coffee, playing it cool. “Just pondering the age old question of boxers or briefs.”
He leaned in close.
She added straight white teeth, clean shaven, and a hint of expensive cologne to his growing list of unsettlingly pleasing attributes.
“Use your imagination,” he whispered.
Oh he did not want her to go there. Too late. She closed her eyes and pretended to imagine his naked form with various undergarments. Okay. So she didn’t totally pretend. When she opened her eyes to find him studying her, she flashed her sweetest smile and said, “Commando it is.”
He laughed out loud.
“Suffice it to say, I no longer owe you a slap across the face.” She blew out a breath and fanned herself. “We are now even.” Come to find out he had a beautiful smile, so much like Jessie’s.
“You make me forget I’m the father of an impressionable teenage girl.”
“You know being a parent does not sentence you to a life of celibacy. Why don’t you pull up your date book and call one of your five star babes to take the edge off. It’ll calm you down. I’m happy to take Jess to dinner and a movie.” She smiled back. “Your treat, of course.”
He rested his elbows on the table and leaned in close. “Why is it we never met before Jessie came into my life?”
Oh that was easy. “Probably because I don’t dress to attract male attention, my boobs don’t enter a room before I do, and I’ve never gone to O’Malley’s after work intent on finding a sexy doctor to go home with.” And she had a brain and self-respect and stayed away from men who didn’t put any effort into getting to know a woman before making a play to get her into bed.
His smile grew even bigger. “You think I’m sexy?”
And full of himself. “Based on your reputation, I think it’s safe to say certain women find you sexy. Or else they simply put up with you in a desperate attempt to snag themselves a doctor husband.” She shrugged. “It’s a discussion for another day.” She looked at her watch. “Unless you’d like to continue rather than talk about Jessie, who is the reason I asked you to meet me here. Your choice. I’ve got rounds with the neonatologist in fifteen minutes.”
That knocked the cocky grin from his lips.
Good.
“What can you tell me about Jessie’s mom?” she asked, hoping to get him to figure out Jessie’s issues on his own, so she could avoid having to come right out and tell him.
He took a sip of coffee before answering. “There’s not much to tell. She was a barista at a coffee shop around the corner from my medical school. We dated a few times, and by dated,” he looked at her pointedly without apology or regret, “I really mean got together for sex. When she put pressure on me to spend more time with her, we fought. She became a distraction so I broke it off,” he said matter-of-factly. “I needed to focus on my studies. So I found another coffee shop and she, according to a ranting message left on my answering machine, found a man who appreciated her—likely one more easily manipulated by her histrionics. After that I never saw, spoke with, or to be honest, thought about her again until I received a call from her attorney nine months ago informing me she’d died and I had a twelve-year-old daughter.”
The news of his situation had spread through the hospital like pink eye in a room full of toddlers. “That must have come as quite a shock.”
“You have no idea.”
At age sixteen she’d found out she was pregnant and had no recollection of having sex. At seventeen she’d given birth only to wake up to find her baby gone. She had some idea.
“Well this entire Lake George vacation mess could have been avoided if you’d taken the time to get to know Jessie’s mother before you slept with her.”
“Trust me,” he said. “If I’d have taken the time to get to know her, I would not have slept with her.”
For some reason that struck her as funny.
“Enjoying this are you?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Okay. Maybe a little. But moving on.” Since plan A didn’t work, time to move on to plan B. “Let’s play doctor.”
He looked around then leaned in and whispered. “To do the game justice we’ll need some privacy.”
“You are unbelievable,” Scarlet reprimanded him. “I am trying to clue you in to Jessie’s fears about Lake George. But maybe it’s not as important to you as I’d thought. And since there are plenty of more important things I could be doing.” She pushed back her chair.
“Wait.” He grabbed her hand to stop her from standing. “I’m sorry,” he said, sounding sincere. “I can’t help it. There’s something about you.” He studied her as if trying to figure out what. “I’ll behave. I promise.” He held up his right hand, as if that made his words more believable.
“Okay, then.” Scarlet slid her chair back under the table. “You’re the doctor. I’m going to tell you a hypothetical situation and you’re going to tell me what you think.”
“Hypothetical,” he clarified with a tilt of his head and one raised eyebrow.
“Yes.” She nodded. “Purely hypothetical.”
“Got it.”
“A woman has a near-death drowning experience as a little girl and grows up with a crippling fear of the water. She has a daughter. The daughter grows up under the mother’s watchful eye, never allowed in the ocean, a lake or a swimming pool, and therefore never given the opportunity to learn how to swim. Do you think it’s reasonable to assume the daughter may also develop a fear of water?”
He smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. “And all this time I’ve been playing up how much fun she’d have at the lake, jumping off the dock in the backyard,” he said. “Boating. Tubing. Riding wave runners. I’ve no doubt traumatized her. Why didn’t she tell me?” He looked at Scarlet for the answer.
“It’s been seventeen years since I’ve spent any time in a thirteen-year-old’s mixed up mind, but maybe she’s embarrassed. Or she doesn’t want you to blame her mom. Or she somehow thinks you’ll belittle her fear or force her to deal with it. I honestly don’t know.”
Lewis sat there, staring at the table.
“What are you going to do now that you’ve taken the time to really put some thought into why Jessie doesn’t want to go to Lake George and you’ve come up with the possibility she may be scared of the water,” Scarlet asked. “And might I say good job of coming up with it totally on your own and without the help of anyone else.”
Determined eyes met hers. “When we get home tonight I’m going to sit Jessie down and we’re going to discuss her exact reasons for not wanting to go to Lake George. And if she doesn’t bring up a fear of water or an inability to swim, I will find a way to work it into the conversation.”
Finally. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”
The words weren’t fully out of her mouth when someone came to stand beside their table. Scarlet looked up to see Linda from the NICU, looking down at where Lewis still held her hand in his.
“Well what have we here?” Linda asked with a gleam in her gossip-mongering, match-making eyes.
Not good.
* * *
“Must I spend my Saturday afternoon in this touristy hell that is Times Square?” Scarlet complained as they maneuvered along the crowded sidewalk. Lewis kept an eye on Jessie who stopped to look at scarves laid out on a street vendor’s table.
“Stop being a cynical New Yorker,” he chided delighted to be away from the hospital and his condo, to be outside on a beautiful sun-shiny spring day on his first fun New York City excursion with his daughter. And having Scarlet along upped the enjoyment factor significantly.
“Technically I’m a Jersey girl.”
Maybe so, but she looked the part of a chic New York City woman in her wedge-heeled open toed sandals, which displayed some perfectly manicured bright red toe nails, a pair of trendy knee-length cargo shorts that sat low on her hips, and a clingy red tank that accentuated her flat abdomen and small—although not too small—breasts. An over-sized red leather bag slung over her shoulder, a sleek ponytail fastened with a fancy silver clip, and silver hoop earrings finished off her very fashionable, very appealing look.
“Remind me again why I’m here?” she asked.
Jessie didn’t buy a scarf, but she did purchase a pretzel. He watched her count her change like he’d told her and put the money into her front pocket. “Because you told Jessie she could call you anytime for any reason.”
Scarlet snapped her fingers. “Right. And she wanted me to take her shopping for a bathing suit and some new vacation clothes.”
After his conversation with Scarlet, Lewis had carefully, patiently and tactfully worked to pry the truth out of Jessie. And once she’d opened up to him, months of accumulated fears, concerns and tears had come pouring out. They’d talked for hours, and before bed Jessie had actually said, “Thanks, dad.” His first amiable ‘dad’ followed by his very first hug and kiss good night from his daughter. A moment he would never forget. And though he’d never admit it to anyone, he’d teared up after she’d left the room, overwhelmed with relief. And hope.
“Yet somehow we wound up in Times Square. If I’m the one taking her to lunch and shopping,” Scarlet peered up at him from the corners of her eyes, “Why are you here again?”
“Because I’m financing this little clothes shopping expedition, so I get the right of final approval.”
Scarlet’s smile did something tingly to his insides. “Oh you think so?” she asked.
He was the father. He knew so.
In an attempt to avoid a very persistent man trying to hand her a leaflet of some sort, Scarlet bumped into him and tripped. Lewis caught her around her narrow waste. “We’re not interested,” he said firmly and the man retreated.
“Why’s that guy out in public in his underwear?” Jessie went up on her tiptoes and strained her neck to see around a group that’d gathered on the sidewalk. “And a cowboy hat and boots? And why are people taking their picture with him?”
“Let’s keep walking,” Lewis said, steering Jessie and Scarlet away.
“He does it to attract attention to himself so he can make some money by charging people who want to take a picture with him,” Scarlet explained. “Tourists spend money on the craziest things.”
Lewis watched the huge jumbotron on the side of a building to find the spot where the cameras were aimed. “Hold on.” He turned Jessie. “Look up.”
She did. “Hey.” She waved both arms over her head and jumped up and down. “That’s me.”
“And me,” Scarlet said with a big smile as she jumped and waved, too.
Lewis bent to talk into Scarlet’s ear, noticing she smelled as good as she looked. “How touristy of you.”
She stuck out her tongue at him then looped her arm through Jessie’s. “Come on. This store has some great clothes.”
As much as Lewis hated Jessie’s baggie black garb—that’d turned to be hand-me-downs from a neighbor since her mom had been too sick to work and couldn’t afford new clothes—Lewis was not at all a fan of Jessie’s revealing, burgeoning-figure-hugging choices. “No,” he said again and Jessie stormed back to the dressing room. Unfortunately it seemed last night’s parental epiphany did not mean smooth sailing from then on.
“You know you’re going to have to give a little,” Scarlet said, remaining by his side instead of following Jessie.
“That shirt was too tight.” He swallowed. “Do you think she needs a...” God he hated this. Daughters should not have breasts for boys who will soon be men to look at. Suddenly baggie black attire didn’t seem all that bad.
Scarlet smiled, enjoying his angst a little too much. “Bra?” she asked. “Do I think your daughter needs a bra?” she teased.
“Ssshhh,” he said. “Keep your voice down.”
She didn’t. “Tell you what I’m gonna do,” she said like some cheesy salesman trying to sweeten the deal. “If you let Jessie get three outfits and two bathing suits of her choice, I will accompany her to Macy’s.” She cupped her hands at the sides of her mouth and whispered, “For some bras.”
“No V-neck shirts and no bikinis,” Lewis clarified.
“If you get stipulations then so do I. I’m thinking I’ll suggest she get padded bras to double her bust size.”
Witch. “Okay. She can pick from the last batch of stuff she tried on.” Which thankfully didn’t contain any of the hideously trampy items of clothing Jessie had tried to convince him to consider at the onset of this shopping nightmare.
“Deal.” She held out her hand.
He shook it.
“You’ll get through this,” she said. “Tight shirts and bras are nothing.” She waved a flippant hand. “Just wait until she gets her period.”
Lewis thought he might throw up right there by the girls denim shorts rack. As a pediatrician he didn’t hesitate to discuss breast development, menstruation, and birth control with his patients and/or their nervous parents. But the role of father caring for a developing teenage daughter had taken him into new territory. Had Jessie already gotten her period? Doubtful since he didn’t have any feminine supplies in the house and she hadn’t asked him to buy any. Had anyone had ‘the talk’ with her? Did she know what to expect? And what about safe sex? And sexually transmitted diseases?
He now had a vividly clear understanding of parental apprehension and avoidance when discussing reproductive matters with their children.
Pain typical of an ulcer started to burn through the lining in his stomach.
His doctor self knew what had to be done.
His father self would rather preach the pros of maintaining virginity until marriage.
“He looks pale,” Jessie said, standing in front of him with her arms full of clothes.
“Men often do when shopping for clothes with women.” Scarlet looked up at him with deceptively innocent eyes and smiled. “You feeling okay, papa bear?”
“You are a mean woman,” he said so only she’d hear.
“Nah,” she said. “If you’re nice to me, maybe I’ll handle ‘the talk’” she made air quotations around ‘the talk’, “for you.”
A total father copout, but thank you! “Lunch is on me,” Lewis said, his vigor returning. “Then we’ll go to Macy’s to buy Scarlet a nice little gift for accompanying us today,” he said to Jessie.
They found a little Italian bistro on 46th Street whose posted menu appealed to them all and squeezed into the last available corner booth, Jessie and all her bags on one side, Scarlet and Lewis on the other. When the waiter came to take their drink order Lewis asked Scarlet, “Would you like to share a bottle of wine?” Maybe bra shopping wouldn’t be so bad with a nice relaxing buzz.
“No thank you,” she said to him. Then she turned to the waiter. “Just water for me, please.”
After ordering a soda Jessie said, “Scarlet doesn’t drink alcohol, Dad.”
“But don’t let me stop you from having,” Scarlet added quickly.
Lewis decided on an iced tea.
“You don’t have to tell him why,” Jessie said very serious. “What we say between us stays between us.”
“It’s not something I share with everyone I meet,” Scarlet said. “But it’s not a secret, either.”
Jessie jumped at the chance to share the reason. “When Scarlet was sixteen she went to a party where the kids were drinking alcohol,” Jessie said in horror. “She drank too and got so drunk she passed out.”
“I hope you have a good reason for discussing your drunken teenage exploits with my daughter,” Lewis said.
Scarlet turned to face him, her eyes met his. “Obviously alcohol impaired my ability to make good decisions because a few weeks later I found out I was pregnant.”
She watched him, so Lewis was careful to maintain a neutral expression. He knew he should say something, but what? I’m sorry? How horrible? What happened to the baby?
“That’s why kids shouldn’t drink alcohol,” Jessie said, taking the pressure off of him by filling the silence. “Because it makes them do stupid things they don’t remember doing. I’m never drinking alcohol even after I turn twenty-one.” She took her soda from the waiter and pulled the paper tip off of the straw.
“Good girl,” he said, knowing a thirteen-year-old’s declaration of long-term sobriety could be recanted without his knowledge at any time as she moved toward adulthood.
Jessie took a sip of soda then said, “Scarlet’s baby is the reason the two of us met.”
Very interesting.
Scarlet stared at her water glass, sliding her fingers through the droplets of condensation on the outside. If he wasn’t mistaken, a hint of a blush stained her cheeks.
“Jessie, I don’t think Scarlet is comfortable with you telling me all this.” Even though he wanted to hear more.
“No,” Scarlet looked at Jessie. “It’s okay. Go on.” She glanced at him. “Might as well get it all out.” She turned back to Jessie. “It’s not good to keep things from your dad.”
Later, he’d thank her for that.
“The nurses told Scarlet her baby had died.”
Scarlet jumped in to add, “Which is why I decided when I grew up I’d become a nurse who specializes in caring for premature infants.”
And from what Lewis had heard and witnessed first-hand, she did a phenomenal job of it.
“But since her father was totally evil and wouldn’t let her see her baby and refused to tell her where he’d had the baby buried, she started to wonder what if the baby had really survived?”
If the topic of conversation had been fiction rather than fact, Lewis would have smiled at Jessie’s story-telling, wide-eyed and full of intrigue.
“I know it sounds ridiculous.” Scarlet picked up the story. “But what if my dad had my baby transferred to another hospital and arranged for her to be adopted? Which, if you knew my dad, you’d know was something he was fully capable of pulling off, considering he also managed to make all documentation from my hospital stay, including any record of the birth, death, or transfer of my daughter, mysteriously disappear. And he did it without any remorse at all to save himself the embarrassment of having an unwed teenage mother for a daughter.” Anger seeped into her voice and Lewis felt her stiffen beside him.
How horrible to have endured so much trauma at such a young age. He moved his knee to touch hers in a show of support that seemed to relax her.
“Anyway,” Scarlet went on. “If my daughter is in fact alive, she’d be about Jessie’s age. And when we met I told Jessie I’d hope if someone saw my daughter looking as sad and lonely as she did, they’d take the time to talk to her, and try to cheer her up, and see if there was anything they could do to help her.”
“Which is what Scarlet did for me,” Jessie said.
“And I am so glad she did,” Lewis said, turning to Scarlet. “I’m sorry about your daughter, but words cannot express how thankful I am for the kindness you’ve shown to mine.” Scarlet Miller had a true compassionate soul beneath her tough, joking exterior.
“No biggie.” She shrugged off his heartfelt thanks, seeming uncomfortable with the attention. “What do you think happened to our waiter?” She looked down at her menu. “I’m starving.”
He allowed the change of topic, but someday soon, when Jessie wasn’t around, they’d talk more about his appreciation for all she’d done for Jessie and for him. And he kind of looked forward to getting her alone. Scarlet Miller was fast becoming a woman he wanted to get to know much better.
In Macy’s Scarlet said, “If you’ll excuse me and Jessie, I have some shopping to do up in the lingerie department.” She shooed him away. “Go shop for man things. We’ll meet you by women’s shoes in half an hour.”
If there were any way he could have done it without Jessie seeing, and without getting slapped, he would have kissed Scarlet right then and there.
Forty-five minutes later they appeared, Scarlet carrying a Macy’s bag, Jessie empty-handed.
“Did you find what you needed?” he asked. Please say yes.
“Yup,” she held up a bag he hoped contained Jessie’s new undergarments.
“This is for you.” He handed her the biggest box of chocolates he could find in the store. “Thank you for coming with us today.”
“Wow.” Scarlet took the box. “The fat cells in my thighs are vibrating with excitement in anticipation of room to expand.”
“I heard how much you and your staff like chocolate,” he said, referring to the box they’d devoured before it could be redirected to his new clerk.
“That we do.” She smiled. He liked making her smile, liked the way her smiles made him feel. “Thank you, from all of us. But in the future, you don’t need to buy me things to spend time with you and Jess. I had fun today.”
“Me, too.” Jessie hugged Scarlet.
Lewis did, too. In fact today had been the most fun he’d had in months. Even with talk of periods and bras.
When they exited Macy’s Lewis asked Scarlet, “Where are you headed from here? You want to share a cab?”
“Nah.” She held up her Metro card. “I’m going to hop a bus to the hospital. I want to stop by to visit Joey before I head home.”
“Is there a problem?”
She shook her head. “No.”
As Lewis watched Scarlet’s appealing form walk away, he realized he was sorry to see her go. And as he raised his hand to hail a cab his mind went to work on creating a reason to see her again soon.
