by Tasha Ivey
“How much is that ring?” a little boy’s voice asks.
“Honey, I don’t think you have enough money for this jewelry,” Mrs. Polly answers. “Why don’t you go look in that bin over there? There are some nice beaded bracelets under ten dollars.”
He lets out a surprised gasp, which lets my curiosity get the better of me. Peeking around the aisle, I see a boy with a curly mop of brown hair and several wadded bills fisted in his little hand. He kind of looks like…uh, what was that kid’s name…umm, Simon.
“That necklace! The one with the heart and the little diamonds on the edge. That’ll be perfect for my mom. She loves diamonds. How much is it?”
Mrs. Polly is trying to get him to understand he doesn’t have enough money, but he is a persistent little guy. “It’s really expensive, sugar. How about a rose for your mom? I can wrap it up real nice, and tie some pretty ribbons around it.”
“You don’t understand.” His shoulders fall slightly. “My mom is really sad, and flower just isn’t going to be enough. It has to be special.”
His voice cracking at the end is all I can take.
I step out from the end of the aisle and pull my credit card from my wallet, waving it at Mrs. Polly and nodding my head toward the kid. She wrinkles up her already wrinkled forehead until understanding sinks in.
I smile and nod at her. Yes, Mrs. Polly. I’m sure.
“Well, now, let’s just see how much money you have, and I might be able to cut you a deal on that necklace.” She counts out sixteen very crumpled dollar bills and taps her chin for a moment. “Since you help me out a lot, I’m going to give you my best discount. How about I sell you that necklace right there for five dollars?”
“Five?” He jumps up and down. “Yeah! Can you put it in a pretty bag, too?”
Mrs. Polly grins wide, her perfectly straight dentures wobbling slightly. “I think we have a deal.”
After she gives him his change and sends him on his way with the little pink bag stuffed with polka dotted tissue paper, the kid practically skips out of the store.
“That kid was something,” I chuckle breathlessly.
“And you just made his day. That necklace was sterling silver with real diamond chips in it, you know. It was a seventy bucks.”
I shrug. “And totally worth it. You know him?”
“Sure. So do you. I heard about how you got him down from that Ferris wheel last Friday night. You’re his hero…twice now.”
I set the two bottles of wine next to the register and go back to grab the bouquet of sunflowers. “I thought that was him. Simon. Cute kid.”
“Yeah, he’s in here a lot,” Polly says, wrapping the bottles in paper before slipping them into a bag. “I’ve never heard a kid talk so much about science. He goes on and on, telling me about protons and neutrons and the life cycle of frogs and anything else that comes to mind. He reads a lot, I suppose. His aunt actually works at the restaurant next door, and sometimes he comes to work with her. He eventually gets bored and comes over here to help me bake or sweep or whatever I can come up with for him to do.”
Perfect. So Kyler is next door as we speak. Seeing her could get a little awkward.
I swipe my credit card and sign the slip, seriously considering going into the restaurant and apologizing to her now. You know, rip the bandage off and get it over with. But then again, it’s probably best not to interrupt her at work and get her into trouble. Besides, seeing that I haven’t heard from her since then, she may be really offended. It’s a small town. I wonder how long it would take to get around that I was chewed out by a waitress for falling asleep while she was trying to seduce me. Probably not the best idea.
I thank Polly for the dozen cookies she forces me to take in appreciation of getting the necklace for Simon, and I head out to my car, my arms so full I can hardly see where I’m going.
“I know what you did.”
I spin around and peek over the sunflowers tickling my face. “Hey, buddy. I didn’t see you there.”
Simon is sitting on the wooden bench right in front of the gift shop. His legs are too short to reach the ground, so he’s casually swinging them back and forth. He’s wearing his Converse shoes again, but one is untied, causing a ticking sound every time the plastic end of the lace hits the concrete.
“You’re the guy from the festival. The doctor.”
“Yep. That’s me. Dr. Hoover.”
He brushes a stray curl out of one eye. “I know. And I heard you and Mrs. Polly talking, too. I heard you talking about how you paid for my mom’s necklace.” His big blue eyes meet mine directly. “I just wanted to say thanks.”
I open my back door and set everything in the seat, returning with my hand extended to shake Simons. “It was my pleasure, buddy. Seemed really important to you, so I wanted to help you out.”
“My mom cries a lot, so I want to make her smile like she used to. My dad fights with her all the time and doesn’t buy nice things for her anymore. So now it’s my job to take care of her and make her happy.”
Damn, now I want to hug the little guy, but that might weird him out a little. “Sometimes, we have to do that for the people we love. I’m sorry she’s sad, but I know you make her happy, just being yourself. You don’t have to buy her gifts, you know. Just be helpful and spend time with her.”
“I don’t want to return the necklace.”
I ruffle his hair and smile. “Dude. I wouldn’t let you. If we see each other again, let me know how she likes it, okay?”
His lips curl into a crooked-toothed grin. “I will.”
I start to get back into my car, but he calls out to me. “Hey, Dr. Hoover?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, buddy. Anytime. I mean it.”
“OH MY GOD. That’s probably the sweetest story I’ve ever heard!” Callie fans at her face, a futile attempt at keeping her tears at bay. “That poor little boy.”
“Come on, Dalton,” Makenna comes into the dining room carrying the pie. “Wasn’t it really a roundabout way of apologizing for what you did to his aunt? I mean, if it were me, it would’ve been a real slap in the face to be making out with a guy and him falling asleep.”
Someone remind me why I told them what happened with Kyler. “I didn’t know it was him for sure when I did it. You should’ve heard him. He sounded so defeated. I couldn’t not do it.”
Callie slides the pie across the table, greedily cutting a slice almost too big to fit on her plate. All conversation ceases, and we’re all watching her with wide eyes.
“What?” she asks innocently, licking whipped cream from her fingers.
Wes bursts into laughter which creates a domino effect around the room.
“Shut your face, Wesley Baxter. I’m feeding the baby.” She points her fork at everyone. “You’re all just mean. Well, except Dalton, he brought me pretend wine and probably made that mom’s day.” Her voice cracks, and she fans her face again.
“Thank you. For that, you can have my share of the pie. I’ve already eaten half a dozen of Mrs. Polly’s peanut butter cookies.”
A collective “mmmmm” sounds around the table, but Makenna is probably the loudest.
“Can we stop talking about pie and cookies? I have a wedding dress to fit into, and I’m starving.”
“You know, I don’t get it.” Wes shrugs. “Callie did the exact same thing. Why don’t women buy dresses that fit them instead of getting ones they have to starve themselves into?”
Makenna huffs. “My dress fits just fine!”
“It sure does. I’ve seen it.” Callie pauses to lick her spoon. “It’ll only be a problem if she wants to inhale at all that day.”
Makenna narrows her eyes at her. “Oxygen is overrated.”
“Hey, you can be your own ‘something blue.’” Sawyer quips, nudging her with his elbow. “That’s okay. You’ll have me there to give you mouth-to-mouth.”
I pretend to gag myself. “Well, Ca
llie and Wes, how about you guys? Would you like to tell me the most stomach-turning pregnancy stories, so I can be completely disgusted by both of the couples in this room?”
“Sure,” Callie agrees with a Cheshire cat grin. “Yesterday, my boob started leaking this weird yellow stuff…while Wes was…you know…sucking on it.”
“Ugh!” Sawyer and I exclaim simultaneously, backing away from the table.
“I was only kidding, Cal, seriously. TMI.”
Wes shakes his head. “These two so-called medical professionals are grossed out by one of the most beautiful parts of human nature. You think that’s gross, and I heard you two comparing trauma stories a few weeks ago.”
“Wes. Dude. You drank boob milk,” Sawyer says, still shuddering. “I wear gloves and a mask when I’m dealing with any body fluids. You purposely put it in your mouth.”
“To be fair, I didn’t know it was going to happen.”
Makenna crosses her arms, looking squarely at Sawyer.
“What?” he asks.
“Does this mean you’re going to be grossed out by everything if and when we have children? A pregnant woman’s body does some weird things, and a baby shares all sorts of fluids with you.”
“Yeah,” Callie interjects, “I was changing a cousin’s baby’s diaper one time, and he peed right in my face. Then as soon as I picked him up, he spit up all down my back.”
“How adorable.” I deadpan.
Sawyer shakes his head, reaching across the table to cover Makenna’s hand with his own. “No. If it’s my wife and my child, there’s nothing less than beautiful about it.”
“What about you, D?” Wes asks, causing everyone to turn to me. “You think you’ll ever settle down and have kids?”
I shrug. It’s not that I haven’t thought about it, but it all scares the hell out of me. “Not saying it won’t happen, but right now, my answer is probably not. Don’t get me wrong…I love other people’s kids. But I don’t have to be responsible for raising them. Children are complex little creatures. They cry a lot, and sometimes for no reason. They look to you for guidance, and I’m in no place to offer anyone any type of direction. Then there’s the worry that everything you do will screw the kid up and turn them into some sociopath with daddy issues. No thanks.”
“Geez, sounds like you might be the one with daddy issues,” Callie says with a snort.
In all honesty, that statement has a lot of truth to it. Both of my parents were generally supportive to an extent. They loved me from an arm’s length, I suppose, showing me how much they cared by buying me books and science kits. There weren’t ever any game nights at the kitchen table or picnics in the park. Instead, we did medical terminology flash cards and listened to lectures on interpreting myocardial infarctions.
Sure, I was jealous of the kids whose parents took them out for ice cream, just because, or to theme parks every summer. And I would’ve loved just one weekend that we could stay at home and watch Highlander reruns all day.
But we didn’t own a television, and my parents viewed theme parks and fun outings as frivolous wastes of time. They were more inclined to push their own agendas on me, pushing me so hard into the field of medicine that I could recite every bone in the human body by the time I was five. That’s how I graduated high school two years early and was starting my residency by the time most people my age were just graduating a four-year college.
I don’t know if it’s because it’s all I’ve ever known or if I truly love working in medicine, but I’m thankful they pushed me so hard into becoming what I am today. I wake up every day, knowing that I’m exactly where I want to be. However, it doesn’t stop me from wondering what experiences I’ve missed, who I’d be today if it wasn’t for their direction.
The whole time I was growing up, I told myself that, if I ever had kids, I’d let them make their own decisions. I’d let them make mistakes. I’d give them the greatest gift a kid could have. A real childhood. Full of fun and scraped knees and spilled milk. I told myself I’d never force them to become anything. I’d let their own individual personality shine through to forge their own path through life. I never had that.
And as I get older, I become more and more afraid of being that kind of parent. I don’t know what that’s like, so how could I ever give it. I’d end up falling back on what I know and never giving them a chance to thrive on their own.
So, no. I can’t do that to a kid.
Thankfully, Sawyer knows exactly how I feel on that subject and why, so he sends the topic in a new direction.
“Speaking of dads, Makenna’s surprised us yesterday with a wedding gift. Two plane tickets to Aruba for our honeymoon.”
Makenna holds up her finger as soon as Callie gasps. “And before you get your panties in a bunch, he knew I wouldn’t want to leave until after your baby gets here, so we don’t leave for two weeks after you’re due.”
“I’ve always loved that man. So thoughtful.” She smiles contentedly. “I can’t believe you two are about to be married. A little more than three weeks of freedom, and then you delve into the world of marital bliss. I am still kind of mad at you for moving the date up. I was looking forward to having those four months to get rid of the baby weight. Now, I’ll have the baby and the weight still in there.”
“Sorry, it’s just…with the way that William has been doing lately, I can’t wait that long. It’s important to us to have him there.”
Makenna is right. His mini strokes have become more frequent, and his body just doesn’t fight things like it used to. I do what I can for him, but there just isn’t a cure for age. “And it’s important to William, too. I know he’s excited for you two. He told me during one of our many heart-to-hearts.”
Everyone snickers, knowing all too well about our love-hate relationship. William loves to hate me, and I hate that I love him…and vice versa.
My cell phone suddenly vibrates in my pocket, and I’m wary of looking to see who’s calling, especially since we were just talking about how poorly William has been doing lately.
Not recognizing the number, I step out into the hallway to answer. “Dr. Hoover.”
“Hey, Dalton. I, uh, remembered you weren’t working tonight, so I thought I’d give you a call to see how you are.”
“Kyler. I didn’t recognize the number.” At least she doesn’t sound mad. “I’m great. Just eating dinner at a friend’s house. How’s Simon?”
“Oh, I’m calling from my sister’s house. He’s asleep finally. I-I didn’t realize you were busy, though, so I can call you another time.”
I slip out the front door, a preventative measure to keep everyone from listening in. “No, it’s fine. We’ve already eaten, and we’re just talking. I’m really glad you called.”
She huffs softly. “Well, you do have my number, you know.”
“I know, I know. And I’ve thought about calling, but I wanted to wait a few days. I figured you were mad at me.” The porch swing moans when I sit down, so I decide against actually swinging.
“Mad? Why would I be mad at you?”
“Look, I…” I pause, running my fingers through my hair. “I don’t remember what happened the other night, but I’m pretty sure I fell asleep. I’ve wanted to apologize, but because I’m not completely sure what happened, I have no idea what to apologize for.”
“You’re right about what happened, but I’m not offended or anything. Dalton, you hadn’t had any sleep. I actually laughed about it when I realized you were snoring. I even found a blanket and covered you up before I left.”
“Well, that doesn’t make me feel any better. I was snoring? That must’ve been attractive.”
Her infectious laughter floats through the speaker, making me smile. “You definitely were. I was, uh, kissing your neck, and I sat up to take my shirt off. Just as I was leaning back down, you snored. Right in my face. I was afraid that I was going to wake you up because I was laughing so hard. So I decided to go. Besides, if we ever…get there again, I�
�d like you to be fully conscious.”
“Damn,” I mutter, swiping my hand down my face. “Well, I’m still sorry. I’ll definitely have to make it up to you.”
“Just say when.”
“Let me see what my schedule looks like over the next week, and I’ll find a night to take you out on a real date. No naps involved.”
“Deal. Buuuut…I could really use a favor now.”
I swear my heart skids to a halt. “Uh, Kyler, you’re babysitting. I don’t think—”
“Oh, God! Not sex! That’s so not how I meant that to come across. I’m talking about my parents’ anniversary dinner on Saturday evening. I remember you saying that you were the on-call every other weekend, so that would make you free this weekend. But if you already have plans, that’s totally fine. I won’t be upset with you if you can’t come. And I know this looks bad because of the whole ‘meeting the parents’ thing, but it’s not my intention to make you feel like I’m taking things too far. They just always comment that I don’t have a date, and I’d like to bring one for a change. You know?”
I wait, trying to absorb everything she just said while making sure she’s not about to pick up again.
“Shit, I’m rambling again. Dalton?”
“I’m here, and I’d be honored to come. Saturday night should be safe.”
She lets out a long breath. “Thank you. Why do you make me so nervous? I hate that I always sound like an idiot when I’m talking to you.”
“It’s not my intention, I promise.” And I honestly don’t understand it myself. “But you don’t sound like an idiot.”
“Oh, please. I do, too. I think it’s just that you’re so freaking gorgeous and a successful doctor, and I’m just an average girl with a job at a barbeque joint and a mountain of student loan debt.” She takes a moment for a breath or two…thank goodness. “We may just stay friends or someday become something more, but whatever happens, I just don’t want to screw anything up. I like you.”
“And I like you. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Just breathe. Besides, you’re easily a little above average.”