“But we’ve been here for over twenty minutes!” Sylvia huffed.
He opened the door partway. Janine was standing there, panic on her face. “I’m with a patient,” he said, frowning. She knew better than to interrupt him when he was seeing patients.
“What about your flight to Dallas?”
“My flight?” Oh no. He was scheduled to speak at a four-day symposium, and tonight was the welcome mixer. How could he have forgotten that? Panic coursed through him. “Did I miss it?”
“You will if you don’t leave in the next thirty minutes.” She shook her head. “I don’t suppose you already have a bag packed?”
“I’ll buy stuff when I get there.” He leaned closer. “Do I have any more patients after this one?”
“No. But you were supposed to be finished two hours ago—”
“Thanks.” He shut the door and hurried to Sailor. “Your mother says you’re in pain. What’s going on?”
Sylvia moved to her daughter’s side. “She’s—”
“I’m asking Sailor, Mrs.Strickland.”
“You don’t have to be rude.” Sylvia took a step back.
He glanced at the clock. Janine was right. He had only an hour before his flight left. Fortunately, he was flying out of Hot Springs and not Little Rock, or he’d never make it. The symposium organizers had paid him a large honorarium, and they’d be furious if he was late—
“Cramps.” Sailor finally lifted her head and looked at the doctor without a speck of embarrassment. “I’ve got cramps.”
That’s what all the fuss was about? “Take some ibuprofen,” he said, grabbing the file off the counter.
“Where are you going?” Sylvia said.
“Mrs.Strickland, Sailor doesn’t need a prescription for cramps. Ibuprofen will help with the pain.” He started to open the door.
“Her pain isn’t normal.”
Kingston counted to ten before turning around. Sailor was Sylvia’s only child, and the woman had a penchant for overexaggerating her daughter’s symptoms. “Are you having a lot of pain, Sailor?” he asked.
Sailor shrugged. “I guess.” She looked back at her phone.
“Ibuprofen twice a day,” he said, already halfway out the door. “She’ll be fine, Mrs.Strickland.”
“But—”
Shutting the door, he quickstepped to Yolanda, one of the clinic’s nurses. He handed her the file. “Ibuprofen twice a day for menstrual cramps,” he said as he rushed down the hall and into his office, he searched for his laptop bag—where had he put it?—and found it underneath a stack of files on the floor near his desk. He shoved his laptop inside, raced out of the office, and was through the door and into his car without another word to anyone.
In minutes he was speeding toward the airport, making a mental list of everything he needed to buy before he went to tonight’s mixer. That done, he spent the rest of the drive berating himself. How could he have forgotten about this trip? It had been on his calendar for months.
As he pulled into the parking lot, his phone rang again, and Anita’s name popped up on the dash screen. He let it go to voice mail while he grabbed his laptop bag and sprinted toward the terminal. He reminded himself to call her later after the mixer. And Ray. He had to remember to call Ray. He liked teaching at Henderson, even though he was usually wiped out after he got home late on the nights he taught.
Inside, Kingston ran through the airport and fortunately whizzed through security before he snuck on board as the crew was closing the cabin door. He gave the frowning flight attendant a half smile and a shrug and slid into his seat next to an elderly man who was already snoring. He blew out a breath and leaned back, the sound of the flight attendant explaining the rules and features of the aircraft a low hum in his ears.
His eyes closed. The flight to Dallas was only forty-five minutes. That meant nearly an hour of no phone calls, patients, admins, or other responsibilities constantly tugging at his time. He’d have almost an hour of peace before he hit the ground running again, and he was going to savor every minute, because when the wheels touched down, his quick respite would be over.
But for now, he... was going to...
Zzzzzz.
***
“Ladies, I’m concerned about my niece.”
