Reggie looked serious. “They train us not to throw up at EMT school.”
“Oh.”
His lips twitched. “I’m kidding. But you learn to deal with a lot of gross stuff because the important part is helping people.”
“Did the boy cry when his bone was out?”
“He did. And it really, really hurt. When your bone is broken and sticking out of your body so you can see it, that’s called an open or compound fracture. And it’s a bad break to get because you’re at risk for your bone getting infected.”
She frowned. “Infected?”
“Your bone gets sick. The doctors call it osteomyelitis. You don’t want that.”
Emily shook her head. “No. I don’t want that.”
“But something we all get that’s not that serious are bruises. We medical types call them contusions.”
“Contusions.” She held up her knee, showcasing a lovely blue-and-purple bruise. “I have contusions.”
“Yep. A nice one right there.” He knelt by her and winked. “If you use ‘contusion’ instead of ‘bruise,’ you’ll sound smart to all your friends.”
“I’m going to use it with Sherry. Mommy, can I call Sherry?”
“How about after pizza?” Distracting Emily wasn’t too difficult at this age.
“Yay, pizza!”
“Thank Reggie. He brought it.”
“Thank you, Reggie.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Now go wash your hands. Both of you,” she added.
He raised a brow. “Yes, ma’am.”
Emily took him by the hand, dragging him down the hall toward the bathroom. “In here,” Maggie heard her say. “Don’t mess with Mommy. She can be mean if you don’t wash your hands.”
“Right.”
“And if you just pretend to eat your veggies but then flush them down the toilet, she’ll find out. That’s not good either.” She paused. “Probably hiding them in the trash is better. We had to use the plunger on some broccoli.”
“Um, okay.”
Maggie did her best not to laugh. She fixed everyone a plate of pizza with a side of the salad. Root beer to drink. Just one for Emily, or she’d be bouncing off the walls. She set the cupcakes and protein bars aside.
The pair returned to the dining room, and Emily’s eyes widened on the goodies, particularly, the pink-frosted ones.
Her gaze lit on the cupcakes and refused to leave. “This is the best dinner ever.”
“What? No root beer floats?” Reggie said, looking for the ice cream.
“Yes.” Emily danced in place.
Reggie grinned.
“No,” Maggie said. “Not unless you eat all your salad. I don’t mind if you don’t finish the pizza though.” Which she knew her daughter would. “But the veggies are a must.”
