“Sorry,” Finn shook off the last remnants of his pre-Kennedy childhood, squatted in front of Mrs. Ingalls’ youngest—Phoebe—and smiled reassuringly.
“Hey there,” he spoke softly. “Phoebe, is it?” The girl threw him a suspicious look, still clinging desperately to her mother. “My name’s Finn, and I’m a nurse. Do you know what a nurse is?” The little girl pursed her lips, looking at her mother questioningly, who nodded back.
“Go on, honey. You can tell the nice man.” Mrs. Ingalls patted Phoebe’s right hand fondly. Tilting her head, Phoebe took him in warily, her moss-green eyes covered by a wet sheen, her auburn braids hanging loosely over her equally green coat.
“I thought nurses were ladies,” the child murmured, scrunching her pointy nose. Finn chuckled. It wasn’t the first time that people had commented on this or even mistaken him for a doctor instead.
“Well, both men and women can be nurses,” he smiled. The girl looked at her mother, who nodded affirmatively. They’d only made it a few steps inside the waiting room, so Finn pointed at the first examination room to the right. “You wanna see where I keep all my cool nurse stuff?” He nodded at the open door.
“No,” Phoebe murmured, her bottom lip quivering. Okay, tough customer, but it was hardly the first time that he’d had to pull out some extra tricks from his hat.
“Come on, honey. Mommy’s comin’ too, right Nurse Finn?”
“Of course,” he smiled broadly. “Mommy’s coming too, and she’ll be right there with you the whole time. Besides, how are you gonna dance around the Christmas tree when your foot is hurting like that?” At the mention of Christmas, Phoebe’s face lit up, and she bit contemplatively on her bottom lip.
“It won’t come out by itself?” She looked questioningly at Finn. “The… splitter?” She shifted on her feet, a flash of pain washing over her freckled face.
“Thesplinter?” Finn corrected. “Well, sometimes they do, but mostly they need a little help.” He paused, looking at Mrs. Ingalls. “And your mommy tells me you’ve had it there for a while now and that it’s starting to hurt. Is that right?”
“I guess,” the girl shrugged, looking at the floor, kicking her maroon winter boots against each other.
“I think it’s infected. Swollen, Mr. Kennedy,” Mrs. Ingalls whispered. “I tried to get it out, but…” She tipped her head apologetically at Phoebe.
“Finn, please. It’s just Finn.” Mrs. Ingalls nodded. “And it can be tricky. Especially with kids.” He patted Phoebe’s head, which made her look up at him. “You know what, Phoebe? I think I might have an idea.” He tapped his chin with his index finger, pretending to be deep in thought.
“What?” The girl’s face lit up, curiosity splayed across her face. Turning toward Henry, Finn spoke casually.
“Didn’t we get that kitten in this morning that had a splinter in its paw?” Henry stared back at him, a huge question mark on his face, then it seemed to dawn on him.
“Oh yeah,” he nodded, smiling knowingly. “Mrs. Landon’s cat. Kitten.”
“You have a kitten here?” Phoebe looked around.
“Well, it’s down in the kennel, but Dr. Jenkins was just about to go get it. To get the splinter out. Weren’t you, Henry?” The veterinarian smiled broadly, bobbing his head eagerly.
“Sure was.”
“Okay…” The girl nodded tentatively.
“We were actually waiting for you,” Henry added.
“Me?Why?” Phoebe bit her bottom lip, interest building across her face, her moss-green eyes lighting up.
“Well, you see, the kitten doesn’t really like grown-ups that much. Henry here tried to hold her, but she wouldn’t have it.” Henry nodded solemnly. “She’s real tiny, too.” Finn cupped his hands together in front of him, showing exactly how small the kitten was. It was tiny. That was no lie. It was the smallest kitten in the litter, and Mrs. Landon had brought it in last night because she was worried about it not feeding properly.
“That small?” Phoebe looked at his hands. He nodded, smiling softly. “Is it scared? Where’s the mommy cat?” she whispered, her bottom lip shaking.
“The mommy cat is at home with the other kittens. You see, that’s why we were kinda hoping that you could help us out, Phoebe.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. She’s really small and scared, but maybe if you hold her, Henry can pull out the splinter. You ever hold a kitten before?”
“I have!” Phoebe’s face broke out in an eager smile, all remnants of suspicion and worry washed away in an instant. “Our neighbor, Mr. Olsson, had kittens last summer, and I played with them together with Peter.”
“Peter?” Finn smiled.
“Yeah. My brother Peter. He’s seven.” There was a slight lisp to Phoebe’s pronunciation whenever she spoke herSs.
