“I’ll cover it.”
“But—”
“I can do it,” I repeated. “Go home.”
Teresa murmured a faint thank you and rushed off. Her thinning hair swayed behind her.
“Teresa!” I called after her. “Don’t forget to drink water!”
That was our joke.
She half turned, and for a heartbeat, the corners of her mouth curved into the smallest, tiredest smile.
By the time I started my rounds, I was aWalking Deadcosplayer. Cinnamon and apples hit my nostrils sometime during mid-morning. Mrs. Tina was on the prowl.
She appeared like a mobile bakery, hauling bags loaded with treasures.
“How’s my favorite doctor this morning?” She beamed. Her hair was a stark platinum today.To match my grandchildren’s hair.
“Mmm, do I smell sugar and love?” I kissed the sneaky old wolf on the cheek.
“You do, my dear star.” She winked. “And this just so happens to be my grandson’s favorite cake!” She jiggled the bag. “He’s coming to dinner tonight, so naturally, I made twelve. And three for you and that handsome boy, Lachlan.”
She pulled three aluminum-wrapped containers out of one of the cat-printed bags.
“Oh, you didn’t have to bother,” I said, but I was already licking my lips. I grabbed the rest of her bags, for the kids and nurses. “Enjoy your night with Lolo.”
“It’d be more fun if you came to visit! Who knows how long I’ve got left to live?”
“Mrs. Tina, you’re still running in your wolf form?—”
“My bones are telling me!” The lady lifted her hands to the sky.
“We both know you’ll outlive us all.”
“Not if my heart’s so lonely!”
“I’ll come visit. Dinner next week.” I fished out my agenda from my pocket, licking my finger before flipping through the pages. “How’s Wednesday?”
“Lolo trains on Wednesdays,” she muttered under her breath.
Caught her!
“Ah. So you don’t want to spend quality time with me.” I kept a straight face.
She stamped her foot on the floor. “I do! But Ialsowant to hear the pitter-patter of grandpup paws!”
“I don’t want pups right now so I’m probably not the right fit for your plan.”
“Fine! No pitter-patter yet! But don’t think this conversation’s over.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said, absolutely aware it wasn’t.
CHAPTER 30
YVAINE
Theft was considered a crime in our modern society; punishments varied depending on the severity of the act.
