A red disk dropped onto Taylor’s upper lip, and Angie whisked it away.
“All done?” Taylor asked.
“Almost.” I somehow got beyond the last green one and quickly tugged it down too.
“I need to make sure there’s nothing else up there,” I said. “Sure you didn’t put any more candy up there? Buttons? Money? Barbie shoes?”
She shook her head, smiling. I loved that she was smiling. “No, silly Ani. Can we spend the whole day together on Saturday?”
“Yes, my love.” I was shaking a little with relief. I caught Adam looking at me. He wasn’t gloating or angry; he was relieved. His eyes were…twinkly. Like that Adam I’d known. And like maybe he was proud. Or maybe he was lost in remembering all that great sex we’d had until my friends showed up.
I did my checking, hung up the otoscope, and pronounced, “All done. You were amazing!”
Taylor sat up and beelined straight into Pen’s arms.
Pen sighed audibly. Then she hugged me. “Ani, thank you.” She bent down and spoke to her child. “Give Dr. Aunt Ani a hug.” And she did.
“Want a popsicle?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Can I take her to get one?” I asked Pen.
“Only if you bring me back a drink,” she said.
“Sorry, we’ve only got popsicles,” Adam said. I couldn’t tell if his mouth was curved up in the tiniest smile. Or not. But then he left.
“That was Dr. Grumpenstein,” Angie whispered.
“More likeDr.Hunkenstein,” Pen said.
More like a complete mystery to me.
Chapter Four
Ani
I carried Taylor down the hall to the break room, using her three-year-old positive energy, which she had in spades, to push away the confusion that was building inside of me. Adam Lowenstein, the man who’d been so loving and caring at a time when I was at my rock-bottomest low, was kind of a…jerk. A cranky, joy-killing pain in the eardrum.
On the way down the hall, Taylor entertained me by singing a song about germs that she’d learned in preschool. She was wearing blue tights, a blue top, and a blue tutu that bounced as she moved her arms and sang. I headed toward the refrigerator. The fridge part contained everyone’s lunches, but the top exclusively held magical boxes of popsicles.
“Red, purple, or blue?” I asked, inspecting the stash.
“Bwuu,” Taylor said.
“Great choice.” I grabbed a pack and put it on the counter to snap it in half. Then I unwrapped it, giving each of us half. “I’m getting the vibe that your favorite color is blue. Is that right?”
“Bwuu,” Taylor said as she enthusiastically took a lick.
“Remember,” I said, “M&M’s taste better when you eat them. Right?” We walked together to the nursing station. She grinned, displaying blue teeth. Cathy, the charge nurse, was sitting behind the large desk area, crocheting what looked like a baby blanket. Tom, our medical assistant, was playing a game on his phone. Ivy and BethAnn, two of the staff nurses, were flipping through a Pampered Chef catalog. Angie walked over to join the group at the same time we did.
“Hey, everyone,” I said. “Meet a very brave patient, who’s just set a record for the number of Christmas M&M’s up her nose. Whoever guesses how many gets a popsicle.”
“Oh my goodness,” BethAnn said, walking over.
Cathy guessed first. “Um, three?”
Taylor shook her head and held up five fingers.
