I lift a brow. Appraise her with new found respect. I was sure we’d have to walk. Drag my boot across fifteen humid city blocks then face Dr. Dick lookin’ like a swampy beast.
“She gave up her parking spot?”
I’m legit in shock. Meredith’s Audi has not left her coveted spot off of Passyunk since before the pandemic. She must really love the kid. Not that I can blame her. There’s just something about Sydney. She went to war against herself and her body and she came out on the other side with this warrior’s spirit that makes everyone stronger around her. I pat her on the back.
“Well done, Young Padawan,” I tell her.
“What the fuck’s a Panda Wand?” She wrinkles her nose in disgust.
Ugh. Generation Z.
“Language! Come on, Syd.” I ruffle her hair and she smacks at my hand. I point to the Starbucks on the corner and say, “I’ll buy you a pink drink and explain the inner workings of the Star Wars universe.”
“Oh gawd. Please don’t,” she mutters as we head toward the crosswalk.
Ignore her, I do.
Chapter Ten
Jeff
Lesson 11: Whatever happens on tequila isn’t real-a.
“I brought some burritos just in case you guys were–”
I pause at the top of Meredith’s staircase and look around like I’m in the wrong apartment. Painted floors. Check. Navy bookcases. Check. And the phallic watercolor over my right shoulder certifies that I’m in Meredith’s bachelorette dungeon.
Devon leans back against the leather couch cushion and crosses her arms over her chest.
“You brought us burritos? Isn’t that nice! Devon? Isn’t Jeff so nice for bringing us burritos?” Meredith asks from the kitchen. I hadn’t noticed her there.
Devon doesn’t answer.
“Actually, I only brought two?—"
“Perfect because it’s just me and Devon. Kev got called in for a gunshot wound and Syd just got picked up!”
Meredith’s voice is way too chipper for discussing a gunshot wound, but I force my eyes away from Devon’s face and drop the paper bag of food on the round table that we used to play cards on Thursday. I turn to find Mer grinning at me. Two weeks hanging out with her after work and lunching together at the hospital and her smile still brings my arm hair to attention. She opens the fridge with a flourish.
“Pick your poison,” she tells me.
“I’ll have whatever you two are drinking,” I say, and Mer’s smile turns to something even more devilish. I glance over my shoulder at Devon, but she’s busy pretending to study the remote.
“Dev, you cool if I share el Blanco?” Mer asks.
“Si,” Devon says and it’s the unexpected sibilance of her response that makes me realize what I’ve just walked into.
“Are you two drunk?” I ask with a chuckle.
“Lightweight is,” Mer answers, looking over my shoulder at Devon as she pours me a glass of tequila.
Devon forgets that she dislikes me for a moment and smiles.
“I am mildly buzzed,” she says. I can’t help but smile back.
“You’re in my spot,” I tell her. She looks around at the couch and then back at me with wide eyes like I’ve just stuck my finger into the tiger’s cage at feeding time. And I might be that stupid, baiting her when she’s obviously tipsy. But it’s really hard to resist.
“Let’s be clear, Doctor Dick?—”
