Page 35 of A Really Bad Idea

“Are you sure?” Her face is laced with confusion, and right now, I think she’s mostly confused as to why this strange man is being so kind.

Christian smiles at her, calmly and assuredly, and then looks down at the little girl. “Annabelle, I’m Dr. Christian Gallagher, and I’m going to pick you up and carry you to the hospital.”

The daughter’s words are muffled. “It’s gonna hurt.”

“Only a little, but then it will feel like magic. Do you believe in magic?”

Annabelle nods as she inhales shakily. “Like Elsa in Frozen?”

He nods down at her. “Do you see that big building over there?” He nudges his shoulder toward a skyscraper that is a few blocks away from St. Xavier but in the general direction. “I happen to be friends with Elsa, and she has all of her ice magic up in that tower with her. I’m going to walk you over there, where her magical doctors will make you feel better. But we can’t do that without me carrying you.”

“What about a sled?” she asks with staggered breaths from trying not to cry. “Kristoff has a sled.”

“A sled?” He grimaces and looks at me, baffled. I’m about to tell the little girl that there are no sleds in the park when I see Christian’s face illuminate. His brows rise as if he’s come up with the most amazing idea. “I have a sled, but I still have to carry you to it. Are you ready?”

Her little eyes close, and she bites down. He looks up at the mother, silently asking permission. When she nods her approval, he lifts the little girl into his arms, and I secure her broken arm into a comfortable yet stable position on her stomach.

In his tailored suit of designer threads and Ferragamo shoes, Dr. Christian Gallagher carries a little girl he’s never met toward Terrace Drive. The mother and I are walking behind him while his steps are quick and determined.

A horse is clopping down the road when Christian whistles the buggy over. The driver seems perplexed but stops anyway. There’s a couple in the carriage, tourists enjoying a scenic tour of the park.

“We need a ride to St. Xavier,” Christian shouts to the driver.

“I have a fare.” The driver points to the couple seated on the velvet bench of his carriage.

“I’ll pay you a hundred dollars,” Christian calls out.

The driver looks surprised. Happy but surprised. “What about them?” He thumbs to the couple.

“Same,” Christian offers the couple.

The man of the couple looks down at Christian, insulted by his offer. “This ride cost a hundred and twenty bucks.”

Christian’s head sways side to side. “So, you lose twenty bucks and know you did the right thing by helping an injured little girl get to the hospital.” I know him enough to know how hard it was to hold back the profanity he wanted to lace through that sentence.

The man and woman look at each other and shrug their shoulders before climbing down. I dip my hand in Christian’s pocket, take out his wallet, and pay the couple.

Annabelle’s mother protests about the money he is handing over, but he insists she get in the carriage. Behind her, Christian climbs in with Annabelle. I step back onto the blacktop after making sure Annabelle’s injury is still in a stable position.

“Call ahead and have them page the pediatric orthopedist and put in an order for full scans,” Christian says as he’s wrapping Annabelle in an afghan despite it being a warm day. “Tell them she’s my niece.”

“Is this Kristoff’s sleigh?” Annabelle peeks up from the orange-and-olive blanket.

Christian looks down at her. “Even better. This is Dr. Gallagher’s superhero sleigh of adventure.”

I watch as the horse and buggy clip-clops down the road, followed by a swarm of bikers and joggers. Then, I take out my cell phone and make the call to the hospital.

It’s so Christian to distract me when I need it most. Not that he was planning on a little girl breaking her arm, but it got me away from pondering his proposition. Although he never did say if he still wanted to go through with it.

He was right; I was avoiding him and for good reason. Deep down, I want to do this with him. I’m just scared. I don’t know how to tell him how I feel, so I do what I do best. I ignore my feelings.

I make myself dinner and then take a hot bath. It’s nearly nine o’clock by the time my phone rings, Christian’s face illuminating my screen.

“How’s Dr. Superhero doing?”

He laughs, not expecting my joke as a greeting. “Just hung up my cape about twenty minutes ago. I got a page, so I went up to the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit. A pre-op isn’t going so well.”

“Everything okay?” I curl my legs up to my chest and lay the book I was reading facedown on my kneecaps.