“What’s a snowmobile?” she asked.
For the next few minutes as we drove and got out of the car, we discussed the merits of owning four snowmobiles, one for each person that was living at our house.
By the time we got into the doctor’s office, we’d moved onto different topics of discussion.
Dinner and a movie.
“Maybe we should do sushi.”
I looked at my five—almost six-year-old and just shook my head. “You’re so spoiled. I didn’t even know what sushi was until I could pay for it myself.”
She pursed her lips and blew me a kiss. “If I’m spoiled, it’s because you made me that way.”
That was true.
I’d been so guilty that she’d lost her father and then had been so sick that I’d given her anything she could ever want.
Ice cream for dinner? Anything to make her pick her head up and smile.
Sushi and crab? If that got her to eat, so be it.
As we got to the receptionist’s desk I couldn’t help but smile at her frazzled look. “What’s going on?”
“Dr. Pendelton is delivering a baby.” She paused. “I know you’re supposed to come today.”
I saw a red truck pull up outside and turned my head to the side to see Odin get out of his truck and head up the stairs to the connected building next door.
“Any way that I could get that blood and go next door to get Odin to do it?” I asked curiously.
I was sure that I could get him to agree.
Plus, if I didn’t get it to her today, I might not be able to get her in until next week due to state testing at her school.
And I hated the thought of seeing her go downhill in any way, even minutely.
The receptionist looked out the window and paused. “You think Odin—Dr. Mayer—will agree to that?”
I knew he would.
“Yes,” I said. “Want me to run over there and ask?”
She blinked. “Yeah. Sure.”
I caught Wendy’s hand and headed next door, hoping that there weren’t any dead bodies out on the morgue table for Wendy to see.
When I got inside it was to see Odin half-dressed, yanking a wet t-shirt off over his head.
He paused and looked over his shoulder. “You knock?”
I shrugged. “Sometimes. But you’re the one who left the door open.”
“Oh, you’re big, Mr. Odin,” Wendy pointed out. “What’s that scar on your chest?”
I studied said scar and wondered about it myself.
“Nothing of importance,” he said as he reached for a t-shirt hanging on a hook by his desk.
He shrugged it on, then gestured at me. “You give me a minute to change my clothes?”
