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“Thanks again for your business,” Olivia said, breezing past that. “It's been difficult getting started with the daycare here in such a small town. I only have one other kid to look after at the moment, an 8-year-old boy named Harlan, and he barely pulls his head away from video games when he gets here after school. I've been looking forward to having someone a little livelier.”
I laughed. “You might regret that wish,” I admitted. “Emma's got enough energy for 10 kids her age, and all the mischief to go along with it! Jeannie re
commended you, though, and I trust her. I'm sure you and Emma will get along.”
“If you don't mind me asking, why are you changing daycare providers?” Olivia asked. “Did Emma cause too much trouble before?” Immediately after asking the question, Olivia covered her mouth, looking embarrassed at having said that. “Sorry, I don't mean to imply that she's that much of a handful,” she said quickly. “I'm sure she isn't out of control; maybe just curious.”
There was something about seeing her flustered like that which made me want to get her even more flustered. But I decided to go easy on her. “She's been staying with her Nana while I'm at work,” I told her. “My mother-in-law, Helen.” I glanced toward Olivia, but she was happily playing with the doll and not listening to us. “Helen's getting older, though, and I just don’t think it’s fair to put the task of watching Emma on her when she is starting to have trouble just getting around to take care of herself. I thought it might be best to take some of the stress off. And when your mother told me about your daycare, it just seemed like the perfect solution.”
“I'm sorry to hear that, about Nana,” Olivia said sincerely. She glanced toward Emma as well. “Can I get you a cup of coffee? Or tea?”
I grimaced. I'd really like to stay; there was something about her that interested me. But I knew I had to get going. “I have an appointment that I need to get to, actually,” I told Olivia. “I'll have to take a raincheck.”
“Right, no problem,” Olivia said brusquely. “Well, I'll see you back here at 4 to pick up Emma. I have your cell number if there are any issues, not that I'm anticipating that there will be.”
“Good,” I said, wondering at her change in manner. Maybe the polite thing to do would have been to agree to the cup of coffee. It wouldn't take that long, and I didn't want to think that I had upset her.
I didn't know why the thought of upsetting her bothered me so much, but I tried not to dwell on it.
I glanced toward Emma, wondering if I should say goodbye to her, but she was just starting to seem happy again, her temper tantrum forgotten, and I didn't want to risk upsetting her again. I nodded a goodbye at Olivia and stepped back outside.
I shook my head to clear it and walked back to my car. I needed to swing by the office before going to see Mrs. Glover, but I figured I should have plenty of time for that.
Back at the office, I fingered through the stack of test results that had come in that morning. You'd think these things would be all electronic by now, but for some reason, the local lab insisted on having a guy deliver paper copies every morning. I supposed it made sense in case there was ever a power outage or anything like that, but it still seemed like just another backward thing in this small town.
I found the results of Mrs. Glover's blood tests that she'd had done the previous week. I paused, noticing that they were beneath Jeannie Sable's test results. I had a quick minute to look at those, I decided. Mrs. Glover's results, as expected, had all come back perfectly normal, so our appointment that morning would be rather perfunctory.
I sat down at my desk and scrolled through the documents, frowning deeper and deeper as I went. Although I'd had some idea of what I'd be looking at when the results came in, I had been hoping I was just being overly worried. But now, I was concerned to find that her cancer had progressed.
I closed my eyes, pressing my fingertips against the lids for a moment. Jeannie hadn't lived in Tamlin for most of her life, but everyone knew her. It wasn't just that association that upset me, though, or thinking about how Olivia would take the news. Instead, every patient who came in here with cancer reminded me so much of Emily, my former wife.
I swallowed hard. It had been nearly two years since Emily's death, but every time I thought about it, the pain was just the same: a dull ache in my chest that never really seemed to go away. I already knew exactly what we were going to see with Jeannie unless we acted quickly. I knew what that rapid decline in health looked like, that loss of appetite, the weakness, and the pain. If I had my way, I'd never see it again in anyone else.
I smiled a little to myself. You've picked the wrong profession, if you don't want to see people suffering, I reminded myself sternly.
I sighed and stood up, knowing that I needed to see Mrs. Glover. And knowing that if I showed up stern-faced and grim, she would only panic, suspecting that there was something I wasn't telling her so that she would still go on her vacation. Then, she'd spend the entire vacation worrying that this would be her last, and when she got back home, she'd order another hundred tests to ensure that there was nothing wrong with her.
I had to put on a friendly smile, just for her. Fortunately, I had a lot of practice in smiling when I was upset.
I'll visit Emily's grave soon, I promised myself as I walked out of my office, flicking off the lights as I went. Maybe next weekend, if the weather was nice, although now that we were getting into April, you never knew what the weather would be like from one hour to the next. But having that plan, no matter how tentative, soothed me, and by the time I reached Mrs. Glover's house, my smile was almost genuine again.
I spared a thought for the daycare provider who had made me smile that morning. There was something I liked about her already. I knew Emma was in good hands.
“And that is the biggest relief I could imagine,” I muttered as I parked my car in Mrs. Glover's driveway.
Chapter Two
Olivia
By the end of the day, I was practically pulling my hair out in frustration. The more I got to know Emma, the more convinced I was that there was a sweet little girl in there somewhere. She had shown flashes of an artistic side after lunch. But today, her default setting seemed to be 'brat,' and it had been temper tantrum after temper tantrum, to the point where I'd had to endure a lecture on properly disciplining the kids when Harlan's mom showed up to get him.
She, of course, had to walk in right when Emma started throwing crayons around the room and stomping her little feet. The thing was, I knew that I was in charge when it came to the daycare, and I knew that I could discipline them just like their parents would. But nothing I did seemed to have any effect on Emma; she just kept wailing all day.
It was impressive. I was pretty sure I would have lost my voice by now.
It had all started with the doll, which still didn't have a name. Of course, she no longer had an arm, either, so there were bigger problems for her. Not two minutes after Eric had walked out the door, Emma had gone wild, slamming the doll into the furniture with all her might.
By now, I was regretting wishing for a more energetic child in the daycare. I was exhausted after spending the whole day running after the little devil, and I was counting the minutes until Dr. Jones came to pick her up.
