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“No.” She glanced back quickly and then away. “I mean, it’s a little late to feel embarrassed after you spent all that time with me at the hospital, listening to Dr. Mac’s thorough diagnosis.”
Her shyness made him a little tight in the jeans.
And that wasn’t supposed to happen, either. He pulled his black leather jacket closed, fastening the bottom of the zipper.
They moved on.
“I had a little more spotting this morning,” Phyllis said out of the blue as she walked slowly down the cereal aisle. The store was crowded—as it always was on a Saturday afternoon in Shelter Valley—but it still seemed as though they were in a world of their own.
“Just this morning?” he asked, his stomach heavy. The doctor had said not to worry if there was more spotting, but he’d feel a hell of a lot better if it just stopped happening to Phyllis.
“Yeah,” she said, taking a box of cereal off the shelf. “I called Dr. Mac’s office, though. She sees patients for a couple of hours on Saturday mornings, so I knew she’d be in.”
“And?”
Phyllis hesitated, her expressive green eyes shaded from him. “She thinks I overdid things last night with the cleaning,” she admitted, though grudgingly.
“I’m glad she agrees with me.”
Phyllis finally looked at him. “You didn’t argue with me last night.”
“I knew better.”
She held his gaze for another second and then turned away, grabbing a box of granola bars.
“You know those are filled with sugar.”
“Carbohydrates are good for me.”
“But if you got some kind of energy bar, you’d have the carbs and a large supply of vitamins, as well.”
“Yeah, and they taste like crap. Besides, I’m on horse-pill vitamins. I don’t think I need any more.”
He wondered if crankiness came with the territory, or if this was just a side of Phyllis he hadn’t seen before.
He kind of liked it. The intelligent doctor wasn’t perfect.
Deciding to keep his mouth closed for the remainder of the shopping trip, Matt amused himself by watching her at work. She took her shopping very seriously. Comparing prices, checking things off her list.
In the dairy section she took a quart of milk from the refrigerated glass enclosure.
“It’s much cheaper by the gallon,” he said, forgetting his intention to mind his own business.
“Not if you don’t use a gallon,” she told him, putting the quart in the cart. “I hate milk. I’m only buying it because Dr. Mac told me I should have at least one glass a day. I’m figuring that’s the best I’ll be able to do.”
Matt loved milk. He went through a couple of gallons a week. Now probably wasn’t the time to say so.
“I saw Sophie today,” he said, instead. He’d promised himself he’d talk to the girl about her situation, but only to get it off his own shoulders.
“How was she?”
“More talkative,” he told her. He’d actually been encouraged by that, if not by the rest of what he had to report. “She did have fuzzy arms, though. Of course, that just might be how her hair grows. It’s not like I ever looked before, so I have nothing to compare it to.”
Phyllis shook her head. “I suspect there’s a problem,” she said, her brow lined.
“I asked her to see a counselor.” Matt strolled along beside her, approving of her rice and pasta choices. Even the spaghetti sauce, about which he was rather particular.
“Did she say she would?”
