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I glance at the immediate tension in her features and understanding dawns. Her sister must have had some medical emergency.
“Come with me,” the doctor says but pauses when he sees me right behind her. “Are you family too?”
Ava glances back at me and looks poised to deny it but I cut her off. “You could say that."
She gives me an incredulous look at the lie and I shrug. It’s only a little white lie and it’s not like she has been completely honest with me either.
“You should wait here,” she murmurs, but I shake my head.
"Yeah, you should wait here if you're not family," the doctor corroborates.
I say nothing, giving the doctor my best smile the one that makes me look like a shark. He stares at me for a few more seconds before his eyes widen. I can tell the moment he recognizes me because he instantly says, “Oh sorry. I had no idea...sir, I'm so sorry to waste your time. Come on, follow me.”
Ava shoots me an annoyed look as she walks, but I ignore her. It’s not my fault that I get special treatment or that people bend over backward to accommodate me. It comes with the territory.
We walk through the halls until we reach a room separated by a white curtain.
And then he pulls back a curtain to reveal what looks to be a six-year-old girl in the bed.
“Your sister is pretty young,” I comment.
The girl blinks at me inquisitively, then her gaze quickly shifts to Ava who claps her hand over her mouth.
.
The little girl smiles. “Mommy!”
“Oh, Mimi, you’re okay. Thank God. Thank God.” Ava runs to her and immediately wraps her arms around the little girl. And I stand in shock staring at them like an idiot.
Did she just say mommy?
As in mother?
As in Ava is her mother?
I might be gaping at this point but it’s just so astounding I can't help myself. I was expecting to find a lot of things in this hospital bed—even a long-lost lover—but not a daughter. Ava has a daughter, a little girl who is still staring over her mother’s shoulder at me.
“Hello,” she says and extends a hand to me. “I’m Mimi. Are you one of mommy’s work friends?”
“Um, sure," I shake her hand not entirely sure why I do. Maybe it's the shock or because despite her age the girl's speech patterns and mannerisms mark her as much older. Or am I just that out of touch? What do I know about kids anyways?
“Which one are you?” she asks. “Because mommy hasn't mentioned you before."
"I'm her boss."
"Ah. The insufferable one."
Ava gives her daughter an incredulous look as if she’s never said those things.
But then her daughter continues. “Mom talks about you all the time.”
“I do not,” Ava announces and then looks back at me. I smirk.
“What happened to you, honey?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. He wouldn't tell me unless you got here.”
We all turn to the man who was watching the exchange silently. At our regard, he clears his throat.
