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"Oh, dialysis went fine," Cora Hargrove, my aunt's dialysis nurse, says with a rueful laugh. "She's doing really well."
"That's good," I say, breathing a tiny sigh of relief. Aunt Ophelia, my dad's aunt, is the only family I have left…my only real connection left to anyone else in this world. I looked for my biological mom after my parents died, but the adoption was closed. The agency wouldn't tell me anything. If I have any other family, I may never know. I'll never get the chance to ask my parents why they never told me I was adopted. I'll never know where I came from. Having Aunt Ophelia helps. Her kidneys may be failing her, but her mind is still sharp as a tack. She still remembers how excited my parents were to bring me home from the hospital, and how much they adored me.
"Did you know your aunt posed nude in the sixties?"
I press my lips together and make big eyes at Cora. I did not know that.
Cora grimaces, tucking strands of hair behind her ears. "You may want to start checking her bag before you drop her off." She reaches beneath the reception desk and fishes out a photo album before passing it over to me. I immediately recognize the faded cover. It's been sitting on the very top shelf of Aunt Ophelia's bookcase for as long as I can remember. "I would not recommend flipping through those."
"She's naked? Likecompletelynaked?"
"Your aunt was impressively limber."
"Heavens to Betsy," I whisper, staring at Cora in shock.
And then we both burst into peals of laughter.
"I can't believe she brought this! Oh my gosh, Cora," I cry, shoving the photo album into my bag and wiping my eyes. I want to be half as cool as my aunt when I grow up. She's a little bit wild and untamed, but she lives her best life every moment of the day and never apologizes for who she is. She marches to the beat of her own band, and you can't help but want to march along with her. She also fights for what she believes in, no matter how if she has to fight alone. "Did she show it to everyone?"
"I confiscated it before too many people saw it," Cora says, her light eyes dancing with humor. "But she flipped it open right there in the waiting room and gathered the patients around for story time." Cora's body shakes with laughter. "I thought the janitor was going to keel over, Scarlett."
"Oh my god," I mouth, covering my face with my hands.
Cora laughs again. "It's been an interesting day."
"I'll say," I mumble. First, Finn sets my whole body on fire by whispering dirty things in my ear and then spending the whole day sitting at a table reading mafia romance. Now, this. I don't know what game the universe is playing with me, but I'm not sure if I should thank it, or if I should hide under the covers until it picks someone else.
I mean, seriously. The hottest man I've ever met is reading my favorite books because they're my favorite. He spent the entire day at the bookstore because he needed a quiet place to work, yet he didn't work at all. He flirts with me and calls me pretty baby. If this isn't a game, it's reality. And if it's reality, I'm a crazy person because he asked me out and I turned him down.
Why did I do that?!
Oh, right. Because he's the hottest man I've ever met. And I've never even been kissed.
Meh.
"Is she ready to go?" I ask Cora, deflating like a balloon.
"Yeah, she's ready." Cora eyes me oddly, her light eyes filling with concern. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, fine." I wave her off with a weak smile. "It's been a weird day."
She reaches across the desk to squeeze my hand. "I'm here if you need to talk."
"Thanks," I whisper, gratitude welling in my chest. I love Cora. She's so sweet to me and so good with Aunt Ophelia. She's the first friend I made here. I push away from the desk and head toward Aunt Ophelia's treatment room to find my aunt ready to go.
"Scarlett, dear!" She beams, holding her wrinkled hands out toward me. "I wondered if you'd forgotten about me."
"Of course not," I say with a smile, reaching for her hand. I place a kiss on her lined cheek. "I was getting an update from Cora. Nude photos? Really, Aunt Ophelia?"
"It's art, my dear.Art," she says. The mischievous glimmer in her blue eyes tells me that she didn't bring that album for its artistic merit. Not that she'll ever admit it. Aunt Ophelia is a swindler.
She knows exactly what she's doing when she's causing chaos. She likes to watch the fallout because it keeps her entertained. But she's eighty-two years old and fully believes she's reached the age where she can get away with it. For the most part, she's right. People let her do what she wants because she's elderly and no one ever wants to be the jerk who tells an old lady no. But I'm onto her tricks.
"You're incorrigible, you know that?" I say with a quiet laugh, looping my arm through hers as I scoop her bag up from the chair with the other.
"Thank you, dear," she says, patting my hand as we duck out of the room.
"Aunt Ophelia, that was not a compliment."
