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“Gina, though I just knew my third-born would be . . .”
“A son, I know.” I almost forget to cough this time.
“Yes, your old dad is a broken record. Sweetheart, meeting you has softened my heart in ways your older sisters haven’t. You’re my biggest accomplishment.”
Oh, shit, this is the motivational setup. My father assumes I have a 24-hour flu. I’m scheduled to fly to Japan tomorrow. Nope. I’d rather imagine Santino’s arms wrapped around me, sipping on pumpkin spice latte, with oodles ofpumpkincandles all around. So I cough again, hacking my chest.
“Th-thank you . . . So much for the comp—”Hack-hack. “...Compliment.”I’ll take more of them every six months or so, that depends on you, buddy.
“Let me get your mom on the phone. She’s got those vitamin C gummies.”
“Ye-ye—”Hack-hack-hack.
“Never mind. I can’t have you getting your mom sick. She has to prepare for a luncheon. Stay home. I’ll send Ste . . .” Dad grumbles under his breath. “Who knows the deal as much as you?”
Nobody. “Steven?”
“Someone, not Steven. Sweetie, he has Gabby and the kids. Japan’s much too far of a venture for him.”
“My secretary.” I blink. Nikki has all of Steven’s competence in her big toe. Alright, I’ll cease with the exaggeration—her pinkie toe.
* * *
Later in the evening,my oldest friend, Shanda, and I walk along a shopping center promenade. She mentions my week at the cabin and pulls me into an expensive lingerie store.
Half-jokingly, she plucks a silver number, declaring, “You should buy me this.”
“No, Doctor.”
“Girl, you sure know how to spit out that title when it’s beneficial to you. I have med school loans to pay. You have athousandsquare feetof clothes and shoes!”
“Have you been to that bar around the corner from your house? Since you up-and-got-married, I have to do all the traveling, except for this evening as this place is equidistant from our jobs.”
“Was that whole spiel necessary, Gina?”
“Nope. I just like the word equidistant. It’s a dead word.”
She chuckles. “Heh, well, I haven’t been by there.”
“On your way home from the hospital, go take a peek inside, please.”
“Why?”
“For your placement. I need new black friends. Single ones. And the bartender is the epitome of BBW. I was digging her style.”
With a listless glare, Shanda returns to the rack. “You know what? I’m about done with you, Gina. She does know how to rock the hair, though. So, tomorrow? New boo.”
“Same boo from July,honey-boo-boo.”
Shanda checks the months off with her fingers. “July, August, September,October. . . three months!”
“Eh, we met mid-July. So, sure, I guess.”
“You guess! What did you do on your one-month anniversary?”
“How old are you?”
Grabbing a bamboo hanger, she reaches out for me. I spin away in the skyscraper heels she’s drooled over.
