Page 90 of Dr. Attending

She ignores his threat and leans in to whisper, “He only agreed to the costume if he could carry around a riding crop and spank me if I got my routine wrong.”

I feel my cheeks flush as I reach for my phone on the kitchen island, searching for a way to tune out their banter. But the second I open a text from Weston, a wave of realization washes over me—I’m tired of shaking the snow globe.

“Caroline . . . Caroline . . . earth to—” Morgan’s voice jolts me back to reality.

“Sorry,” I mutter, reaching for my purse. “Um. I need to go.”

“Wait. Wait. Wait,” she calls after me, darting out of the room before returning seconds later with something clutched in her hand. “You need this.”

She holds out a plastic yellow stethoscope that she definitely stole from the hospital because it’s not great quality.

I arch a brow at her, but she threads it around my neck anyway.

“To complete the look.”

Chapter 32

Weston

On Halloween last year, I was in such a brain fog that I didn’t have the mental capacity to figure out a costume for Carter. We weren’t going anywhere, and I was simply focused on making it through each day without having a complete breakdown.

This year is different, though.

This year, I’ve got candy for trick-or-treaters in a bowl by the front door. Pumpkins are sitting on the front porch steps. And my son—my perfect son—is dressed as a baby astronaut, holding a plush spaceship in one hand as he balances himself against a wicker chair. To say that I’m in a much better place would be the understatement of the century. The only thing missing at this point is Caroline.

Sure, I saw her last night after her exam. But Morgan had some sort of emergency, so she didn’t make it to my house until late, and by the time she finished the food I left in the oven for her, she was out cold.

I cherish any time that I get to spend with her because I know she’s busy, but it just never feels like enough.

“Hey, little man,” I say, crouching in front of Carter with my phone. “Give me a smile.”

Carter looks up at me with a toothy grin, the corners of his mouth smudged with a bit of drool. He waves his spaceship in the air like he’s taking it on a mission to Mars, and I snap the picture right as he tries to take a step toward me.

“Good job, dude. You’re getting so close.” I reach out to steady him so that he doesn’t fall and smack his head on the ground.

He clings to my fingers as he takes another step, and I try to ingrain this moment in my memory because the time goes so fast. He already feels like a different kid than he was a few months ago, and any day now, he’s going to start walking on his own. Then, pretty soon, it’s going to be running, playing sports,driving . . . driving me crazy.

I scoop Carter up and shake my head as memories from my teenage years flash through my mind. I’m screwed if he’s anything like me.

“Bet you worked up an appetite, huh,” I coo, bouncing my son on my hip as I walk inside for dinner.

Once I get him settled in his high chair with his Little Spoon meal, I pull out my phone and type a message to Caroline. She wanted me to send her a picture of his ensemble tonight since she’s going to a Halloween party at Morgan and Walker’s house.

One small step for babies.

One giant leap for babykind.

I smile as I look down at the picture, grateful I didn’t miss this moment with him.

Even though my parents are out of town, I’m sure I could have found a sitter if I had really wanted to. But my priorities have shifted—they’ve realigned because I know that it won’t be like this for long, and I’m going to soak up these memories for as long as I can.

I close my phone and place it in my pocket after sending the same photo to my family group chat. Glancing over at my son, I take in the mac and cheese smeared across his face and his happy expression as he shoves steamed broccoli into his mouth.

I haven’t changed out of my scrubs yet, and it’s a good thing because he’s a mess.

“You’re a little menace,” I tease, wiping him down even though he’s not even halfway done with his meal.

Carter grins like he’s proud of himself, studying me intently as I heat up the adult version of his microwave meal and sit to eat alongside him.

---