Page 15 of Deprived No More

“The office manager can set up a payment plan for you if you need it.”

“Yeah, sure. Zero down and twenty bucks a month should get this paid off by the time they’re lowering me into the grave. Listen, I appreciate you seeing me. But there’s no point in this,” he says, standing from the examination table he’s been perched on. “Thanks for your time, doc.” He reaches for the door with his left hand and leaves without another glance. I’m really not sure what more I can do here.

Entering the hallway, I almost turn in the direction of my office when the expression on Holden’s face as Mr. Browning approaches him stops me in my tracks. Neither says a word, but it’s as if Holden’s penetrating gaze is sending signals to this patient. While Mr. Browning’s pace toward the door has slowed briefly, I watch as he returns to his normal stride and exits the reception area after he passes Holden.

What the hell was that about?There’s no way Dr. Ivy League and this guy have been hanging out at the Sports Page. Was Holden so put off by his very presence it caused that look?

“Nick, your next patient is in room two,” Joanie says, interrupting my thoughts.

“Okay. You may have noticed. Mr. Browning wasn’t interested in setting up a payment plan and scheduling surgery. Maybe he’ll go to the medical college, and they can take care of him.”

“Oh, my. And that hand looked bad,” Joanie adds. “I hope he finds a way to get it fixed.”

Strolling to my office, I hear Holden’s voice echo down the hallway.

“I’m running to the ER for a consult, Joanie. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Okay, I’ll let your next appointment know.”

Guess he’s on-call today, I muse as I reach for the next patient’s chart. After the chaos of the last few days at home, at least I haven’t had to contend with that. I just need to get through the rest of my day, so I can get home to my family and, hopefully, some quiet time with my wife.

* * *

Thank God this day is over early. My last patient of the day canceled, so I was able to leave the office by four. I smile at the multicolored roses wrapped in vibrant hot pink paper. There was a time I practically annoyed Kat with my flower deliveries. I chuckle, thinking about how she thought her little bungalow resembled a funeral parlor. She’d suffered so much, having surgery to remove her remaining ovary. It had devastated her, and I was at a loss to do anything to comfort her. Sending the flowers was my way of showering her with affection when I wasn’t sure how else to provide it. She was so fragile, both physically and emotionally.

Keeping my eyes trained on the road, I let out another laugh at the irony we’d have a house full of children despite her infertility. Kat was born to be a mother. It didn’t matter to us how she became one. Adoption, fostering children, or surrogacy were all options we considered. But fate brought us the perfect kids to complete our family.

Pulling into the drive, I hope Kat hasn’t overdone it today. She started her day so early and had looked so ill just yesterday. But that woman is incredible. I’m sure I’ll be in for another scolding if I try to say anything to her about taking it easy.

Parking the car, I grab my work bag and flowers and head for the steps. As is customary, I hear the boys chasing each other before I even get the door open.

“Daddy,” Olivia squeals as she runs full throttle with her stuffed bunny under her arm. Bending down to catch her before she knocks herself into my kneecaps, I scoop her up and carry her into the kitchen.

“Hi, Daddy,” Grace says from the kitchen island where she has her spelling homework spread out in front of her.

Placing a kiss on the top of her head, I ask, “where’s Mom?”

“She’s in the bedroom.”

Ah, just where I like her.I drop Olivia down onto the seat next to Grace and head in Katarina’s direction. As I step into the master bedroom, I’m suddenly speechless.

“What’s this?”

“Oh, Nick. Those are beautiful. Are they for me?”

“They were. Why are you wearing those?” My eyes take in the black scrubs she’s wearing.

“Marty called and asked if I could come in tonight. Apparently, Eve has come down with something, and they’re scrambling to find coverage at the last minute.”

“Kat. Do you not recall how sick you were yesterday? I don’t think it’s wise for you to go in tonight.”

With her hands on her hips, she gives methat look. The look where she’s calling bullshit. “It’s only for a few hours. I’m fine.”

“A few hours? It’s five o’clock now. When will you be home?”

“I’m packing a bag. I’ll probably need to stay in the bungalow in town tonight. I got up early this morning and don’t want to chance it driving back late.”

There’s no use hiding my ire. This week has been for shit.

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