Page 28 of The Scars I Bare
Several people looked up at me and either smiled or waved.
Man, this place was busy.
I glanced at the front desk, seeing the mess from yesterday had doubled.
No, tripled.
Looking down at my coffees, I suddenly felt like a damn fool.
What was I thinking, showing up on Cora’s second day on the job after witnessing how stressed they’d been the day before?
I was so used to dropping in on Jake, during his lunch break or just whenever the hell I needed to, knowing he’d make time between patients for whatever I needed, that I guessed I’d just assumed…
I’d assumed.
My mother’s voice came in my head, screeching loud and clear, like it was on some sort of speakerphone.“Do you know what happens when you assume?”
Yeah, Mom, I do.
Realizing I should probably save this conversation for some other time, I decided to just leave the coffee and a note for Jake, and maybe we’d meet up for beers later on in the day.
Because, damn, this place was two patients short of a zoo.
Stepping up to the deserted front counter, I set both cups down and leaned over, grabbing the first pen I could see. But, before I could, my movements were interrupted by a tiny voice.
“Are you stealing that?”
“Um, what?” I asked the disembodied voice of a cherub.
The presumed cherub, who turned out not to be a cherub but a little girl—Cora’s little girl, to be exact—emerged from under the desk and pointed to the pen in my hand. “Are you stealing that pen? I saw you grab it from the little hole right there.” She pointed to the small hole next to the computer monitor where several wires had been neatly shoved down to the floor.
“Um, no,” I answered, unsure of if I was being interrogated by a five-year-old or if she was just curious of my intentions. “I just planned on borrowing it.”
She shrugged, seemingly unaffected either way. “Oh, okay.” Her little head, covered in dark brown curls began to disappear below the desk again.
“Hey!” I said before she disappeared. “What are you doing under there?”
She popped back up again. I took that moment to properly examine her. I’d watched her from afar the night before as she ran around the backyard, playing with a streamer as she dodged the water’s edge. But I hadn’t gotten the chance to interact with her or to stare into those familiar brown eyes while wondering if she’d inherited her mother’s dazzling smile.
“Being tiny,” she answered. “Mommy said I wasn’t using my tiny voice well enough, so I told her I’d go practice. I thought, maybe if I tried to be tinier, it would make my voice tinier, too. Is it working?”
God, she is cute.
“Hmm…well, I don’t know. What does your normal voice sound like?”
Her mouth scrunched to the side like she was thinking real hard. Tiny freckles dotted her cheeks. “My grandmother says it kind of sounds like a bird squawking. I didn’t know what squawking meant, so I had to look it up in the dictionary.”
My heart melted a little. Okay, a lot.What kind of grandmother was this?
“Well, I’ve heard birds squawk. Lots of birds, like a whole mess of them. Big, mean birds out by the docks. And let me tell you, you don’t sound anything like them.”
“Really? What kind of birds?”
I leaned my arms on the counter. “Pelicans, egrets. The same kinds you had in Virginia Beach, I’m sure. But the really annoying ones are the seagulls.”
She got that face again, the one where she seemed deep in thought. Her lips got all squishy, and tiny frown lines appeared on her brows. “Did you know hummingbirds can fly backward and sideways?”
I was nearly thrown backward from shock.Who was this clever kid?
