Just Her Luck (9 page)

That or he'd just use his fingers...

I'm guessing the latter. I don't think he'd let something like a lack of proper eating utensils keep him from his food.

Ephraim looked horrified suddenly.

"You mean like ...
lady stuff
?" he blurted, then immediately snapped his mouth shut.

He suddenly looked worried, like he thought he'd said the wrong thing,
once again.

I laughed and gave 'E' a quick pat on the back.

"Don't you worry, Ephraim," I consoled him, trying to keep a straight face, "the next time I have to go to the gynecologist, you can personally take me. I'll even introduce you to him, if you like."

"Him?" he asked, startled, "Do I have to?" His blue eyes were wide with mortification, jaw slack, fork dangling precariously from his hand.

Everyone broke out into loud guffaws at the look of utter dread and dismay on Ephraim's face, seeping out from his tone.

You'd think someone had just told him his favorite dog had died.

I glanced over at Reeve and saw a smile kicking up at the corners of his mouth.

He has a nice smile
, I discovered,
even if he is a grumpy, mooning happy, mean ol’ bastard.

He looked over at me, but I quickly averted my gaze, turning back to the guys.

"Don't look so put out, Ephraim, I was just kidding."

"Oh, thank god!" He relaxed visibly, "I thought you'd really make me do it."

"Why would I
want
to take you
with me?" I asked curiously.

Sometimes I ask him things just to hear what he's going to say.

I'm terrible and I'm very aware of it, but things are so much more interesting with him around.

"Uhm…" he hummed under his breath, taking a minute to think about it, "Moral support?"

I burst out laughing, imagining him breaking out into a sweat as he stewed in the waiting room, surrounded by women-
of which he has no clue how to talk to-
and diagrams of vaginas, birth control brochures and sonogram offers everywhere, his big frame squashed into a tiny chair, sandwiched between two women.

Moral support.

He'd
probably be the one to need 'moral support' after he'd insulted one too many women in there and gotten the purse beating of a life time.

He frowned at me, not seeing the humor at the idea, and I laughed harder as I busied myself with the dishes.

I listened and laughed along as Sawyer reminded Bowen to tell him what all had transpired earlier, and Bowen gleefully relayed the tale of Reeve's demotion to 'moonshine' as they all finished breakfast.

I hurried through my chores when I glanced at the kitchen clock and realized how much time had passed.

Time really flies when you're hurling insults at each other
, I thought, laughing a little, anxiety aside, about all that had transpired this morning as I rushed out the door.

Enough dilly dallying, Vieve, you have an appointment to make!

Hear! Hear!
I seconded myself.

When did I start talking to myself in my head so much?

Oh, well, I like my own company better anyways.

Erm, well, most days.

An Apple A Day...

"You should file a complaint," I told Aunt Ruthie, "I mean, that's a long time to make someone wait for such an important appointment!"

"Hush, Vieve, this is my second appointment. The first one
was
weeks ago," she said easily, breezing past me.

"I didn't take you." I frowned, following after her, confused.

What’s she talking about?

And if I didn’t take her, then who did?

"Barry did, dear." She answered my question before I'd even voiced it.

"But I take you to all of your appointments," I spluttered, blinking at her.

She shook her head and waved me off.

"I asked him to. It's no big thing, hun."

It isn't?
I thought stupidly.

"I beg to differ," I muttered quietly under my breath, brows pulled down low over my eye lids.

She just smiled and patted my cheek.

"You wait right here, sweetheart, I'll be back," she chimed in right before she ditched me to toodle-oo up to the receptionist's desk and sign in.

Still frowning, I found two empty seats and sat down, setting my jacket down to save her one.

Since when does she want Barry to take her? She's always had me do it...

"All set," Ruthie said a few minutes later as she handed me my jacket and sat down.

She pulled her purse into her lap and hummed along to the horrendously mind numbing elevator music they had pumping out of some mysteriously hidden speaker somewhere, her floral print dress tucked neatly around her, hair done up in some kind of puffy 'do'.

"Relax, my dear heart," Ruthie tried to soothe, patting my hand reassuringly.

I tried to laugh it off, going for casual, but it came out sounding more like a weird nervous giggle, so I shut up.

"I'm fine, Aunt Ruthie, really. No idea what you mean," I insisted.

She put her hand on my knee to still it as it did a fine imitation of a jack hammer and gave it a squeeze.

I gave up any pretense of pretending then.

"Even if you weren't jittering around like a sugared up bunny, your cheek ticking away, you should know better than to try and pretend anything with me, missy," she harrumphed, "Known you all your life, practically raised you. You can't pull one over on
me."

Busted.

I looked over at her, laughing when she gave me a look that suggested she'd just sucked on a lemon.

"Uhmm, it's the thought that counts?" I tried, grinning when she just gave me ‘the look'.

I felt a little triumphant when she eventually gave in, rolled her eyes at me and smiled back.

"Ruthie Ferguson?" a nurse called, interrupting us.

And we're up!

I got up to go with her, but she put her hand up to stay me.

"Don't you fret, hun, no need to go in. I'll be out before you know it."

Before I could say anything, she hurried off after the nurse.

"But... I thought you wanted me to go with you?" I trailed off, pretty much talking to myself.

I stood there like an idiot for a minute, a nugget of hope settling into my psyche when she turned around at the door.

I really thought she was going to pop up and say something like 'Just kidding!' or 'What the hell are you waiting for? Come on!', but she didn't.

"Just needed ya for the ride here, dear heart," she said cheekily instead from over her shoulder, giving me a backwards hand wave.

I winced.

Ouch.

I think I just got burned by an old lady.

Not too sure I deserved it though.

The male nurse that called her back grinned at her saucy attitude, chuckling when he got a glimpse of my completely put out expression.

He winked at me and ushered my aunt towards the back, closing the door shut firmly behind him.

Hey! Don't wink at me, you… you, overgrown, man-gorilla nurse person!
I ranted inwardly, offended that he found my plight so entertaining.

"Oookkkaaaayyy," I muttered quietly under my breath and sat down, "I just got dissed by my aunt and I'm not entirely sure why..."

The cute little blonde boy sitting next to me glanced over at me, frowned and offered me a piece of candy.

"Oh, no thanks," I said, smiling at him, "I just ate a big breakfast."

He shrugged and opened it, popping it into his mouth.

It was just then that he turned and I got a good look at the other side of his profile.

My eyes widened slightly, but I quickly schooled my features, not wanting him see the shock of my initial reaction.

He had horrible burn scars all over one side of his body. Really bad.

That poor baby!
I thought, fighting the urge to hug some stranger's child.

At first, I'd thought he was here waiting for a parent to come out from their own appointment, having quickly glimpsed him only moments earlier, but now I'm thinking he's probably here for him.

This is the surgeon peoples’ area, so the consult is more than likely for him, poor guy.

"Old people are kinda funny sometimes," he imparted sagely, and I nodded my head in acknowledgment.

Yes, yes, they are.

Can’t argue with you there, kid.

"I think it’s all them wrinkles they got," he tacked on, making me snort and giggle at the same time, his face smiling up at me from his good side.

The other side didn't move with his expressions, the scar tissue freezing his face in place, the way that it was, but he had these huge expressive eyes that told you what his body couldn't.

How did I miss that when I came in here- the scars? And how did I not notice at first?

Not that it was really anything to me, anyways, him having scars
- it doesn’t change who he is on the inside-
but they really stand out, the angry red and
purple tissue a stark contrast to his fair complexion and very youthful face.

You really couldn’t miss them.

I don’t know how I had.

But then again, that's not really me
- worrying about how others look or actively trying to seek out things like that.

Being judged about my own unpolished shell, I could care less about people's outer wrapping.

Plus, I was a little busy worrying about Aunt Ruthie
, I reminded myself.

"Hmmm. You think so?" I asked curiously, hiding my amusement at his bold statement.

"Sure," he agreed, nodding his little head vigorously, candy stuffed into the side of his cheek.

He looked like a cute little chipmunk with it crammed in there like that, cheek puffing out at the side.

So cute.

"Makes me think their brains must be full of them too. Probably slows ‘em down some.” Little lips pursed, he was completely serious, sweet little face scrunched up in thought.

I burst out laughing, but quickly smothered it, letting it fade into a pretend coughing fit.

Whoops. Heh. Heh.

Ha! Ha! This kid is awesome!

"I wouldn't say that too loudly," I whispered to him confidentially, leaning in a little, a smile quirking my lips, "there are quite a few
old people
in this room right now, and if what you say is true, then I don't think it would be wise to upset them. Do you?"

"Nuh-uh.” He shook his head slowly, wide eyed, scanning the room for the elderly.

I grinned, laughing when he eventually caught on to the fact that I was having one over on him.

He smiled and laughed back.

A man came over and sat down next to the little boy, putting his arm around him protectively as he settled himself, his tall frame and big body cramming into the little seat.

"Whatcha doin', sport?" the man asked him quietly, stuffing his cowboy hat onto the little boy's head, revealing a mass of brown stick straight hair as the man eyed me warily from his peripheral vision, sharp grey eyes missing nothing.

I sighed at the loss of company.

Bummer, fun’s over now, it looks like.

I picked up a magazine, acting like I was browsing through it while I settled in to wait for Ruthie.

Guess the little guy's chit chat with me is over.

Too bad, he's kinda fun.

"I was just talking to this lady," the boy told the man, gesturing at me, "We were talking about old people and wrinkles. I think it makes them kinda funny, slows ‘em down."

His announcement was a little too loud in the quiet room, drawing stares from other people in the waiting room, even a few reproachful looks.

Eyes narrowed to slits, I gave them all a teeth baring grin, glancing up from my magazine, daring someone to say something.

The judgmental jerks.

He’s just a little kid. Kids say stuff.

Besides, it was funny.

Get over it!

Almost everyone, much to their benefit and future health, kept quiet, looking away after a moment.

I stared down the last straggler, an old man who looked even more ornery than Reeve, but even he relented at the look on my face.

Damn straight, people!
I thought triumphantly.

"Shoot, I gotta learn to do that!" the little boy whispered fiercely, looking at me with something akin to awe, "then maybe kids at school wouldn't stare so much."

My heart squeezed in my chest at that, and I looked down at him.