Dear Bridget, I Want You(20)

Dan Fogel was a bastard. In exchange for covering my shift, I had to cover two Saturday nights and pick him up a pile of Chinese food on an evening of his choosing. He’d initially said no, and my begging told him to up the cost. But it was all worth it when I walked into Miss Santoro’s classroom. I scanned the room for Brendan. There were a few dads milling around the room already. Little B was in the back of the class with a group of boys when he spotted me. Pointing, he said, “See, I told you my uncle was huge. Look at his muscles. We’re gonna cream you in tug of war.”

I would’ve covered twenty shifts for the way he beamed and ran over. Brendan gave me a fist bump and introduced me to all his buddies. They formed a circle around me, which made me feel a bit like Gulliver next to all the little peanut-sized boys.

“Are you really a doctor?” A suspect little redheaded freckle face squinted at me under his glasses.

I kneeled down. “I am. Do you have an ailment?”

“A what?”

“An ailment. You know…does your tummy or something hurt?”

“No. But sometimes Brendan lies.”

My eyes flickered to Brendan and back to the little boy. “I highly doubt that. Brendan is a stand-up mate.”

Little redhead put his hands on his hips. “Do you also fly planes?”

From my peripheral view, I caught Brendan’s eyes widen at the prospect of my exposing him. “Just small ones. You should come along for a ride some time. As long as you don’t mind Brendan taking the helm once in a while.”

The kid’s glasses nearly knocked square from his face when his eyes bulged. “You let Brendan fly the plane!”

I looked around and winked. “Shh…let’s keep that between us boys. I wouldn’t want Brendan to get in trouble—underage piloting and all.”

The crew of kids ran off to play after that, and I was greeted by a very pretty lady. She extended her hand. “You must be Dr. Hogue, Brendan’s uncle.”

“That’s me.”

“I’m Miss Santoro, Brendan’s teacher. He talked about you all morning. He’s super excited to have you here. I’m glad you could make it.”

“Thank you. I’m happy it worked out.”

“Do you live here in town? I work the drop off circle in the mornings, and I’ve noticed you dropping him off a few times.”

“Yes. I live with Bridget and Brendan. I’m finishing up my residency at Memorial and staying with them until I’m done.”

“Oh. You must be Mrs. Valentine’s brother, then?”

“Ummm. Yes. Bridget’s my big sis.”

“Were you both raised in England? I’ve never noticed an accent before from her…but yours is very strong. It is British, isn’t it?”

Shit. And one lie snowballs into two. What the heck? In for a penny, in for a pound. I might as well have fun with it. “I went to college and med school across the pond. I guess I picked it up over the years. Harry, my flat mate, had a pretty royal sounding accent. His brother William was even worse.”

She smiled. “Well, I like it.”

My flirting came out on autopilot. “Then I think I’ll keep it.”





Little B and I won the two-on-two basketball tournament. We romped in the egg on a spoon game, and the three-legged race wasn’t even a challenge—we pretty much walked to victory. Brendan was having the time of his life when we broke for lunch. The teachers had set up a table full of blankets and sack lunches. I grabbed our loot, and we went to sit under a tall oak.

Brendan sat Indian-style while I stretched out on the blanket, leaning up on my elbows. “Ah. It’s good to be the king, isn’t it, buddy?”

He smiled. “It’s awesome. Mark Connolly usually wins everything. He thinks his dad is the coolest because he works on airplanes. But he’s a mechanic, not even a pilot.”

I took a bite of my sandwich and eyed my little buddy. “He’s not a pilot like me, huh?”

Brendan’s face dropped. I hadn’t meant to make him feel bad. I was just teasing—all boys tell tall tales when they’re his age. “You’re not going to tell my mom, are you?”

“Of course not. Bro code. We stick together.” I offered my fist for a bump.

He looked relieved. “I didn’t mean to lie…I just couldn’t take it anymore. They’re always talking about how great their dads are. This morning, Mark made fun of me because I don’t know how to throw a spiral, and it just sort of came out.”

I mussed his hair trying to make light of it, even though I felt a crushing sensation inside my chest. “They’re all just jealous because you have this cool, long hair going on.”