“Lately, they’ve been kind of high. I don’t know how, I don’t keep junk in the house, and neither does my mom. I might have to go speak with his daycare supervisor sometime soon to make sure his meals are healthy.”
Doc Saunders nods, and pets Matty’s hair, something I’m not sure he would let me do. Or if he did, he might pass out from the shock of it.
She goes on, running her fingers through his hair, and wiping the tears off his cheeks, even rubbing his back until he gets his breathing under control. I should be doing that. I should be in her place, trying to offer my nephew comfort, but I can’t bring myself to get up. I’m just tired. Really fucking tired.
But Christ, he needs someone like Doc Saunders, someone to give him comfort and love. He deserves that. Jules’ kid deserves that.
Her hawk eyes turn back to me, still rubbing Matty’s back. The kid soaks up the attention. “And you? Who’s taking care of you?”
I jerk, eyes flaring wide. “Excuse me?”
She grins, a twist to her mouth at my expense. “I know you heard me. You know you can only take care of Matty as well as you can take care of yourself. You’ve lost weight since the last time I’ve seen you.”
I clear my throat, and work my hand into my pocket again, searching for more candy. “Yeah, I work out. Helps regulate my sugars. So what?”
“Are you eating well?” Scrutinized. I’m being scrutinized, and I’m sure whatever tell-tale weakness shows on my face is as bright as a neon light.
“When I can.” I hate this. She does this sometimes, trying to pull me into the conversation. I want to remind her that she’s a pediatrician, and I don’t need her help.
Another twist of her mouth. “Right. And your girlfriend, is she making sure you’re eating properly... when she can?”
Ah, fuck. I look at Matty, whose blue eyes won’t meet mine. How was I not paying attention enough to hear him mention Aly? “I don’t have a girlfriend. She doesn’t take care of me, all right? Are we done here? I need to get home.”
“Wait!” she says, doing something under the cabinets of the bench and pulling out a juice box. Apple juice; the sugar jackpot. “Here, drink this, and wait twenty minutes before driving home.” She sighs, and asks Matty for a high five. The kid gives it to her, happy to comply.
“You need someone to help you, Hunter. Or else this little boy here is going to suffer.”
I jerk like I’ve been electrocuted and give her the requisite smile. We both know it’s just another way to say fuck off. “Sure. I’ll get some help.”
On what fucking salary?
I repress the sigh, and refuse to put my face in my hands and cover my eyes with darkness. I move instead to heft Matty back up in my arms, and move out of the examination room, ignoring the looks of all the mothers in the waiting area. Some are checking me out, I know, but I can’t even bring myself to give them any necessary eye contact.
They don’t want someone like me, they just want someone who looks like me. Two very different things.
I schedule Matty’s next appointment with the front desk secretary who tries to give me the eye. I want to snarl at her to make her go faster, but she’s drawing it all out to look at me. I go into asshole mode, and that seems to get the process to go a little quicker, thank God. I don’t wait the twenty minutes Doc Saunders told me to, but get Matty in the car and strap him in. I just want to go home and sleep for hours.
The drive home is a hundred times more pleasant than the drive going in. Matty even sings to Aerosmith’s “Dream On”, getting only half of the words right. I didn’t know I could smile after the day I had. The elevator ride up to my apartment is uneventful, and I’m happy he’s forgotten about the bubblegum balls I bribed him with like a pro.
When we get upstairs, only then do I realize I forgot my pouch in the glove compartment of my car. Heat and small electronic instruments don’t mix. I tell Matty to sit tight, lock up, and make my way down again, pissed when the doors open in the lobby instead of the basement like I’d intended them to go.
When the doors slide open, a dude I’ve never seen before gets in the elevator, carrying in enough groceries to feed a small country. I hold the door open for him as he waddles his way into the elevator car, and feel my jaw slacken when I spy Aly coming through the outer doors in the lobby, that the babe from next door’s holding open for her. Aly doesn’t even say thank you and that fucking bothers me.
I step out of the elevator in a daze, and hear the doors chime closed. I watch Aly dig into her purse for her phone, probably to call me, and the babe from next door use her key to get the inner doors unlocked. I can’t seem to move or speak - all I can do is watch I’ve forgotten all about my pouch.