One Day in Apple Grove(27)

“Not that much.”

He looked up at Mrs. Doyle. “Has she had a fever?”

“Just one night, but then she’s been fine. What do you think the rash is from?”

“Let’s do a strep test and rule that out.” When he’d taken the swab, he said, “Now I have some special stickers. Would you like fairies or kittens?”

“Fairies,” Christina said solemnly.

“If you and your mommy will just have a seat in the waiting room by Mrs. Sweeney, I will let you know the results in a few moments. The rapid test only takes ten to fifteen minutes. I will still have the sample sent out for a follow-up culture, just to be on the safe side.”

“Come on, Christina,” her mother said. “Let’s read the book we brought.”

Settled on the sofa in his waiting room, Mrs. Doyle’s raven head bent toward her daughter’s. The gentle way she stroked her daughter’s back and brushed a lock of hair from her child’s eyes filled Jack’s heart with warmth. He remembered the times his mother had rubbed her hand up and down his back when he’d been ill as a child. It spoke of tender feelings…it spoke of a mother’s love.

“Doc Gannon?”

He turned toward the deep voice. “Ahh, Mr. Turner,” he said, greeting the older gentleman. “How is Rudy?”

At the mention of his son’s name, the man smiled. “He’s doing well, back home on leave. He’s decided the navy is the life for him.”

Jack’s gut clenched remembering the reasons he hadn’t extended his tour. There were times when he had absolutely loved the camaraderie of the navy and still missed it—but then he’d wake up during the middle of a violent thunderstorm reliving the horror of those moments the last time they’d been under fire.

Before his mind could replay the events of that day, he pushed those thoughts aside and focused on his friend’s father. “So what brings you here today?”

“Did something to my ankle.”

“Let’s have a look.” The older man’s ankle was swollen and tender to the touch. “Can you move it at all?”

From the look on Mr. Turner’s face when he tried to rotate his ankle, Jack suspected it was more than a bad sprain. He sat down on the stool with wheels on it. “Now,” he said, rolling over to his terminal. “You need to have that ankle X-rayed to make certain there is no fracture.” Writing the prescription for an X-ray, he handed it to the man. “One of these days, I’ll have an X-ray machine, but until I do, it’s only about a forty-five- minute ride to Newark. Do you have someone who can drive you?”

“As soon as my wife gets home from work, she can drive me.”

“Good,” Jack told him, handing him the prescription. “Until then, don’t put your full weight on it. I’m going to wrap it for you. I have a pair of crutches you can borrow until you’re healed.”

Once Mr. Turner left, he checked the rapid test for little Christina.

“Just as I suspected.” The test read positive.

“Mrs. Doyle,” he said, walking into the waiting room. “The test is positive. I’ve already called in a prescription for Christina for amoxicillin at Weir’s Drug Store. They’re taking care of it for you right now.”

“Thank you, Doc,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “Come on, Christina. Time to go.”

The little girl held up her fairy stickers and waved at Jack. “Thank you, Doc.”

He grinned. “Be sure to take all of your medicine, Christina.”

“Yes, sir.”

He felt older than the pines surrounding his parent’s home, and they’d been there long before Jack had been born. In spite of that, he was smiling as the ladies left.

“She’s such a dear,” Mrs. Sweeney said.

His office quiet for the moment, Jack had time to enter information into the charts of the patients he’d seen during the day. He still had a few hours to go before he was finished for the day, and he hoped that Jamie had behaved for Caitlin.

As soon as the thought of her popped into his mind, he couldn’t concentrate. It was a good thing his day was almost over. Struggling to keep his mind on the job at hand, he decided that a call to see how things had been at his home when Cait stopped to check on Jamie was not out of the ordinary.

“Caitlin,” he said quietly, when she answered his call. “How’s little Jameson?”

“How attached were you to that card table?”

He noticed the laughter in her voice. “What happened?”

Giggles turned to chuckles, and chuckles to belly laughs before she finally started to wind down again enough to answer him. “The vinyl top is shredded and two of the legs have been gnawed on past recognition. Maybe you should have faced the vinyl top side out.”