Page 109 of Pin-up Girl

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The first couple of weeks of school were always bedlam. I thought having Dee here might make scheduling more difficult, but she was back with her friends and happy to hang out with them as much as possible. She was also happy to wear the monitoring shirts from Brodie, once she and Aubrey made them cuter. Having Aubrey and Brodie around, just in general, made things feel better too.

That didn’t mean I was prepared when the first of Dee’s specialist appointments came up. She wanted Aubrey to come with us. I wasn’t surprised, but I was grateful, when Aubrey accepted without hesitation.

The nurse asked us a series of questions that were identical to the ones taken online, checked Dee’s vitals, and then told us the doctor would be in soon.

Dee was a model patient the entire time, and turned her attention to her sketchbook the moment the nurse left. The book itself was simple enough—light gray canvas wrapping unlined pages. I’d rarely seen her without it after Brodie gave it to her on the second day of school, and she’d already decorated the cover with an assortment of flowers, diagrams, and flame throwers.

I didn’t realize my knee was bouncing until Aubrey rested her palm on my leg and gave me a light squeeze. I covered her hand, and she flipped it over to tangle her fingers with mine. I couldn’t have done this without her, for so many reasons.

The doctor didn’t keep us waiting long, and when she walked in she gave Dee her attention first. “I’m Dr. Turner. Are you Dee?”

Dee sat up straighter on the edge of the examination bed. “Yes.”

“Who do we have with you? Mom and Dad?”

Dee glanced at Aubrey and me. “Dad and Weekend Mom.”

I still hadn’t figured out how to have the Dad’s in love with two people conversation with her. The only reason I felt like I could put it off was because Dee seemed perfectly comfortable telling anyone and everyone that Aubrey was my girlfriend and Brodie was my boyfriend. I’d need to talk to her about it anyway. When this was over.

Instead, I was preparing an explanation in my head for the doctor about what Weekend Mom meant.

Dr. Turner didn’t so much as flinch at the phrase, though. Instead, she focused on the silver disc Dee had attached to a bracelet. The metal rested against the inside of her wrist. “What’s this?”

Dee held it up, showing it off. “It monitors me, so I don’t get sick again.”

It had been Aubrey’s solution to Dee wearing the transmitter that went with her clothes. Evie made us a handful of gold and silver chains with wires hidden inside, to attach the disk to the conductor on the long sleeves of the shirts. Dee also had a necklace version for the shorter sleeve tops.

“Really.” The doctor sounded skeptical. “How does it work?”

Dee lifted the hem of her T-shirt to expose the bio-monitoring fabric underneath. “This carries pulses from my body and feeds them to an app.” That was as reasonable an explanation as anything. “Dad, can I show her?”

I handed Dee her phone. There was no reason for me to talk on her behalf unless something needed clarification, and so far I liked that the doctor was talking to the patient and not me.

Dee showed the doctor the monitoring history in her app, and Dr. Turner looked impressed. “I’ve heard of this, but I didn’t realize there was a version for the civilian market.”

“My dad knows the man who invented it.” Dee sounded proud. “And they made one just for me.”

Now the doctor was looking at me.

I shrugged, like this was no big deal. “It’s true. This is the same technology but refined.” I was pushing Brodie to do more with it, but he was hesitating. I’d even promised to talk to anyone he wanted, on his behalf, if he would share this with the world.

I was pretty sure I was wearing him down.

Dr. Turner spent the next several minutes scrolling through the history of Dee’s vitals for the last few weeks, as well as doing a light physical exam. The entire time she talked to Dee. Asking her questions about school, her hobbies, her mom… And interacting with Dee like she was a person rather than a pet or an idiot.

The interaction alleviated some of my concern, but it wasn’t enough to obliterate the voice reminding me my daughter had a heart problem, and it was unlikely this would tell us how serious it was. She still had months of tests ahead of her.

Dr. Turner moved to the stool in front of a computer at the edge of the room and made several notes. When she was done, she grabbed a stack of fresh printouts from the printer and handed the top one to Dee. “Why don’t you and Aubrey go out to the front desk, and give them this, Dee. They’ll fill your prescription while I talk to your dad about referrals.”

Dee scowled at the page. “Is it medicine? Is it cherry flavored?”

“It’s toys,” Dr. Turner said in a stage whisper. “You get to pick one.”

Dee grinned, grabbed her notebook and Aubrey’s hand, and headed out of the room.

My gut twisted in knots.

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