Page 10 of Hot Life

He kissed the top of my head tenderly. “I’ve been looking forward to it all week. We could go upscale Italian and a film at the fine arts theatre, or if you’re feeling casual, we could go for Spanish tapas and a walk around the Botanical Gardens. What does my lovely bride think?”

My heart swooned. I loved my gentleman. And he looked particularly dapper today in a grey suit and cobalt tie that brought out the silver in his hair and his piercing blue eyes. I didn’t miss the dreamy gazes the nurses gave him as he walked by. Doctor Silver Fox Dreamboat. Despite the fact I had two husbands who shared beautifully, I hated women looking at them. Mine. All mine.

“Des, Caroline and I got tacos last night, so I think I’m feeling Italian today,” I mused as he opened the door of his Audi for me.

“You got it…” he trailed off as he got in and pulled out his phone. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

Cedric let out a long exhale. “I forgot I signed up to administer vaccinations at the free clinic today. They’re so short-handed. I signed up months ago and just now got the reminder text.”

My prestigious, world-renowned neurosurgeon volunteered to stick people with needles. I knew from his rants about elitism in the medical industrial complex that most doctors of his tenure would never dream of doing what they deemed a nurse’s work. My chest warmed. A few years ago it would have made me grit my teeth and stomp off. I would have perceived it as blowing me off, or a lack of prioritizing me. But ever since we worked through his trauma of losing his patient, the loss that left him unable to be a true husband to me and pushed me into being a hotwife…I understood him better. Cedric truly was good. He didn’t experience haunting thoughts of not loving his baby or not being a good parent. He was the opposite of me. Selfless, sure, loving. Maybe Odette wasn’t the only one who could use an attitude adjustment. Maybe I’d been just as self-absorbed lately.

“Can I come? I could administer bandages and lollipops?”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “You’d do that? Are you sure you don’t have classwork you should be doing?”

“Trust me, I know enough about the photosynthetic bacteria in blue algae to last a lifetime. I’d really like to help.”

“A requirement for vaccination eligibility is good health. So as long as I’m not exposing you and the baby to anything communicable, and you’re okay being on your feet, it should be fine,” he said more to himself than anything. He put a firm hand on my inner thigh and we took off in the direction of the clinic. “I’d love to have you there with me, Dot.”

* * *

A line wrapped around the outdoor tents at the health department. Elderly folks, parents with children, and people of all sorts rolled up their sleeves and waited. A nurse handed me a clipboard and asked me to help in getting Cedric’s line checked in. Once I’d reached the end, I joined him on a metal fold-out chair at his station. He’d rolled up his shirt sleeves exposing thick, tanned arms. The benefits of working in the yard were more than just nice flowers… His glasses propped on his nose in that Clark Kent sexy way of his. My husband was fine.

A little girl sat crying and squirming in the seat as he unwrapped a needle. “Jemma, do you have any pets?” Cedric asked after he introduced us to the frightened child.

She nodded her little head, sniffling. “A beta fish named Prune.”

I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my throat. I hadn’t spent much time around children, aside from when I helped in church nursery growing up, but I replied, “I work with fish. Beta fish are so pretty. What color is Prune?” Cedric smiled encouragingly at me as he wiped her arm with an alcohol swab. His eyes told me to keep talking.

“She’s purple but she turns blue when she gets mad.”

I smiled. “I love sapphire betas. Do you want to see a photo on my phone that I took of a mad puffer fish at the aquarium where I work?”

Jemma nodded enthusiastically as I held the phone for her to see.

“All done.” Cedric grinned. I passed him a purple bandage. “You were so brave, Jemma.”

“That didn’t hurt at all!” she exclaimed, jumping down. Before she ran back to her father, she turned on her heel. “Thank you, Dot! You’re a mermaid!”

I belted out laughing and Cedric chuckled along with me. “You know, I’ve had my suspicions, but I think little Jemma just confirmed it.”

Maybe kids weren’t so bad.

* * *

It was nearly dark out when we drove home from Rio’s Italian Kitchen. We were both tired but in a delirious and happy sort of way. It was a thrill, I’d realized, helping people like Cedric did. I’d only had a small taste at the clinic, but knowing that I had a tiny part in a little girl having an easier experience warmed my soul. And watching Cedric so compassionately interact with his patients was a turn on I’d never considered. I observed him being so patient and personable with the elderly who slowly rolled up their sleeves for him. His patience while the nurses sorted supplies and procedures for him. He called everyone by name, remembering them from whenever he saw them last, even if it was years ago. My husband wasn’t just a doctor. It wasn’t just a job or a way to make a lot of money. Cedric was a healer and teacher. It was who he was to his core. What lay beneath the surface of him was goodness and a pure, selfless heart. It overwhelmed me with love and devotion. It also held a stark mirror up to me, showcasing my selfishness, my bratty attitude. My ignorance to how bad life could be. How in an instant a diagnosis, an accident, or health battle could completely overshadow everything. It was an awareness Dr. Winslow lived with, and combatted alongside those in need, every day. Yet somehow, he didn’t throw his hands up in frustration at me and call me out on what a self-absorbed twit I was half the time. I complained about everything from my shoes hurting my feet to round ligament pain, itching, and every other weird symptom pregnancy had inspired. Yet he was always there to understand and offer a quick solution. No judgement or preaching. Just a warm smile and constant, undying care. I wondered how someone like him, who never met his father and lost his mother to cancer while he was in med school, could be so good. How those things didn’t make him bitter, like they surely would have made me.

Cedric really was too good for me. He was too good for the world.

He helped me out of the car, and we made our way back inside. He sat my several boxes of leftovers on the table and I grabbed a spoon. “Thanks for letting me order everything and box it up.”

Another fun new addition to my baby-induced oddities was being ravenously hungry but only able to eat a few bites at a time. My growing form wasn’t leaving much room for my regular portions. So mealtimes for me were slow. I usually resorted to snacking throughout the day just to avoid it.

Cedric popped open the lid of the molten chocolate lava cake. “My pleasure. Anything my wife wants, she gets.”

I spooned a bite of the rich dessert, licking it slowly. The kitchen was dark and the house quiet. Everyone’s cars were gone. My sisters were working a wedding and Desmond was at a meeting for the tourism board. He’d taken up a fight to save some species of rare owl and was stopping by a town hall to champion for the little critter. I half grinned at the thought of my tough lumberjack rolling up to a stuffy old local government assembly on his Harley to talk about saving baby birds. But that was Des. Hard on the outside, chocolate lava on the inside.

---