Page 55 of Auctioned to Dr. Daddy

“Demi,” she says.

I yelp, jumping, one hand flying up to my chest.

Kitten bursts into laughter. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay,” I wave her off, struggling to get my heart to stop racing. I lick at the roof of my mouth, breathing out steadily. “I just didn’t hear you come. What’s wrong?”

“We have a patient asking for you,” says Kitten. “Mrs. Greenhorn, down the hallway.”

I think about it for a moment. “She’s the heart attack recovery?”

“Mhm,” says Kitten. “You want me to tell her that you’ve gone home for the night.”

“Who’s on the next shift?”

“Riddley,” says Kitten, and we both make a face. Riddley ended up in the wrong profession, as far as I’m concerned. He’s got a love for pretty women and fast cars and likes the fact that heart surgeon sounds amazing on a date. But he seems to have a personal hatred for the elderly.

That’s a problem, considering that the majority of our victims are over the age of fifty.

“I’ve got her,” I promise Kitten, who thanks me and then vanishes back to the nurse’s station. I make my way down the hall to Mrs. Greenhorn’s room, rapping my fist against the door twice. “Hello, Mrs. Greenhorn! I heard that you had a question. What can I help you with?”

“You’re not the man that I spoke to earlier,” she says, narrowing her eyes at me. “I wanted to speak to the doctor.”

“Dr. Stone has gone home for the night,” I tell her. “But I’m more than capable of answering any question that you might have.” Stepping over to the bed, I pick the chart up from the foot of it and glance it over. “Is this about the pain?”

“No, it’s not about the pain. You cut me open, of course I hurt. I’m not an idiot,” says Mrs. Greenhorn, waving a hand through the air. “It’s about how long you’re going to keep me in this bed. My grandson turns two in three days. I want to be home for it.”

“Oh,” I say. “That’s amazing! Are you close with your children?”

“Very close,” she says, with a bob of her head. Silvery brown curls bounce around her cheeks. “I haven’t missed a single birthday so far. I don’t plan on missing this one. And I don’t want to just check myself out, but I’ll do so if needed.”

I glance over her charts and think for a moment. “I’m not the head doctor for your case so I can’t make promises, but it looks like your recovery is coming along very well. I’ll speak with Dr. Stone when he comes in tomorrow morning, and I’ll advise an earlier release date for you.”

“Bless your heart,” she says, a smile blooming on her face. “A decision like that… You must be a mother yourself.”

My whole face goes bright red.

I debate on saying no but what better way to practice the reveal than by sharing it with a patient? Someone that is inconsequential to the entire thing in the long run? Maybe it’s silly, but I let out a heavy breath and I lower my voice, just a little bit. “I don’t know too much about it. I’m just— It’s only been about three months. I’m still expecting.”

“That’s lovely,” says Mrs. Greenhorn.

She winces when she sits up straighter, but still offers me a hand. I give her mine, and she runs her thumb over my knuckles. “I remember my first child. She was beautiful. But I was scared. I was a very young thing, and the father had opted not to stay around. Looking back now, that had probably been for the best.”

My heart twinges for her.

Mrs. Greenhorn continues, “It was a different time back then, mind you, but I went and stayed with my aunt for a while, out in the country. Ended up just never going back home. I loved that little girl. And when I met Henry Greenhorn, he loved her too. Sorry, dear, I’m running off at the mouth. That’s what happens when you get to be my age. You just get long-winded, and never stop talking.”

“It’s okay,” I promise her. “I haven’t told anyone else yet, so I don’t mind things getting long-winded.”

“No one?”

“No. I was going to tell my friend but—” Every time that I call Selma to tell her what’s going on, the words get trapped in my throat. She shouldn’t be the first person in my life to know. I need to tell Nathan first.

Who knows what sort of look I’m sporting, causing Mrs. Greenhorn to ask me, “Have you told the father?” And then, “Is he still around?”

“He is, and he’s amazing,” I say, thinking about the way Nathan promised to help me. The way that he’d taken hold of me and made my life his, letting me into his world at the same exact moment.

“But you haven’t told him?”

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