Page 29 of Shattered

“But you were okay to go get a tattoo,” she says, motioning to the tiger tail poking out of the top of my shirt, still covered in wrap. It’s a bit tender, but otherwise, it doesn’t hurt. Some fluid has gathered under the bandage, but I haven’t fiddled with it.

She must’ve seen my SUV across the street yesterday. It’s a common model, so I figured I could avoid that. She must know my plate.

“I’m sorry. It was a mental health day.”

She sighs. “Lila, this has to stop. I let it slide for a while after your divorce because I figured you were going through a hard time, but it’s been a year now.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“When you’re not here, it’s hell. Trying to do both your job and mine is frustrating, and then I run late, and no one’s happy.”

“I’m sorry,” I repeat, more sternly this time.

Dr. Parr doesn’t look like she believes me. “You can send my first patient right back when she arrives. My one-ten is a new patient. Can you get a complete assessment done on her?”

“Of course.”

She heads to her office, and I continue filing yesterday’s paperwork. Dr. Parr left a huge mess, but I can’t blame her. She probably still left late yesterday, and this would’ve taken her another hour to sort out. I’m glad it’s Thursday, and we’re working late today. She’s not so forgiving in the mornings.

When her first patient comes in, I send her right back and continue working. A few minutes later, the door swings open again.

“Hi, good afternoon,” I say as I scribble notes on a patient’s chart. When I don’t hear a response, I finish the note before lifting my head and finding a familiar face.

“Allegra?”

She enters sheepishly, her head down and her smile absent. She looks nervous as her eyes flicker to mine, partially concealed behind her chocolate brown waves.

“Hi, Lila.”

“What are you…”

She approaches the desk slowly, like she’s trying not to spook me. “I’m sorry. I wanted to speak to you the night we made the announcement.”

“Yeah, sorry I wasn’t there.”

She smiles softly. “It’s no problem.”

It takes me looking at my computer screen to realize she’s our new patient. What the fuck?

“Are you pregnant?” I blurt.

“No,” she says calmly.

They must be trying.

“I’m sorry. If this is weirding you out, I can find a different doctor. Neela had nothing but good things to say about Dr. Parr, so-”

“Stop,” I say, holding a hand up to her to stop her nervous ramble. “Relax. Come sit back here so I can take your vitals.”

She steps around the desk to sit down in a chair beside the machine. Once she’s seated, her red summer dress tucked over her knees, I approach in my rolling chair. I pop the blood pressure cuff on her arm and turn it on, and the cuff begins to inflate.

“For the record, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything about the engagement. Ian wanted to tell you, and that was his place.”

“It’s fine,” I say simply. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” she says.

When the machine beeps, her BP is sky-high, like her pulse. The machine isn’t always accurate, so I take her pressure manually, finding that the machine was right.

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