Page 86 of Nanny for the Firefighter

When Bridget turns back to me, she grins softly. “Let’s go home.”

TWENTY-SIX

Bridget

The past two weeks have been a whirlwind. Mason has needed help but has been reluctant to accept it on all fronts.

I’ve also been there nearly every day and night, assisting in his recovery, along with a fewotherthings.

I feel like I haven’t been around as much for Mom, and the guilt that’s cooked up hasn’t gone unnoticed. Since Mason is doing much better—practically one hundred percent—I’ve taken the day to go with Hudson to Mom’s doctor's appointment.

It’s a little weird being around my brother like this because neither Mason nor I have decided it’s the right time to tell him about the fact that we’re dating.

As per usual, the waiting room in the clinic is freezing, and Hudson and I are chatting casually about what needs to get done today as we wait.

“We’ll need to refill the prescriptions soon. Might as well do it while we’re out, and I think stocking up on tea bags should happen.”

Mom puts a hand on Hudson’s cheek, smiling at him.

“Such a good son. And yes. More tea is necessary, or there’ll be hell to pay.”

We laugh, and my heart feels lighter, seeing my mom’s energy so perked up. The medications from last time seem to be helping a lot, and her blood levels were still moving in the right direction the last time we heard from the lab.

“I think we’ll need stuff to make that soup, too. I still want to do that. Bridget, can you help?”

I look over at her with a grin. “Sure. I’m not sure how much you trust me with your secret recipe, but I’m on board for chopping veggies.”

“That’s perfect. I’ll keep the tiny yellow cookbook safely tucked away until then.”

We all laugh, remembering that book from when Hudson and I were both too young to read. It’s been in the family forever, passed down from my grandmother.

I smirk, eyeing my mom in a playful challenge. “Maybe one day I will earn the book? But I’m more than happy to wait.”

“Hmm,” she drags out, eyeing me right back. “We’ll see.”

“Mrs. Monroe. You can come on back.”

The three of us look up at the nurse waiting at the door and follow her back to the designated exam room. We wait a few more minutes, like always, and then the doctor comes in.

“Hey, Bev. How’s it going?”

Mom smiles at Dr. Anderson, and Hudson and I offer nods. We’ve seen the woman a lot at this point, and she’s starting to feel like a co-worker or something—our partner in monitoring Mom’s heath.

“You tell me, Dr. Anderson. I’m ready to get back home and start making this soup.”

Mom has never been a particularly good patient. And despite the fact that I know I’ll be doing a fair amount of the heavy lifting this afternoon, I can’t wait.

“Your levels look great. The medications are working. Those elevated levels we were concerned with haven’t just gone down;they’re back to normal, and even your cholesterol has dropped several points.”

Neither Hudson nor I can contain the cry of celebration. I’m so damn happy to hear she’s responding to the treatment that tears spring to my eyes, and I wrap my arms around her for a tight hug.

Hudson is right there on the other side, and after enjoying it for a moment, Mom pats us each on the arm and clears her throat.

“See. You had nothing to worry over.”

“Well, you’ll still need to continue doing everything you are and continue to take the medications as directed. And the dietary restrictions are still in place, so don’t go too crazy.”

We all look at Dr. Anderson, and I have to admit that I actually forgot she was there. I nod back at her, though, squeezing Mom’s hand.

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