Page 14 of The Doctor's Simple Life

He holds out his hand, and my Gramma takes it, her eyes sparkling with the kind of look that says,Now, Sienna, just what have you got against this fine young man here?

I don’t comment. I’m still too breathless from running to form a full sentence. This is probably the first time I’ve ever seen him be nice. And even though his alter ego is making me seem like a bad person for complaining about him so much all week, I can’t think of a single word to say.

He leads Gramma through to the living room and gets her settled on the sofa. “You’ll be comfortable here.”

“Not too hot, not too cold. I’m just right. Thank you.”

He spends a little longer with her, and then when he’s sure she’s settled, he comes over to where I’m standing in the corner, an utterly indecipherable look on his face. “You did the right thing, coming to get me.”

“I shouldn’t have left her alone,” I say, keeping my voice low to try and stop Gramma from overhearing.

“No, probably not. But you were worried. You needed the support.”

“I guess I did.”

“So then, it was right. And plus, I know a thing or two about seizures.” He rubs the back of his head almost shyly, like he’s making a confession. “Almost anything can trigger this kind of event. Brains are set up in the most ridiculous way possible. You wouldn’t believe the kind of electrical chaos that goes on in there.”

I bite my tongue to stop myself from sayingI’m actually a medical professional too. I probably would.I’m too intrigued by his human side to interrupt the flow.

“The chances are,” he continues, “that this is just a freak, one-off incident. She doesn’t seem to have any history of seizures, and she’s bounced right back. I wouldn’t worry too much. Though, if it happens again, I would get her checked out by a doctor.”

“By a different doctor, I say, unable to help myself from sniping at him.

But he barely reacts to my bait. “As long as I’m here, I’m all yours.”

Then a strange look comes into his eye and I have to look away from him, because that look makes my heart flutter in a way I don’t want it to.

Something is happening here in my Gramma’s kitchen. This is just a little too raw. Tomorrow, I’ll go back to hating him. But for now, even if I wanted to, I can’t.

He helped Gramma. I couldn’t hate him if I tried.

CHAPTER 7

REECE

Ican’t think of anything else to say to Sienna, so I head back across the living room to Mrs. Hale. I sit down on the sofa beside her and give her my very best charming smile. I don’t know what it is about Sienna’s grandmother, but I take an immediate shine to her.

I usually find old people tedious, but I guess knowing that this woman is a part of Sienna helps me feel connected to her.

“You’re still doing good, Mrs. Hale?”

She pats my thigh. “Much better now, all thanks to you, young man.”

“I’m just doing my job,” I say with a grin. It isn’t lost on me that Mrs. Hale and Sienna both share a look, one where Mrs. Hale seems to be insinuating something, and Sienna seems to be trying to deny it.

“It’s a good sign that you’re so alert. Sometimes it takes people up to an hour to feel like their old selves again.”

“I’m stronger than I look,” says Mrs. Hale, puffing out her chest a little.

I can’t help but chuckle at that. If there was one word I would never pick to describe this woman, it would be frail. “I’m sure you are. But in any case, this week, you’ll want to keep yourself nice and hydrated. Make sure you eat well. Try to do a little exercise, if you can. Just basic stuff, really, nothing too strenuous. And just in case, if you can avoid flashing lights, that would be perfect. I don’t think photosensitivity is your issue, but we’re best avoiding anything that could cause this to happen again.”

“You’ve been very good, young man. I’m good as new.” She pats my knee again, and I feel a warm rush of something that I think is pride or possibly satisfaction.

I’d almost forgotten what this felt like. To really help people.

I like my job as it is. Plastic surgery is what I’ve specialized in, and I’m damn good at it. But I haven’t felt like this in years, like I was actually doing good. Wasn’t that why I became a doctor in the first place? To try and do some good?

These days, patients come to me because they know I’m the best. They tell me what they want, then leave again. I hardly ever do follow-ups. I never do home visits.

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