Page 25 of Blood and Buttercups

I press my lips together, flummoxed. “I…I don’t think I said it was my neck.”

The doctor looks surprised. “It wasn’t?”

“No…it was.”

“Nine times out of ten, that’s where it is.”

“I’m confused,” I say as she prods the scar. “My brain keeps jumping to impossible conclusions.”

She gives me a brief smile as she places her stethoscope on my chest. “Take a deep breath.”

I do as I’m told, and then she moves to my back. After I breathe again, I say with a weak laugh, “If this were a movie, I’m pretty sure you would tell me the guy was a vampire.”

Dr. Granger holds up a light. “Say ah.”

Her strange silence doesn’t make me feel much better. She then checks my ears and goes back to her laptop.

“Your vitals look all right,” she says, “though your pulse is a little fast and your temperature is a few degrees too low—but that’s normal, too.”

“Normal for what?”

She gives me another professional smile. “First, let’s see what the blood tests tell us.”

“Something is wrong with me, though?” I say, feeling lightheaded.

“I don’t want to misdiagnose it, so we’ll wait until I can read your results. But you shouldn’t worry too much. If it’s what I think it is, it’s easily managed. You’ll be feeling better in no time.”

“Oh…okay.”

“Go on up to the lab on the second floor. I’ve called in an order. They should be able to get you right in.”

“When will my results be ready?”

“I should have them next week. We’ll talk more then.”

I nod numbly.

Dr. Granger pauses by the door before she leaves. “Tonight, eat another steak. Stay away from fruits, vegetables, and grains until next week’s appointment.”

I stare at her blankly. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s just until we get you back on track.”

“Wait, am I contagious? Can I make someone else sick?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

After she leaves, I walk down the hall and stop at the office to take care of my co-pay. When I’m finished, I step into the lobby and find Noah sitting in a chair, reading a children’s magazine.

“Sophisticated choice of reading material you have there,” I say lightly, pretending my mind isn’t reeling.

He sets it aside. “It was this or a celebrity trash magazine.”

“Were you able to spot all twenty differences?”

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