Page 13 of Bad Medicine
Mia
Threehoursofsleepwas definitely not enough.
Somehow, I felt more tired now than I did when I fell into bed. The hospital had been a complete gong show all week, with everything from car accidents to street fights landing in our ER. One guy actually came in with a knitting needle stabbed through his hand. Apparently, he had been watching TV with his wife while she knit a scarf or something. He went to change the channel, not wanting to watch another episode ofThe Bachelor, and she flipped out, taking her anger out on his hand when he reached for the remote.
Wasn’t love grand?
Knowing I had to get up and do it all over again today was making me consider what life would be like if I just got up and ran away. Did people still join the circus? I wasn’t sure I had any marketable circus skills, but I thought I could sell the hell out of a bag of cotton candy.
I was still debating the pros and cons of life as a carnie when the door to my bedroom creaked open, and I smiled. Closing my eyes and pretending to still be asleep, I listened as rapid footsteps darted across the small room, coming right to the side of the bed. Scrunching my eyes up tight, I began an exaggerated fake snore, the sound like a defective freight train, and my heart leapt when I heard the distinctive giggle I loved so much.
“Mommy. It’s time for pancakes.”
Opening my eyes, I stared into the smiling face of my sweet boy, and I knew there would be no circus for me. There was only one place in the world I wanted to be, and it was right here.
“Pancakes, hey?” I asked, reaching out and hauling Jasper onto the bed, flopping him down beside me and starting to tickle his round little tummy, launching him into a fit of laughter. “What kind of pancakes should I make you, Jas?” His giggles reached an octave probably only achieved by opera singers, but I kept going. “Should they be fish pancakes?”
“Ewwwwww,” he howled dramatically. “Mommy, no. That’s yucky.”
“What about banana peel pancakes?” More giggles, softer now because he was out of breath.
“Just regular pancakes! Please!”
“Well,” I huffed, resting my hand on his belly and watching as it rose and fell rapidly. “Since you asked so nicely, I guess I can manage some regular old pancakes.” Placing a kiss on his cheek, I sat up and reached for my housecoat. “Come on down, bug. You can help me mix.”
Soon enough, we were seated side by side at the little table, a plate of pancakes and sliced apples in front of each of us. Jasper chatted away happily, going on about his teacher and the class pet, a guinea pig named Gertrude, who apparently only ate when the teacher played classical music.
I was content to sit and listen, beyond glad that he was enjoying kindergarten. I had been more than terrified when I dropped him off on the first day, not really sure how I was going to handle the next big phase of his life.
My sweet baby was growing up so fast.
Jasper was still regaling me with the tales of Gertrude when there was a knock at the door.
“Linny!” Jasper squealed, leaping from the table and racing down the hallway.
“Watch those syrup fingers, kiddo,” I called, grabbing the package of wipes I kept beside the fridge as I followed him to the door. Handing him one, I unlocked the door and smiled.
“Morning, Mia,” Linny said, her lined face full of sweetness and joy, and I couldn’t help but smile back.
Linny Jacobson was our next-door neighbor, and I had never been more grateful for anything in my entire life. When Jasper and I had moved in, I had been a new mother with no money and no plan. Linny found me that first night, sitting on the stairs to my side of the duplex, holding Jasper and sobbing like a lunatic. I had locked my keys and cell phone inside, and with no way to even consider paying a locksmith, I had succumbed to my emotions and started bawling like a baby.
Linny had smiled at me, taken Jasper in her arms, and took me to her place. She sat me down at her kitchen table, poured me a glass of iced tea, and listened while I had sobbed out my entire tale of woe. When I had gathered myself, Linny smiled and told me she had a spare key for our place, left over from the last people who lived there. Then she let me in, grabbed the diaper bag and a bottle, and told me to take my ass for a nap.
We had been carrying on like that for over five years.
“Morning, kiddo,” Linny cooed, ruffling her fingers through Jasper’s wheat blonde hair. “You ready to head out? I have a car seat with your name on it, just waiting for you to climb on in.”
Linny offered to drive Jasper to school on the days I had to work early. She also watched him for me free of charge on the nights I worked late.
She was a gift sent straight from heaven.
“I’m ready,” Jasper called, already on his way back upstairs. “I just need to get Roy.”
“Brush your teeth while you’re up there,” I called, almost certain I was about to be ignored. But, when I heard the bathroom sink turn on, I smiled.
He was such a good kid.
“How are you doing, Mia?” Linny asked, her astute brown gaze scrutinizing me.
