Chapter Seven
Theo
Being inside Jennifer’s classroom takes me back to when we were little. The eldest kid in our family was born to be a teacher. She used to make us play school all the time when we were little. Tommy liked to trip her up with random facts, and Heather always got called into the principal’s office. I was happy hanging out with her, so I did whatever she wanted to do. She and I were two peas in a pod, even though we hardly pass for siblings. The only thing we really share are the God-awful dimples. She and Tommy have long, lanky legs and light-brown hair like our father. Heather and I got the crazy hair and the short genes in the family.
“Class, this is my brother, Dr. Theo.” Jennifer’s eyes light up when she speaks to her students.
The entire class of miniature humans stares at me, afraid to move. I wave to them, and a few dare to wave back. I’m not going to bite, especially first graders. That would be rude and certainly bad for business.
“He’s a pediatrician, and he also has a medical condition that you might find interesting.”
A little hand pops up.
“Yes, Kade?” she asks.
Kade pushes his thick glasses up on the bridge of his nose. I can tell he’s the kind of kid that loves to ask questions every chance he gets.
“Does he have chronic dry eye?”
I glance at Jennifer. They might give me a run for my money.
“No. No, he does not. At least, not that I know of.”
Another hand pops up.
“Molly?” Jennifer asks.
“Does he have a yeast infection?”
“Uh, no,” Jennifer replies.
I clench my teeth to keep the chuckle down that’s starting to spew through my throat. I stare at my shoes, hoping I can regain my composure. If not, I’m going to need a hefty dose of anti-giggle-biotics.
“What about erectile dysfunction?” another kid asks from the back of the room.
Tell me he didn’t ask me that. Grind, grind, grind. My molars are going to be little nubs before this is over. Dear Lord, please help me. Love, Theo.
“Okay, it’s obvious that you kids watch way too much television,” Jennifer says.
“Ask your doctor if it’s right for you,” another one quotes.
“He is a doctor,” says another kid.
Oh God, here comes the chuckle. Please make these kids stop. I do an about-face and stare at the whiteboard that’s covered with math problems. I try to think of something terrible—lost kittens, hunger, war. My body trembles as the laugh escapes.
Jennifer elbows me in the ribs. “Why don’t we let Dr. Theo tell us?”
I clear my throat, take a deep breath, and count to three before I have the courage to face the kids again. I silently give her the “you owe me big time” message. She shrugs.
I clap my hands to get myself psyched up for the conversation. “Okay. Would it be all right if we sit on the rug over there?” I point to an old latch rug in the corner of the room.
“Sure,” Jennifer says. “Everybody head over to the story-time station.”
“Yeah!” they scream as they rush over to find their place on a huge smiley face rug. I’m pretty sure that rug was in Jennifer’s bedroom when we were little, because who else would have a grape juice stain in between the eyes of the face?
“You can sit by me,” a little boy says.
I kneel down. “Well, thank you.”
“Crisscross, apple sauce,” a little girl says, smiling.
I nod and try to crisscross my legs under me. I reach into my pocket to retrieve a piece of candy. “Can anyone tell me what this is?”
“Candy!” they all yell.
“And what is candy made of?”
“Sugar!”
“Yep. Did you know that all the food we eat ends up as a type of sugar? But not like the sugar in this candy. It’s a sugar called glucose. Can you say glucose?”
“Glucose!” they eagerly reply. I could say Armageddon, and they would gleefully chant it back to me. I should try it.
On second thought, I’d better not.
I take the piece of candy and pretend to eat it. “Now, when I eat it, it goes down my throat into my stomach. What happens next?”
“It makes poop,” a red-headed girl says.
Okay, so I set myself up for that one. I should be more specific next time. I sort of remember being six, and I loved to say poop too, so I can’t fault them for that.
“Not yet. What’s your name?”
“Camille,” she replies.
“Well, Camille, it does end up as poop, but there’s something before that.”
Camille giggles and nudges Kade. “He said poop.”
The class sniggers. Using the word “poop” never ceases to be funny. I’m a doctor, and I’m supposed to be all adult-acting, but bathroom humor still brings out a chuckle in me. Jennifer would argue that I have a mental capacity only slightly higher than most of her class, and she’s being generous with her assessment.
Jennifer stands. “Guys, this is all fun, but let’s calm down, okay?”
“What happens before it becomes poop?” I ask, trying to get them back on target. I am going to write the director of the school system and insist that my sister get a raise. This is one tough job.
“Pee?” a little boy asks.
“Nope, but good guess. What happens between the stomach and making poop?”
There is silence. Jennifer hides her amused expression behind her hand as she sits back to enjoy the show. Finally, after what seems like forever, a little girl with messy light-blond hair raises her hand.
I point to her. “Yes. What’s your name?”
“Stella,” she replies.
I fix my eyes on Jennifer, and my eyebrows shoot up. The only other person I even know with that name is my mother. I take another gander at the little girl. The name seems to suit her. She is too cute for words.
“Okay, Stella. Do you know?”
She cringes as she says, “Digestion?” Her pretty green eyes beg me to tell her she’s right.
“Yes!” I give her a high five. “Digestion is what happens to our food from the time we put it in our mouths until the time we…”
“Poop,” the entire class yells.
Facepalm.
“I think we’re all clear about that,” Jennifer says, interrupting the cheers about poop and pee. “Let Dr. Theo continue. I’m sure he has a point somewhere.”
“Yes, I do.” I condense my ten-minute adult lecture about what diabetes is and how I have to manage it to a thirty-second, first-grade version. They’ll be more interested in the blood-and-guts stuff, anyway.
I wrap up my talk by pointing at my monitor. “And I tell the machine how much insulin I need.”
“How do you know how much?” a little girl asks.
“Good question.” I take out my Accu-Chek glucose machine from my backpack. “I need a volunteer.”
Twenty hands shoot up into the air.
“Um, you. Stella Bella. Come here, and you get to check my blood sugar.”
“My mommy calls me that.”
“Your mommy has good taste in names.”
She giggles as I give her an alcohol wipe packet. “Open that and wipe my finger with the alcohol.” I point to my ring finger.
She does exactly as I tell her with the most serious expression.
I put gloves on her that swallow her tiny hands before I give her a safety lancet. “Don’t touch that blue button yet.” I press the “on” button on my Accu-Chek machine and insert a test strip. “Ready?”
“Yep.” Her uncooperative hair falls in her face, causing her to blow the locks out of her eyes.
I hold her hand and push the lancet to my finger, but I let her finger cover the blue button. “Push the blue button.” The lancet clicks. “Ow!” I yell and laugh.
The kids scream. Stella grins at me. A cute little dimple appears on her cheek. Together, she and I let a tiny drop of my blood fall onto the test strip.
I point to the “start” button. “Push that button right there.”
She does as instructed. I take the safety lancet with the retracted blade and place it in an old soda bottle that is clearly labeled DANGER.
I hold a gauze pad on my finger and remove Stella’s gloves. “Very good.”
She bounces from one foot to the other, enjoying the praise. The other kids crowd around me.
The machine beeps and displays 120. “Not bad, but I need to give myself one unit of the sugar police. Who wants to give me a unit of insulin?”
All hands shoot up again.
I let a kid named Calvin give me insulin through my pump, but I’ll bet he’s more interested in using it like a video game.
I gasp in mock shock. “You did it.”
“Cool,” he replies. “What happens if I push the button again?” He reaches for my pump, but I shove my shirt down and stand up from my “crisscross applesauce” position before he can send me into insulin shock.
“Let’s don’t find out.”
Jennifer claps her hands together. “Class, can everyone say thank you to Dr. Theo?”
“Thank you, Dr. Theo!”
“It’s time to line up for PE.” All the kids jump up and rush toward the door. “John, it’s your chance to be the line leader.”
John fist-bumps my sister and leads the class into the hallway and out of sight.
I follow Jennifer back to her desk. “They’re a funny bunch.”
“Oh my God. I thought I would die when they asked you those questions. Do you have chronic dry eye? That was too spondicious.”
Here she goes again with those made-up words. I sit down on the edge of her desk and wipe my face. “What does that mean?”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m surprised you don’t know what it means.” She piles her hair on top of her head and runs a clip through it. “It means what you think it means. It’s really up to you. That way, I’m relieved of all liability.”
I crunch up my brow. “Ooookay.”
She pulls out two water bottles from a mini refrigerator under her desk and hands me one.
I take a swig from the bottle.
“Do you think you’re going to like being back in Nashville?”
“I think so.” Especially after this morning’s turn of events.
“I know I’m glad you’re back. Do you plan on going to Dad’s church now that you’re back in town?”
I nod. “Absolutely. I’ve missed his sermons.”
His teachings have really saved me from a lot of crap over the years. They didn’t keep me out of trouble, but they did help me through it all. And surprisingly, none of us kids ended up like typical PKs, which is short for preacher’s kids. I guess the closest any of us came to being a hellion was Tommy, and he’s the smartest one of the bunch. Sallister University can’t even intimidate the genius of the family. Last, but certainly not the least, is the baby of the family, Heather. So far, she has made it to graduate school without going wild.
Jennifer and I sit in silence. I can tell something is on her mind, and I’m sure she can tell my mind is weighted down also. We’ve always been good at reading each other.
“How was today?” she asks.
There she goes, trying to read my mind. One time, I scratched the bumper of her car, and before I could even confess, she was asking me what I did. Our connection can be pretty freaky at times. She should moonlight for the psychic network because she could make a killing.
“Good, I guess. I didn’t really do anything except get my schedule and go through orientation, get my blood drawn.” Thinking about who drew my blood makes my heart skip a beat. Simmer down. You’re not in middle school anymore. If I tell her about what happened, she’ll go all matchmaker on me.
“So the long hours start when?”
“I’m on call next week.”
She snarls.
“And… I’m also going to pick up some night shifts in the ER for extra money.” I cringe and lean away from her, waiting for the lecture. “But it’s for a good cause. You remember. Doctors Without Borders.”
“Still, those long hours are not healthy for you. It messes up your sugar levels and gets you all befizzled.”
I shrug. “I’ll try to stay un-befizzled. Besides, I knew from the get-go it was going to be rough.”
“Yeah, but you’re through with your residency. Why didn’t you take a job as a pediatrician and be done with it?”
“Because with this fellowship, I can do research and get my specialty in endocrinology. You know, maybe make things better for kids like me in third-world countries.”
“My brother is a hero.”
I snort. “I’m no hero.” I play with the label on the water bottle.
“So, why aren’t you happy?” She sits on her knees like a first grader would.
“Oh, I’m happy, I guess. I don’t know. Jeez, stop reading my mind.” I run my hands through my hair. It’s probably standing on end after the day I’ve had. “You know, Mallory moved here with me, but not really with me.”
She groans. “Is this the same Mallory that you have nothing in common with? The one that doesn’t understand why Mama buys her clothes from the thrift shop or works for the Legal Aid Society?”
I peel the label off my water bottle. “Yep.”
“Wait, you told me y’all broke up.” She makes a rolling gesture with her hand, signaling for me to explain the nonsense to her.
“We did, but she got a job in town, anyway. She hates this city, but I know what she’s up to. This is her way of accidentally-on-purpose bumping into me all the time. I’m glad it’s over, but I don’t want to be alone the rest of my life.” Alone isn’t the right word. Being alone at times is therapeutic. Being lonely sucks.
“You don’t have to be alone. You’re a great person.”
“Well, I told her again it was over and if she was hell-bent on moving to Nashville, she needed to get her own apartment.” I think back to when I first told Mallory my plans. If I didn’t have such quick reflexes, I would still be picking linguini out of my hair. “She was so pissed.”
“That’s a good first step.”
“Yeah. Eventually, it was going to end, anyway. Mallory—most girls, really—always made me feel like I was a stick-in-the-mud for not wanting to party.” Thanks, diabetes.
“Well, their loss.”
I nod. “I know. You’re right.”
“Now that Mallory’s out of the picture, you never know what might happen. You know, when one door closes…”
“Preach on, sister.”
She taps my water bottle with hers. “So, what’s up?” She nudges me with her shoulder.
Of all the people in this world, Jen is the only one who could help me figure out this crazy situation I’m in. And even though I risk her mothering me to the brink of insanity, I need to talk to her. Here goes nothing. “I saw someone I knew in college. I was convinced she was the one.”
She leans back to study me and crosses her arms. “How come I didn’t know about this girl?”
I grin. “I don’t tell you the really good stuff.” But my grin fades as I think about Juliet… Darla. I can’t get that face, those dark eyes, her silky dark hair, and that gorgeous mouth out of my mind. I finally got one little snicker out of her today, and it almost transformed me into a wet noodle. “It brought back a bunch of memories.”
“Good memories?”
I nod. The best.
She rubs my arm. “What’s wrong with that?”
“I think I really freaked her out. She went from being shocked to angry to sad all in one minute. It was a very strange tilt-a-whirl of emotions. I couldn’t keep up. At one point, I thought I was gonna have to call a code on her.” Maybe she thought it was a one-night stand, and she was upset because I had the nerve to stir up old thoughts and feelings. Except it wasn’t that. At. All.
Jennifer stares at me for the longest time before she is able to form words. “Does this have anything to do with the stain on your shirt?”
I chuckle as I remember the earlier incident. “Yeah. It was like she was terrified when she saw me. I could have sworn she felt the same way I did.”
“Well, it’s been a while since college. Maybe things have changed.”
“I hope not.” I look up at my sister, but her eyes stay fixed on the floor. “Now, you spill it. What’s on your mind?”
She becomes fidgety all of a sudden. “Can we table that for another day?”
“Are you exputtered?”
She stands without responding and adjusts a stack of class worksheets.
I love rattling my sister. “Chicken.”
She blushes. “Get out of here. I need to go too. Matt and I are leaving for a cruise tomorrow.”
“Ah, yes. Is this a ‘make a baby’ trip?”
She bites her lip. “He wants a baby so badly, but I don’t know if I’m ready. I mean, I always thought I was ready, but now that we’re seriously talking about it, it makes me nervous.”
Whoa. I didn’t see that one coming. “What? Sis, you’d make a great mom.”
She blinks a tear away. “Thanks. I needed to hear that. It’s such a big step. I’m around kids all day long, so you’d think the thought of having one at home would be a no-brainer.” She nudges me with her shoulder. “Now, get out of here.” After she gives me a hug, she pushes me toward the door.
Seeing her on a regular basis is going to do a world of good for my sanity. I give her a hug before I leave her classroom.
Jen pokes her head out of her room. “Hey, Theo, tell me this girl’s name, and I’ll pray for the two of you.”
I can’t keep from smiling. “Her name is Darla.”
She gasps and covers her mouth. Before I can ask why she has a deer-in-the-headlights stare, she slams the classroom door. She needs a vacation in the worst way.
I really should ask what that reaction was all about, but if I do, I’ll never get any rest before my grueling shifts at the hospital start tomorrow. And I’ve got a cute wellness nurse I need to get reacquainted with.