15. Summer
15
SUMMER
T he smell of antiseptic and freshly brewed coffee greeted me as I stepped into the clinic. It was the kind of combination that shouldn’t have worked but somehow felt comforting. The waiting area was modest, with clean white walls, cheerful posters promoting wellness, and a small play area for kids tucked into one corner.
Ava held my hand tightly, her other hand clutching Bunny. “Mommy, why are we here?”
“Enzo invited us,” I said, scanning the room.
“Is he going to play with us again?” she asked, her eyes lighting up.
“Not today, sweetheart,” I said with a small smile. “He’s working, but he wanted us to visit.”
Before Ava could ask more questions, the door to the back hallway opened, and Enzo appeared. He was wearing his white coat over a crisp button-up shirt, his stethoscope hanging casually around his neck. The moment he spotted us, his face broke into a warm smile.
“Hey,” he said, crossing the room to meet us. “You made it.”
“Of course,” I said. “Thanks for inviting us.”
Ava beamed up at him. “Hi, Enzo!”
“Hey, Ava,” he said, crouching down to her level. “How’s Bunny doing today?”
“Bunny’s good,” she said, holding him up proudly. “He wanted to see your clinic.”
“Well, Bunny’s in for a treat,” Enzo said, standing. “Come on. I’ll give you the tour.”
The clinic was busier than I expected. Nurses bustled back and forth, patients filled the exam rooms, and the air buzzed with a sense of purpose. Enzo guided us through the hallways, pausing every so often to greet staff members or exchange a few words with a patient.
“This is the treatment area,” he said as we stopped in a brightly lit room filled with exam tables and medical equipment. “It’s where most of the magic happens.”
“Magic?” Ava asked, her eyes wide.
“Medical magic,” Enzo said with a grin.
Ava giggled, and I couldn’t help but smile.
As we continued the tour, I noticed the way people responded to Enzo. Patients smiled when they saw him, their postures relaxing as he approached. Staff members greeted him with genuine warmth, their admiration for him clear in every interaction.
He was in his element here—confident, compassionate, and completely at ease.
We reached his office, a small but organized space with a desk, a bookshelf filled with medical texts, and a bulletin board covered in sticky notes and photos.
“This is where the paperwork magic happens,” he said, gesturing to the desk.
Ava wrinkled her nose. “That doesn’t sound fun.”
“It’s not,” he said with a chuckle. “But it’s important.”
“Do you help a lot of people here?” I asked, glancing around the room.
“As many as I can,” he said simply.
A nurse appeared in the doorway, clipboard in hand. “Dr. Pearson, your 2:30 is ready in Room 4.”
“Thanks, Kelly,” he said. He turned to us, his expression apologetic. “Do you mind waiting here for a bit? I have a quick appointment.”
“Of course,” I said.
He crouched down again, looking at Ava. “Be good for your mom, okay?”
“Okay,” Ava said, hugging Bunny.
He smiled and stood, giving me a brief nod before disappearing down the hallway.
I sat down in one of the chairs by the wall, Ava settling on my lap with Bunny. The sounds of the clinic continued around us—phones ringing, muffled conversations, the faint hum of medical equipment.
It wasn’t long before curiosity got the better of me. “Stay here, Ava,” I said, setting her down in the chair. “I’m just going to see what Enzo’s doing.”
“Okay,” she said, already distracted by a coloring book I’d pulled from my bag.
I followed the sound of voices, stopping just outside Room 4. The door was cracked open, and I could see Enzo inside, talking to a young boy and his mother.
The boy looked nervous, his small hands gripping the edge of the exam table. Enzo crouched in front of him, his tone calm and reassuring.
“You’re doing great, buddy,” he said. “This is just a little check-up, okay? Nothing to be scared of.”
The boy nodded hesitantly, his grip relaxing slightly.
“And you know what?” Enzo continued. “If you’re really brave, I might have a sticker for you at the end. How does that sound?”
The boy’s face lit up. “A dinosaur one?”
“I think I can make that happen,” Enzo said with a grin.
I watched as he examined the boy, his movements gentle and precise. He explained each step to both the boy and his mother, making sure they understood what he was doing and why.
It was such a small thing, but it was clear how much it meant to them.
Seeing him like this brought back memories I hadn’t thought about in years.
When we were younger, Enzo had always been the one everyone turned to. Whether it was helping a classmate with homework or listening to someone vent about their problems, he had this way of making people feel seen and understood.
I’d always admired that about him.
And maybe that was part of why I’d fallen for him in the first place.
“Mommy!” Ava’s voice broke through my thoughts.
I turned to see her running down the hallway, Bunny bouncing in her arms. “Ava, you’re supposed to stay in the office,” I said, catching her before she could dart past me.
“I got bored,” she said with a shrug.
“What’s going on?” Enzo’s voice came from behind me.
I turned to see him standing in the doorway, the boy and his mother gone. His expression was amused as he looked at Ava.
“She’s exploring,” I said, sighing.
“Curiosity’s a good thing,” he said, crouching down. “Hey, Ava. Want to help me with something?”
Her eyes lit up. “What?”
“I need to pick out some stickers for my patients,” he said. “Think you can help me?”
“Yes!” she said eagerly.
He stood, holding out a hand. “Come on. Let’s see what we’ve got.”
Ava took his hand without hesitation, and I watched as they walked down the hallway together, their conversation full of laughter and excitement.
I followed them back to the office, leaning against the doorway as Ava rummaged through a drawer filled with stickers.
“This one!” she said, holding up a bright green dinosaur.
“Good choice,” Enzo said, taking it from her. “What else?”
Ava held up a star-shaped sticker, her face serious. “This one’s for Bunny.”
“Of course,” Enzo said with a grin.
Watching them, I felt a strange mix of emotions—pride, gratitude, and something deeper that I couldn’t quite name.
Enzo wasn’t just good at his job. He was good with people. He cared in a way that felt rare and genuine.
And it scared me.
Because the more time I spent with him, the harder it was to ignore the truth.
As we left the clinic later that afternoon, Ava clutched her new stickers proudly, her smile brighter than the sun.
“Did you have fun today?” I asked as we walked to the car.
“Yes!” she said. “Enzo’s clinic is the best!”
I glanced at him, my heart tightening at the warmth in his gaze.
“Yeah,” I said softly. “It is.”