25. Landry
CHAPTER 25
landry
ROBIN, ETHAN P.
I check the name on the chart twice before opening it. Sure enough, it’s Tenley’s nephew. I’m already Jake’s pediatrician, but I’m surprised to see Ethan on my caseload. I sift through his records quickly to make sure he doesn’t have any preexisting conditions I should know about, then knock softly on the exam room door before letting myself in.
“Hey, there,” I say awkwardly when I find Tenley sitting in a chair with baby Jake in her arms while Ethan lies back on the exam table. He barely glances up from his phone to nod at me until Tenley reaches over and backhands his thigh. He groans and reluctantly sits up.
“Hi.” Tenley turns and shoots me an apologetic smile, and I wonder if they didn’t give me the wrong chart by mistake.
“What brings you guys in today?” I ask as I take a seat on a rolling stool. “Is something wrong with the little guy?”
“No, Jake’s fine. Well, he has been a little fussy since he spiked a random fever the other day, but I didn’t notice any other symptoms. We’re actually here because of Ethan’s ankle. It’s been giving him trouble for just over a year now.” The baby grunts and stirs in her arms, and she sighs when she adjusts him, sounding exhausted.
“And you want me to take a look,” I offer, still distracted by the baby’s increasingly loud protests.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, draping a blanket over her chest. “He’s so stinking greedy. Anyway, all we need is an orthopedic referral, if you don’t mind. Our health insurance requires it,” she continues as she works beneath the blanket. A second later, I can hear smacking and gulping.
I glance at Ethan, who seems bored and completely unbothered. “Uh, yeah, sure, I can do that. But I don’t think that’s necessary with the hospital’s insurance,” I tell them. I only know because I looked up the details of the policy for Daisy.
“Oh, he has the state employee health insurance,” she replies. I blink a few times, so she clarifies, “He’s on JD’s policy. We all are. He said it made more sense for his retirement.”
“Is that even possible? JD’s not his dad or anything,” I retort without thinking.
Ethan snorts, and Tenley narrows her eyes slightly. “Not that it’s any of your business—but yes. JD and I share domicile custody, which basically makes him one of Ethan’s guardians. In fact, thanks to our family lawyer, JD legally outranks Ethan’s biological father.”
I clear my throat and look away, kicking myself for putting my foot in my mouth again. “Sorry. I, uh, I’m sure I’d have known all that had I taken the time to read through his chart more thoroughly.”
“It’s fine, Doc,” Ethan volunteers. “We’re not exactly a normal family. One minute I was living with my grandparents, and the next, I’m begging my football coach to stop walking around the house in his drawers.”
I laugh shortly. “Well, if there’s anyone who understands what it’s like being the coach’s kid, you’re looking at him.”
Ethan smirks at me, to my surprise. “Or is that just something guys your age do? Go around in their underwear in front of all their roommates?”
I blink. “Uh, I don’t know. I can’t say it’s a common practice for me.”
“See, he respects his roommate’s wishes,” Ethan says to Tenley. “It’s not so hard.”
She clicks her tongue. “You’re not a roommate, you’re a tax deduction. And give JD a break. The last time that happened, it was the middle of the night, and he was delirious from trying to soothe a crying baby. You’re more likely to get accidentally flashed with a boob around the house these days, anyway.”
“Ew. Who wants to see your boobs? Right, Doc?” Ethan turns and nods to me.
My eyes widen and flash to Tenley’s, and she immediately reaches out to slap Ethan’s arm. “Stop that,” she scolds him through her teeth.
Ethan shrugs, still staring me down. “I mean, unless he’s seen ‘em before?”
Tenley’s jaw lowers. “Ethan Paul Robin, what has gotten into you?”
“The tea,” he replies, leaning back and crossing his arms.
I glance back between the two of them. “What’s … the tea ?”
Tenley narrows her eyes at him. “Gossip. He must have heard we dated a long, long time ago. And I imagine he thinks it’s funny.”
“Oh. Why would that be funny?” I ask dryly.
Now they both turn to look at me. “Because it’s awkward,” Ethan says. “And because it pisses JD off.”
“JD has nothing to be upset about,” she mutters. “We were in junior high when that happened, and we’re all mature adults now. Right, Dr. Reed?”
“Technically, I was in high school.”
Tenley glares at me. “So, how about that referral, Doc?”
“Yep,” I say, realizing she’s annoyed at me, too. “Just let one of the receptionists know which orthopedic you’d like Ethan to see, and I’ll sign off on it. Anything else I can do for you today?”
“There is this one spot on my lower back—a weird freckle. Mind taking a look at it?” Ethan ventures, a smile playing at his lips. “You remember, right? I mentioned it to you the other night on the way back from the wedding reception.”
I inhale when it hits me. Ethan was the one who brought Daisy and me home after my sister’s wedding when I was too drunk to drive myself. That means … he must have heard some of the stuff I said to her.
“I think you’ve managed to jog my memory,” I say quietly.
Just then, baby Jake fusses again, squeaking until he releases what sounds like a full load into his diaper. Tenley whimpers, clutching the blanket against them.
“I think that was another blowout.” She turns to Ethan. “I’ll meet you out front after I change Jake. Behave yourself, or else.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he croons. She shoots me another apologetic look before she shuffles out of the room with the diaper bag, leaving me alone with Ethan.
“What do you want, kid?” I ask.
He raises his brow. “What’s going on with you and Miss Daisy?”
I recoil. “None of your damned business.”
He blinks, refusing to back down. “You don’t remember anything from that night, do you?”
“Not much,” I admit reluctantly.
He leans forward conspiratorially. “You asked her to follow you into the bathroom to help you with your aim … in front of me … after you called her a sexy Rapunzel .”
“What?” I shake my head in disbelief. “I never said?—”
“Bruh, you totally did.” He sits back and crosses his arms over his chest. “Ask her if you don’t believe me.”
“There’s nothing going on between us besides the fact that we’re roommates. And even if I’d actually said any of those things, I meant it as a joke.”
“Then how do you know what she looks like naked?”
I gulp. Not only because he’s got me cornered, but also because I’m picturing Daisy in her underwear again.
“This is a completely inappropriate discussion.”
“It is,” Ethan confirms. “Which is exactly why you never should have said all that crap in front of me in the first place.”
I stare at him for a second longer. “What do you want?” I ask again.
He sighs. “Look, as entertaining as it is for me to watch you mess with JD and Blake, do us all a favor and give it up. It’s impossible to resent them forever. Trust me.”
I furrow my brow. “That’s it? You want me to pretend I like the Bourgeois brothers?”
“No, I want you to quit making yourself and everyone around you miserable by trying to one up them.”
My stomach turns with guilt. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I get it, you know, being torn between loving and hating them, knowing how good they really are and realizing you’ll never measure up to them.” He sniffs indignantly. “And even though it’s not exactly the same, I think I understand how you felt about Blake marrying your sister. You don’t need to worry about her, though. He’s loyal.”
“What the hell would you know about Blake Bourgeois and my sister?” It almost comes out as a growl. But I’m over Blake and Loren’s marriage, if I’m being honest. It’s the way this kid just called me out on most of my biggest insecurities that’s making me consider breaking the Hippocratic oath at the moment.
“A lot more than I know about you and Miss Daisy,” he retorts with a grin. “Or should I say Mrs. Reed ?”
My nostrils flare as panic shoots through me, but I clamp my jaw shut and stop to reassess the situation before I speak again. “So what, you just go around minding the adults’ business?” I pose, buying myself some time.
He shrugs. “Yeah, kinda. Well, technically, they just sort of forget I’m around or post crap in the wrong group text, but here we are. Just know that whatever Blake’s done in the past, he’s not that guy anymore. I’ve watched him change, all because of Loren and those babies. But that’s how these guys operate. Once they decide they care about someone, that’s it. There’s nothing they wouldn’t do for the people they love.”
“So what’s it to you whether I go on hating my brother-in-law forever?”
“Look, believe it or not, Blake’s done as much for me as anyone else. And that shit you said at the wedding really hurt him, especially because it was true and he’s been killing himself to get past all that. You owe him an apology.”
“I’ve already apologized to my sister.”
“You owe Blake an apology,” he repeats slowly, his voice stern. “And although I personally find it hilarious because I’ve never seen anyone get under JD’s skin the way you do, you should apologize to him, too.”
I clear my throat. “For …”
He smiles. “For the borderline disrespectful comments you made about his wife while you were drunk, particularly when you implied you still had a thing for her and wouldn’t let something as silly as her being married stand in your way.”
I gulp. Daisy had warned me about that part. “I must not have said anything too bad about Tenley if I’m still alive,” I blurt my thoughts aloud.
“Actually, you have me to thank for that,” Ethan offers smugly. “Like I said, it was fun to watch. I’ve never seen JD so close to losing his temper. Congratulations.”
“Shit,” I say, then sigh. “For the record, the only feelings I have toward your aunt are respect … and maybe a healthy fear.”
He nods in agreement. “You did tell me as much on the ride home. But I’d like you to make sure JD knows it, too.”
“This is exactly why I don’t drink,” I mumble under my breath.
“No kidding. If that’s the stuff you say after a few glasses of champagne, I’d love to see you high.”
I glare at Ethan. “It was more than a few glasses. And while I appreciate your candidness, I think it’s time for you to go, kid.”
“I really do have a weird mole on my back, though,” he says with a grin.
I let out a loud exhale. “Fine, turn around.”
I examine Ethan and reassure him that the birthmark on his lower back is in fact normal before walking him back to the front desk.
“Good talk, Doc. Glad we got all that settled. I was really worried about that back freckle.”
“Yeah,” I say.
“It’s a good thing I came to you, since you’re somewhat of a back freckle expert, right?”
I grunt, and he continues.
“And you won’t mind relaying the good news to both of my uncles?”
“Sure,” I force out, holding back a smirk. The little shit is clever, I’ll give him that.
“All done?” Tenley asks when she emerges from the bathroom with her baby in a sling.
“For now, at least,” Ethan mumbles, pulling out his phone again.
She shakes her head, looking exasperated with him, then she turns to me. “Thanks, Dr. Reed.”
“Why does that keep sounding so weird when you say it?” I say without thinking, but I quickly follow up with a friendly smile.
She huffs, but her expression softens. “You’re right. This business of growing up and getting old is all really strange, isn’t it?”
“It really is,” I confirm, earning a side-eyed glare from Ethan. Then something else odd catches my attention, and I lean in to study the baby’s ruddy cheeks. “Tenley, didn’t you say Jake had been running a fever and acting fussier than usual?”
“Yes, why?” She glares at me warily.
“Mind if I take a look?”
She nods and lifts him out of the sling for me, and I click my tongue to get his attention while I run through a quick exam. I unzip the top half of his onesie, and his bottom lip trembles until I pretend to tickle his chubby shoulders while I check for more evidence of the same rash I found on his cheeks.
“Hmm,” I hum. “I think I know why he’s been so grumpy. Well, besides the obvious case of being a coach’s son.”
“What is it?” Tenley asks hesitantly.
“Roseola,” I tell her, though I keep my eyes trained on Jake’s as I run my finger along the sides of his face and point out the red splotches, hoping to distract him from the fact that he’s not staring back at his mama.
“Isn’t he young for that?”
“Yes, but it’s viral, so it’ll pass quickly. They normally run a high temp for a few days, maybe get some swollen lymph nodes here,” I add, tickling under his chin and making him squirm. “Then the rash comes out, and they start to feel better.”
“Oh,” she says, surprised. “That actually makes a lot of sense. I was worried he was going through another growth spurt already, but I bet he’s just been comfort nursing.”
I nod. “His throat could have been sore, too. An oatmeal bath and a little hydrocortisone cream will keep him from getting too itchy. Otherwise, the worst should already be behind him.”
I tug on his zipper again, and he blinks up at me as he lets out a loud burp.
“Already back to normal,” Ethan muses behind us, and Tenley smiles, looking more relieved. Then she hands Jake off to Ethan to take care of their bill.
“Hey, Cheryl,” I begin, leaning over the desk toward the billing receptionist. “Would you mind making a note of Jake’s diagnosis in his chart?”
“Of course, Doc. But it’s not actually Jake , is it?”
“Yes, sorry. It’s short for Joseph Drake the Fourth ,” Tenley answers, already digging for her wallet.
“You can write off their copays, too,” I add, and Cheryl nods as she clicks on a keyboard.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Tenley says quickly.
I shrug. “I guess we’re technically family now, right?”
She stops and nods. “I guess so. Thanks, Landry.”
“Yeah, thanks, N’oncle ,” Ethan echoes sarcastically behind me. I’m tempted to jerk my elbow back, but then I remember he’s holding Jake.
“See you around, Ethan,” I say through my teeth instead.
Dr. Broussard comes up then and greets Tenley. They make small talk for a few minutes until Jake fusses again, and Dr. Broussard turns to me once they go.
“If you don’t have another patient waiting, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he tells me, holding up a hefty chart.
I take it and flip through the patient’s files. They detail the story of a ten-year-old boy named David who’s been struggling to regulate his Type 1 diabetes symptoms since infancy. But things seem to have taken a positive turn in the last few months, which is probably why I haven’t seen him around.
“What changed?” I mumble to myself as I skim over his latest test results. My eyes catch on a mention of his DAD, and I realize what’s been making the difference for him. “He got a diabetic alert dog?”
“Yes,” Dr. Broussard confirms. “It took a while to make it happen, but David’s dog can scent the ketones and isoprene in his blood stream and alert him before his glucose levels spike or drop, giving them enough time to adjust his insulin or get some carbs into his system. It’s been a game changer for them, and David can finally do some of the things he’s always wanted, including playing sports.”
I hum thoughtfully. “I imagine it gives his parents some peace of mind.”
“As well as his pediatrician,” he adds, smiling.
One of the medical assistants opens the door then, and a gangly boy wearing goggles for glasses charges in with a chocolate labradoodle hot on his heels. A woman with similar features trails behind.
“Hey, David!” Dr. Broussard greets him.
“Hey, Dr. B,” the boy returns, reaching up to deliver a high five and marching on as if he owns the place.
I chuckle to myself and follow them into the exam room, where Dr. Broussard introduces me and David tells me about his best friend, Mack. Mack sits up from his place at David’s feet as soon as he hears his name and turns to give the boy’s hand an affectionate lick.
David’s mom answers a few of my questions about their lives with a service animal and tells me about the overall improvement in David’s health, such as his recent weight gain. David proudly relays that he’s grown an inch and gained a few pounds since his last visit, and we talk about football for a few minutes before they go. Then I ask Dr. Broussard more about the nonprofit organization that trains and places dogs like Mack and the application process.
I see a few more patients before the end of the day, including another toddler with Roseola, and I get home later that afternoon to find Daisy watering her plants on the front porch. She grins and waves at me as if she’s genuinely happy to see me.
She may be the only person who’s ever made me feel that way, but I shouldn’t have let myself get used to it. For the first time in a while, I’m reminded that our time is limited. Things are going to have to change soon.
Daisy should get the all-clear to drive in a couple of months, barring any more episodes. She’s also been preparing for her certification exam so she can qualify for that permanent teaching position and full benefits. And once she doesn’t need me to taxi her around or share my health insurance, there won’t be any reasons left for us to live together or stay married.
An unexpected pang of regret pierces my chest at the thought of divorcing her, of leaving this home we’ve made together over the last few months, of leaving Daisy. It’s going to be much, much harder than I thought.
I groan and run my hand through my hair. I never should have let her go through with this in the first place. It was selfish of me to make that offer to marry her knowing she didn’t have any other options aside from running home to her parents. Rowan was right before—I needed someone new to take care of, and helping Daisy was like switching from one addiction to another. I’d stopped smoking only to start drinking. And I’m not sure I have the willpower to quit this time.