1. Lucy #2
My brows drop in a frown, and Quinn mirrors my expression, reaching for the creases in my forehead. I stand completely still as she pats the space between my brows with a damp palm. “What were they doing in Nashville today?”
Nate sighs and shifts Quinn into a more comfortable position on his side. “They were looking at a motorcycle.”
My gaze shoots up to his face. “To buy?”
His jaw clenches, and he nods. “I tried to talk them out of it, but Vi said Landon has always wanted one, and he’s been looking at them for a while. She didn’t want to hear about how dangerous they are or how many calls I’ve responded to where the motorcyclist didn’t make it.”
My eyes dart to the Nashville Fire Department logo on his shirt, and I offer a quick and silent prayer that Violet and Landon will be safe if they buy a motorcycle.
Quinn jabbers and reaches for me. My smile grows as I slide her from Nate’s arms. “That’s right. Come see Lucy. You know you like me better than your stinky old Uncle Nate.”
Nate’s brows rise. “Hey, I don’t stink.”
Once I settle Quinn on my hip, I make an exaggerated fanning motion with my free hand, scrunching my face up in disgust. “Pee-you! Stinky Uncle Nate.”
Quinn giggles, so I continue my performance. “He’s a yucky boy, isn’t he?”
Nate tries to shoot a glare in my direction, but the corner of his mouth is quivering with the effort of not smiling at Quinn’s sweet little laugh. “Give me back my niece, you baby snatcher.”
I roll my eyes and hold her tighter, turning slightly to keep him from taking her. “I did not snatch her. She reached for me.”
Nate holds his hands out toward Quinn, and she waves her arm at him, saying, “Shoo! Shoo!”
I can’t help the laugh that explodes from me.
I snap my mouth shut to stifle the sound, but end up snorting from the effort it takes to contain my laughter.
I clap my free hand over my nose and mouth, hoping Nate didn’t hear the embarrassing sound that escaped as Quinn continues waving her little arm.
Nate slides his hands under Quinn’s arms and lifts her from my hold while raising a brow at me. An excited, arrogant gleam shimmers in his eyes. “Thanks for teaching her that trick, Babe.”
I freeze, blinking as my eyebrows climb toward my hairline. Heat fills my chest and climbs up my neck, slowly seeping into my cheeks. Despite the sarcasm dripping from his every word, my brain snags on the last one. “Babe?”
He flashes a triumphant smirk and nods. “Yeah, you know? The pig in that movie.”
My brows drop so fast that I’m surprised they stop above my eyes instead of continuing southward with the momentum. I clench my jaw and pour all the heat from my cheeks into a glare aimed directly at Nate. “You’re an idiot.”
He covers Quinn’s ear with one large hand and gasps dramatically. “Now you’re trying to teach her foul language, too?”
I roll my eyes and turn toward the counter to wait for my order, only to find Naomi watching our exchange with a twinkle in her eyes and my muffin and drinks in her hands.
I blow out a long breath, wordlessly take my things from her, and successfully ignore Nate as I cross the room and plop down in my spot between my friends, interrupting their discussion about Emerson’s annoying boss.
I can feel Reese and Emerson’s eyes on me as I open my straw and poke it through the lid of my water cup with more force than necessary.
I take several long swigs of the deliciously cold water, not paying any attention to the water running down my fingers and dripping onto my knee from my violent straw application.
After I’ve guzzled about half the large drink—I didn’t realize how dry my mouth was—and set it on the coffee table in front of us, I meet Reese’s gaze. Her green eyes are shining with concern, and she has that laser-focused look as though she’s trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle in her mind.
I clear my throat and try to distract her. “Where’s Skye?”
Emerson sips her coffee and sets it on the table. “She had a complicated case come in, and she’s meeting with some of the other interns to study the file tonight.”
I nod and drink several more swallows of my water.
Skye just began her pediatric residency in Nashville and is only three more years away from becoming a practicing pediatrician.
I was looking forward to seeing her tonight, but now, after spotting the critical look in Reese’s eyes, I’m a little relieved that she won’t be here.
Since they both work in the medical field, they tend to analyze everyone for medical conditions when they’re together.
Once, while we were shopping for Christmas gifts, they decided that a random man in line ahead of us needed his thyroid levels checked, and I had to talk them out of telling him their conclusion.
If Skylar were here tonight, she wouldn’t hesitate to join Reese’s attempt to diagnose my grouchy mood.
I feel Reese’s gaze drilling into me, and I raise a brow at her. “What?”
Reese’s eyes narrow. “Have you had anything else to drink today?”
I frown and sigh as I take my muffin out of the brown paper bag with the Willow & Bean logo printed on the front. “Yeah, of course. I had coffee this morning, and I’ve had water all through the day.”
She tilts her head a little. “How much water?”
I shoot her an impatient look as I break off a piece of my muffin and pop it into my mouth. “I don’t know, Reese. I filled up my Stanley a few times.”
“Would you say it’s more than usual?”
“Maybe. Why?”
“I’m worried about you, Lu.”
I take a deep breath and set my muffin on my knee. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’m just thirsty.”
“And starving, and tired. Have you lost weight or noticed any vision problems?”
I pause mid-sip of water and avert my gaze as I swallow it, resisting the urge to tug on the front of my dress so she won’t notice my weight loss.
I have had blurry vision that comes and goes.
I called earlier this week and made an appointment to get my eyes checked.
Maybe these seemingly unrelated things aren’t normal after all. But that’s a thought for another time.
I have to get Reese’s probing attention off me and shift the subject to something lighter. Luckily, the door swings open again as Nate and Quinn take their spot directly across the coffee table from me. The chiming bell and the entrance of the rest of our group distract Reese for a moment.
Her eyes roam over Landon, Violet’s husband, then my sister, Sloane, and Sloane’s fiancé, Aiden. When they land on Caleb Hayes, one corner of her mouth lifts, and her eyes brighten, until her gaze drops to his girlfriend. She clenches her jaw and reaches for her coffee cup.
I take advantage of the break from her concerned gaze and brace myself to end this conversation before she decides to make an appointment for me at the clinic she works for.
I don’t notice my leg bouncing until Nate’s gaze darts from Quinn to my knee, then up to my face.
I take a deep breath and flex my ankles to still the nervous tic, embarrassed that Nate noticed, and that I noticed him.
When Reese’s eyes swing back to me—her jaw now relaxed—I meet her gaze head-on. I lean in and lower my voice to keep Nate from overhearing our conversation from the other side of the coffee table. “Please stop trying to diagnose me. It’s probably a hormone thing.”
She purses her lips, her eyes roaming up and down my body as though she believes if she stares hard enough, she’ll develop X-ray vision. “Let me get you an appointment at the clinic tomorrow after school.”
She cuts off my protest with a raised hand.
“I know you don’t want to ‘make a fuss’ or whatever excuse you’re brewing, but I think there could be something potentially serious going on.
This combination of symptoms… It’s not hormones, Lu.
” She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees.
“I just need you to have a quick blood test done. Please, for my peace of mind.”
I sigh and roll my eyes. “Only if you promise that you’re done asking diagnostic questions tonight.”
She raises both hands. “Promise.”
I cross my arms and sink into the squeaky leather couch cushions, balancing the remainder of my napkin-wrapped muffin on the arm of the couch as my upper arm brushes Emerson’s. “Fine.”
Emerson pats my knee as Reese blows an overly dramatic sigh of relief.
With Reese’s concerns addressed, I try to set my sour mood aside and enjoy our regular Thursday evening Bible Study with our ragtag group of friends—and Nate—but I can’t seem to shake the funk.
It could be hunger. Even though I inhaled that muffin, I’m still ravenous.
My stomach feels so hollow it might take ten muffins to fill it.
Reese’s concern-filled eyes land on me periodically, and I can’t help but worry that these little things that I’ve been ignoring for weeks could be a real problem.
But that’s ridiculous. I’m a perfectly healthy twenty-six-year-old woman with a squeaky-clean medical history. My family history is surprisingly pristine as well.
It’s fine.
I’m fine.
I’m sure it’s nothing.