Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
I didn’t fall asleep until after three. The game adrenaline took forever to burn off, and the conversation at two a.m. didn’t exactly allow for peaceful slumber. I should have been dead to the world this morning, but that tiny little baby whimper had me flying out of bed like the house was on fire.
I hop in the shower and within ten minutes, I’m dressed and mentally sifting through the contents of the fridge with the idea of cooking breakfast.
In the kitchen, I find Maddie at the table with her laptop open, hair scraped into a messy knot, one leg jiggling under her chair in time with Grayce’s unhappy little grunts. Grayce is slumped against her shoulder, cheeks pink, fist stuffed in her mouth, tugging her ear with the other hand like it personally offended her.
Maddie’s phone is on the table, wedged between a notepad and a pen and she’s got an earbud in her left ear. “I understand you’re full today,” she’s saying, voice clipped with effort. “Can you recommend someone taking new patients? She’s eleven months. No fever yet. Ear tugging. Fussy since last night—yes, we tried Tylenol.” A long pause and her expression darkens. “So, you’re saying if she has a fever, you could work us in, but otherwise, I’m shit out of luck?”
Maddie closes her eyes against whatever’s being said on the other end, and I skirt by her to the coffee pot. I pour myself a cup and lean against the counter, watching.
“Okay, fine… yes, thank you.” She ends the call with a tap that’s polite but barely.
“Trying to get Grayce into a doctor?” I ask.
She nods, trying to type on the keyboard on her computer with one hand. “Everyone’s booked. The earliest I can find is Friday.” Her mouth flattens. “I don’t want to have to take her to an urgent care or the ER, but I might have to.”
We. We might have to, but I keep that inside.
Yeah, I don’t want her sitting for hours in a waiting room filled with coughs and pinkeye. “Agreed. We need to get into a pediatrician.”
Maddie shoots me a look that says, No shit, Sherlock.
Grayce lets out a warbling sound of complaint, her face screwing up in misery. Maddie peers harder at her computer screen, perhaps trying to will a good doctor into existence who can work Grayce in this morning. I see the calculation in her eyes, the mental list forming of all the things she needs to do. I guarantee you the one thing not on that list is asking me for help.
“I’ll make a call,” I say, setting my coffee down and scrolling my contacts on my phone.
“A call for what?”
“To find a pediatrician for Grayce.”
“You don’t have to.” It comes out fast, automatic. A reflex, I’m sure.
“Not asking,” I say, because I can’t stand here and do nothing while she grinds herself into dust.
I tap the number for Drake McGinn, our primary goalie who’s been injured, but more importantly, a father.
He answers on the second ring with a jovial “What’s up, buttercup?”
“Sorry for the early call,” I say. “Need a recommendation for a pediatrician. Grayce might have an ear infection and we’re having a hard time getting in somewhere. Figured since you’re a dad extraordinaire, and your wife happens to be one of the richest women in the world, you’d be able to guide me.”
I risk a glance over at Maddie whose mouth is hanging open, and it takes all my strength not to laugh.
Drake doesn’t get weighed down by nonessential questions. He merely says, “Give me fifteen minutes.” Then he hangs up.
I set the phone down and pick up my coffee mug. Maddie still stares at me but then her jaw gets to working. “Who’s the dad extraordinaire that you know who also happens to be married to the richest woman in the world?”
“Not the richest woman,” I correct her. “One of the richest. And that would be Drake McGinn. He’s one of our goalies and has three boys, and he’s married to the team owner, Brienne Norcross.”
“You’re calling in a big favor just for a pediatrician recommendation,” she muses.
“Not a big favor. Our team is like a family. Brienne would expect us to reach out to her.”
Maddie closes the laptop and shifts Grayce to her other shoulder. “It feels like cheating to call the owner of the team for a baby appointment.”
“Would you rather sit in the emergency room?” I ask.
“No way,” she says quickly, and I grin at her.
“Have you had coffee yet?” I ask, noting there’s no cup near her.
She shakes her head. “I don’t like drinking hot liquids around Grayce. You shouldn’t either.”
“Duly noted,” I say, moving to the other side of the island. “But here… give her to me and you can grab a cup. We both had late nights.”