Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“Any way that I could get that blood and go next door to get Odin to do it?” I asked curiously.
I was sure that I could get him to agree.
Plus, if I didn’t get it to her today, I might not be able to get her in until next week due to state testing at her school.
And I hated the thought of seeing her go downhill in any way, even minutely.
The receptionist looked out the window and paused. “You think Odin—Dr. Mayer—will agree to that?”
I knew he would.
“Yes,” I said. “Want me to run over there and ask?”
She blinked. “Yeah. Sure.”
I caught Wendy’s hand and headed next door, hoping that there weren’t any dead bodies out on the morgue table for Wendy to see.
When I got inside it was to see Odin half-dressed, yanking a wet t-shirt off over his head.
He paused and looked over his shoulder. “You knock?”
I shrugged. “Sometimes. But you’re the one who left the door open.”
“Oh, you’re big, Mr. Odin,” Wendy pointed out. “What’s that scar on your chest?”
I studied said scar and wondered about it myself.
“Nothing of importance,” he said as he reached for a t-shirt hanging on a hook by his desk.
He shrugged it on, then gestured at me. “You give me a minute to change my clothes?”
“Sure,” I said as I turned Wendy around and we went to watch out the front door. “Wendy, don’t look back.”
Wendy sighed. “I mean, really? It’s not like he doesn’t have anything that Grandpa doesn’t have. I walked in on him once while he was in the shower, and he shouted at me to leave. Uncle Harvey told me that I was a pest. Did you know that Uncle Harvey and Grandpa both have a birthmark on their butt cheeks?”
I sighed. “Why would you know anything about Uncle Harvey?”
“He told me,” she said. “I have one on my neck right here. And Uncle Harvey told me at least I didn’t have one on my ass like him.”
I sighed, unable to come up with anything else to say.
“Done,” Odin said.
We both turned around and Wendy cooed. “Oh, that shirt looks soft. Can I touch it?”
Odin grunted. “No.”
Wendy shrugged.
“What are you doing here?” Odin asked me.
I gestured next door. “I have a favor to ask. Dr. Pendelton is delivering a baby, and Wendy needs her transfusion today. She has school testing all the rest of the week, which means that she won’t be able to come in until next week sometime. That is if Dr. Pendelton can fit her in.”
Did I sound as desperate as I felt?
I didn’t know why this was actively giving me internal hives, but just the thought of her being a single day late was making me twitchy.
Odin grunted. “Okay. Give me five minutes. Sit her at my desk.”
I sat her at his desk and tried to keep her from touching everything there.
She snatched a pencil up before I could stop her and gasped. “It’s pink!”
I smothered a smile before saying, “I’m sure it was free.”
She yanked open one of his desk drawers and squealed. “There’s more pink pencils!”
Okay, maybe it wasn’t given to him after all.
“And they’re Ticonderoga.” She ran a finger through them before I could snatch her hand out and close the drawer. “He has good taste.”
I snorted and gently removed her hand. “We don’t go through people’s things, remember?”
“You let me go through yours,” she pointed out.
“I don’t let you go through mine,” I corrected her. “I tell you not to, and you do it anyway.”
“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to,” she mimicked.
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.
That was my mother coming out in her. I think she said that particular phrase at least three times a day.
“Second Pratt I’ve had in my chair this month,” Odin mused as he came back into the room carrying blood, tubing, gloves, and everything else he would need to get her started.
“How long is this going to take, Mr. Odin?”
“How long does it usually take?” Odin asked.
“A couple of hours,” she sighed. “Do I have to wear one of those monitors?”
Odin’s lips twitched. “Yep.”
“Fine,” she grumbled.
He got the transfusion started, and Wendy never made a peep at being pricked with a needle.
She hadn’t since she was a small kid.
That’s what you get with constantly ill children, though. They’re not affected by much.
Odin’s hands were adept for being so dang large.
“Don’t they say that doctors aren’t generally as good at finding veins as nurses?” I asked curiously.
“Generally, yes,” he mused. “I start a lot, though.”
He didn’t say why or how, and I didn’t push.
I did, however, wonder what kind of practice he got when he was working with dead people.
He hadn’t had any trouble starting mine the other day…
“I think you did splendidly,” Wendy mused. “This chair is huge. Can I have some of your pink Ticonderoga pencils?”
My eye twitched.