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“Yeah.” I stand up.
“But thanks for inviting me to your lovely and luxurious apartment.” She looks around. “And for letting me sleep here last night, and for dinner and breakfast.”
“Are you going to thank me for the snow, too?”
She purses her lips. “Well, thanks for everything, Dr. Knight.”
So it’s back to Dr. Knight already, is it?
“I’m… I have to go.”
She grabs the purse that she set down on an armchair last night and is about to leave the room with it when her phone rings. She searches for it and pulls it out then holds it against her ear.
“Hello.”
I can’t hear what the caller is saying, but a moment later I see the worry on Ellis’s face.
“What?”
Chapter 9 ~ Keep Out of Reach of Children
Ellis
Snow squishes beneath the soles of my boots as I jump out of the cab. I run up the driveway to the front door. As I ring the doorbell, my eyes rest on the wreath, one made of pinecones coated in golden glitter and red velvet poinsettias. I can still remember the day my mom and I made it.
The door opens. My father, Donald Smithson, gives a wide smile when he sees me.
“Ellis.” He opens his arms.
“Dad.” I crash against his chest and feel his hand in my hair. My stomach bumps into his big, soft one.
I pull away and narrow my eyes at him. “Dad, you aren’t still snacking on leftover candy bars from Halloween, are you?”
“What? No.” He pats his stomach. “Besides, your mother didn’t buy much this year. She’s finally decided to tone down on Halloween.”
I frown. My mom’s always gone all out on Halloween, decorating the whole house, dressing up and buying pounds of candies. The fact that she didn’t makes me feel a little sad. It drives home the fact that she’s slowing down.
“Where’s Mom?”
“In the living room,” my dad answers.
I walk into the living room and find her sitting on the couch, her bandaged foot propped up on a stool.
I let out a sigh. “Mom…”
“What?” She shrugs. “I was putting on the Christmas curtains and I fell off the stool and sprained my ankle. It happens to everyone.”
“No, it doesn’t.” I sit beside her and give her a hug. “I was so worried about you when Dad called.”
“He didn’t have to call you.”
She throws my father a reprimanding glance. He shrugs.
“I’m glad he did,” I say. “I’m your daughter. I have a right to worry about you.”
She snorts because that’s what she used to say – that she was my mother and she had the right to worry about me.
She brushes wisps of hair off my forehead. “What about your internship?”
“Don’t worry, Mom. I was able to swap shifts with someone.” I touch her foot. “How does it feel? Still painful?”
“No. It’s fine. I’m fine.” She pats my arm. “You should really go back to Chicago and tend to other people who are worse off than I am. Anyway, your father is here to take care of me.”
“I know he is.”
Ever since I can remember, he’s been taking good care of Mom and me.
“But…”
My mother squeezes my hand. “We’re fine, Ellis. I have a sprained ankle. It’s not the end of the world.”
Thank goodness for that. If it was worse, if she got seriously hurt, if I lost her, it would be the end of the world for me.
I look into her eyes. “You’re really sending me away? Really? Even though we haven’t seen each other in ages? Now that I’m finally getting a break from stitching gaping wounds and being covered in blood splatter, you want to send me back to the hospital?”
My mom gives me a puzzled look. “But I thought you loved…”
“I do love stitching gaping wounds and being covered in blood splatter,” I tell her. “But I love you more. It’s nice to see you and Dad, to be home.”
The look in her eyes softens and turns sad. In the next moment, they brim with tears.
I place my hands on her arms. “Mom?”
“I’m fine.” She wipes her tears with the back of her hand. “It’s nice to see you, too. I’ve missed you.”
She wraps her arms around me and squeezes me tight.
I smile. “Now, this is more of the welcome I was expecting.”
She pulls away and puts her hands on my shoulders. “But are you sure it’s okay? After all that we did to get you through medical school, I don’t want – ”
“It’s okay, Mom,” I assure her. “I’m still going to be a doctor.”
“A great doctor,” my father adds.
I give him a grateful smile.
My mom pats my shoulder. “Well, if you’re here, I better cook your favorite dish for dinner. Help me up.”
“No.” I stand up. “Dad and I will make it. We know how. Right, Dad?”
He grunts in assent.
Mom frowns. “But…”
“Just rest, Mom.” I plant a kiss on the top of her head. “Dad and I got this.”
