like you do."
"No, you don't," Laila said with a shake of her head. "Bubbe, you're incorrigible."
But now she was smiling and had even relaxed a bit against Hal's side. Laila propped her feet on the table, toying with Esther's boot clad feet playfully. Laila gave the old lady such a look of fondness that, for one instant, Hal was jealous.
"Aunt Laila! David! Come quick!" Noah ran so fast toward him that he skidded on one of the throw rugs on the polished wood floor.
"Whoa, slow down there, buckaroo." Laila caught the boy before he could careen into the furniture. "What's up?"
"It's Henry!" Noah's lip trembled, but at the same time his eyes were alight with excitement. "He was trying to play ping-pong with the big kids and he got hurt! You have to come see!"
Esther leaped to her feet with an agility admirable in an eighty-year-old woman. "Where are they now? Did you tell your mom and dad?"
Noah nodded, full of self-importance at being the messenger. "They said I should go get the doctor."
Hal's heart sank to his ankles and he stifled a groan. He was the doctor. Still, how bad could a ping-pong injury be?
Esther had already set off down the hall with Noah tugging at her hand. Hal followed Laila, who moved with a swift, purposeful strides. Her protectiveness of her nieces and nephews was an intriguing look into her character. He'd meant it when he said he thought she'd be a good mother.
"Hurry up!" Noah called back to them before ducking through the doorway to the games lounge. His voice held unmistakable glee. "There's lots of blood!"
Hal stopped dead in the hallway. Laila went a few more steps before seeing he was no longer with her. She came back, frowning.
"Come on," she said. "I want to make sure Henry's okay."
"Blood," Hal said thickly. "Uh--Laila. Er."
"Yes?" She said impatiently, her attention on the cries echoing from just a few feet down the hall.
"Blood." Just saying the word made his stomach churn. "Laila, I can't stand blood."
He saw the memory of their very first meeting register in her eyes. "But they think you're a doctor."
"I'm not a doctor." As if he had to remind her.
The cries grew louder. Laila's consternation grew more visible. It was obvious to him that merely hearing Henry's distress was hurting her.
She could have thrown the fact she was paying him in his face, but she didn't. At this point, Hal doubted if she even remembered that fact. She was too concerned about Henry.
He shook himself mentally and physically. He could do this. He would do this. For Laila.
"Here I come to the rescue," he said, and went into the room.
It's only a little blood, he told himself over and over as they found Henry sobbing on his mother's lap. Gouts and gouts of blood spurting from the little boy's nose. It had already soaked through someone's thick handkerchief. Hal could see fear in Ruth's eyes, even as she tried to calm her squirming, wailing son.
"David! What should we do?" Frank asked. He hovered over his wife and son, holding Noah's hand.
"It's a bloody nose, so put ice on it," Esther said.
One of the teenage cousins ran for ice. Hal closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. "Better let me take a look," he said.
Henry stopped crying when he saw Hal. "It hurted my dose," he said in a quavery voice. "And it's buh--buh--bleeding!"
At that admission, Henry started crying again. Ruth, perhaps thinking she was helping, took the bloody cloth away. Hal started seeing gray across the line of his vision.
"Thank God there's a doctor here," said Aunt Yetta, who'd earlier joined them in the hot tub.
Obese Uncle Ira snorted. "He's a proctologist, Yetta. You want he should stick his finger up--"
"Ira!" Yetta scolded.
Ira shrugged and took the bucket of ice from the returning teenager. "Here, doctor."
Hal took the ice and wrapped it in a fresh washcloth someone handed him. He pressed it to the little boy's nose, trying hard not to see the red flowers blooming on the fresh white cloth. One. He counted in his mind. Two. Three--oh, God. He had to get out of here and fast.
"Hold that there until the bleeding stops," he said in as doctorly a voice as he could. "Tilt his head back and keep the pressure on. And if you'll all excuse me."
Hal stood and left the room. He wasn't running, not quite, but he walked with long, steady strides. Thankfully, the games lounge had