Cynda and the City Doctor - Theodora Taylor Page 0,26

I answered the note out loud. Only to have the moment ruined when my stomach grumbled.

As it turned out, waiting so long to look in the fridge had been a mistake. It was lunchtime, and if what I thought was inside was inside…

I opened the carton…dammit, this boy was going for my jugular. It was pork fried rice and gravy sure enough.

“I’m taking some pancakes out to Dr. Prince as a thank you for helping me with my homework,” A says, when we’re done eating breakfast, pulling me away from the memory.

I open my mouth to say that’s not a good idea, but A’s out the door before I can stop him. So I end up watching him carry pancakes to the man I loathe through the kitchen window.

Apparently by “take him some pancakes,” A meant straight-up have breakfast with him. He sets two plates of flapjacks down on either side of the picnic table and knocks on the door.

Rhys appears almost immediately, still dressed in what I remember him calling “leisurewear” in a particularly adorable English way.

I can’t hear what they’re saying, but Rhys looks at the pancakes then straight at me.

Zap!

Three years. It’s been three years. When will it stop feeling like I’m being hit with a bolt of electricity every time our eyes connect?

Anyway, I flip him off. It’s important for him to know that these pancakes mean nothing and that I still hate him for firing me, even after I begged for my job in the street.

“Did you just flip off Dr. Prince?”

I turn around to find E standing behind me. Her mouth is hanging open in shock.

“No!” I immediately lie. “I was flipping off a mosquito. I hate those things.”

E squints. “It’s April.”

“I know, right? It’s like they come out earlier and earlier every year. And now we’ve got to worry about murder hornets too?”

E squints at me even harder for a few seconds. But then she breaks and says, “Whatever. I don’t care. How about if I promise to wear a mask and gloves?”

It takes me a moment to realize we’re back on the subject of whether she can go over to Janine’s house. Seriously, if she applies this persistence to her career, she might make it as an actress after all.

“I mean you can promise,” I answer. “But you know and I know that would be a lie. Hard as you’re fighting, I’m assuming you won’t be the only one going to ‘study’ at Janine’s house.”

I know I’m on the right track when E’s eyes widen at my guess.

“Girl, bye.” I pointedly push past her to go wash the dishes in the kitchen. I check my phone before I turn on the water though.

Still no return call from Mavis. And I’ve got a bad feeling in my stomach.

I try calling again. Straight to voicemail. And the machine picks up at the house again. Yeah, she said she was planning to go on that Guadalajara-to-Guadalajara trip of hers. And her promise to stick around until the next set of Saturday rounds hadn’t exactly been a solemn vow. In fact, the governor’s stay-at-home order announcement yesterday might have inspired her to scoot on out ASAP. That’s most likely why she isn’t picking up.

But why would she have left for a months’ long trip without changing her outgoing voicemail?

“A mask and gloves,” I say out loud. “That’s not a bad idea.”

“So I can go?” E asks.

She’s still lurking around in that aggravating way of a teenager who’s been told no. I’ve found out the hard way over the last three years that teens are perfectly okay with badgering you until you give them the answer they want to hear.

“Nope, you’re still not going,” I answer her, heading toward the front closet to pull down my Dad’s old medical bag.

I used it for the Saturday rounds all the way up until Rhys canned me. And I stowed it away, figuring I wouldn’t need it again since I planned to return to hospital work in Pittsburgh.

But job or no job, I’m still a registered nurse. Getting fired doesn’t change that. And thank goodness, there’s a couple of dad’s old surgical masks at the bottom of the bag, along with a small box of vinyl gloves.

“Where are you going?” E demands when I walk out the kitchen door toward my Honda Civic, which I keep parked around back.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” I call over my shoulder to E as I walk past A and Rhys. They’re