Remember? He sloshed back a quick gulp of cold water.
Robbie coughed again.
Phil had already ruled out enlarged adenoids on the kid. He’d played the old airplane spoon of ice cream flying straight for Robbie’s mouth, but only if his brother promised to open wide. He’d flashed his penlight across the back of his throat, in the guise of making sure the runway was clear, and all had looked normal in the tonsil and adenoid department, even though Phil must have looked a fool in order to find out. To be honest, it was kind of fun. He was getting a taste of parenting, and realized some of it wasn’t so bad.
More muffled coughing drew him back to the guest room. Robbie’s butt was up in the air and his thumb had found its way back to his mouth. Some picture. The nasal cannula delivering a small amount of oxygen he’d tried as an experiment had been removed, giving the boy’s forehead the concentrated air instead of Robbie’s lungs. Phil smiled and shook his head. The stinker really was something. He thought about taking a picture, but he didn’t want to risk waking Robbie up so instead he closed the door all but four inches. Besides, taking a picture would be acting like Jon, and he definitely didn’t want to go down that path.
Robbie coughed again. Phil ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. He needed to do a bronchoscopy on him, document his condition, and get him started on either CPAP or negative pressure ventilation. Right now the bigger question was, when in his busy clinic schedule would he have time to do one?
An idea popped into his mind and wouldn’t let go. Weren’t people supposed to face their demons in order to move on? Maybe one small step at a time. Yeah, that might work. If things went as planned, he’d have a coerced but hopefully willing helper on Tuesday evening. How bad could a sedated kid be to be around?
Maybe he’d finally have proof his brother had tracheobronchomalacia. And if he played his cards right, he’d finagle some extra time with the lovely doctor from the desert.
On Tuesday afternoon, Stephanie sat in her office with a mug of coffee. Staring out the window through the gorgeous lace curtains to the bright blue sky, she contemplated her schedule for the next week—except her mind kept drifting to a certain moment at the beachon Saturday. Okay, so she was out of practice, but was she such a bad kisser that she’d completely turned Phil off?
She’d only caught glimpses of him at the clinic since then, and even though she shouldn’t care what he thought about her or her kissing, it made her feel as insecure as if she were still in high school. As if she’d made a mistake by letting him kiss her. But she’d wanted him to.
She took another sip of coffee, loathing the teenaged insecurity, just as Phil appeared at her door, bringing with him a sudden tingle-fest.
“Got any plans for tonight?” he asked.
Why did her mood brighten instantaneously? She had no intention of telling him she’d planned on a little shopping at the Paseo before she took in a movie, alone.
“A few. Nothing major,” she said, playing it coy.
One look at his great smile and she wanted to get angry for his turning her world sideways. She wanted to hate him for being so damn charming! But all she could muster was a mental, Wow, I’d forgotten how gorgeous you are.
“Would you consider doing me a huge favor?” he asked.
She had nothing better planned, so why not? “Depends.” Heck, he’d been the one avoiding her. Why make it easy?
He scratched his chin. “As in what’s in it for me, depends?”
“It depends on what you want me to do.”
“How about I start by telling you how I’ll repay you?” A single dimple appeared.
Oh, he thought he was a smooth operator, but shewasn’t that easy. No way. “I don’t do bribes, Hansen. No babies, no bribes. Sorry.”
He nodded, the second dimple making itself annoyingly visible. “Okay, I’ll come clean.”
He moved closer and sat
Robbie coughed again.
Phil had already ruled out enlarged adenoids on the kid. He’d played the old airplane spoon of ice cream flying straight for Robbie’s mouth, but only if his brother promised to open wide. He’d flashed his penlight across the back of his throat, in the guise of making sure the runway was clear, and all had looked normal in the tonsil and adenoid department, even though Phil must have looked a fool in order to find out. To be honest, it was kind of fun. He was getting a taste of parenting, and realized some of it wasn’t so bad.
More muffled coughing drew him back to the guest room. Robbie’s butt was up in the air and his thumb had found its way back to his mouth. Some picture. The nasal cannula delivering a small amount of oxygen he’d tried as an experiment had been removed, giving the boy’s forehead the concentrated air instead of Robbie’s lungs. Phil smiled and shook his head. The stinker really was something. He thought about taking a picture, but he didn’t want to risk waking Robbie up so instead he closed the door all but four inches. Besides, taking a picture would be acting like Jon, and he definitely didn’t want to go down that path.
Robbie coughed again. Phil ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. He needed to do a bronchoscopy on him, document his condition, and get him started on either CPAP or negative pressure ventilation. Right now the bigger question was, when in his busy clinic schedule would he have time to do one?
An idea popped into his mind and wouldn’t let go. Weren’t people supposed to face their demons in order to move on? Maybe one small step at a time. Yeah, that might work. If things went as planned, he’d have a coerced but hopefully willing helper on Tuesday evening. How bad could a sedated kid be to be around?
Maybe he’d finally have proof his brother had tracheobronchomalacia. And if he played his cards right, he’d finagle some extra time with the lovely doctor from the desert.
On Tuesday afternoon, Stephanie sat in her office with a mug of coffee. Staring out the window through the gorgeous lace curtains to the bright blue sky, she contemplated her schedule for the next week—except her mind kept drifting to a certain moment at the beachon Saturday. Okay, so she was out of practice, but was she such a bad kisser that she’d completely turned Phil off?
She’d only caught glimpses of him at the clinic since then, and even though she shouldn’t care what he thought about her or her kissing, it made her feel as insecure as if she were still in high school. As if she’d made a mistake by letting him kiss her. But she’d wanted him to.
She took another sip of coffee, loathing the teenaged insecurity, just as Phil appeared at her door, bringing with him a sudden tingle-fest.
“Got any plans for tonight?” he asked.
Why did her mood brighten instantaneously? She had no intention of telling him she’d planned on a little shopping at the Paseo before she took in a movie, alone.
“A few. Nothing major,” she said, playing it coy.
One look at his great smile and she wanted to get angry for his turning her world sideways. She wanted to hate him for being so damn charming! But all she could muster was a mental, Wow, I’d forgotten how gorgeous you are.
“Would you consider doing me a huge favor?” he asked.
She had nothing better planned, so why not? “Depends.” Heck, he’d been the one avoiding her. Why make it easy?
He scratched his chin. “As in what’s in it for me, depends?”
“It depends on what you want me to do.”
“How about I start by telling you how I’ll repay you?” A single dimple appeared.
Oh, he thought he was a smooth operator, but shewasn’t that easy. No way. “I don’t do bribes, Hansen. No babies, no bribes. Sorry.”
He nodded, the second dimple making itself annoyingly visible. “Okay, I’ll come clean.”
He moved closer and sat
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