“Whatever you want, baby,” I tell her, as I take the basket out of her hands and drop it on the floor. My hand hooks around the back of her neck and I take her mouth with a yearning I’ve needed all day.
I was secretly hoping she’d come down to the stables but knew it would be a catch twenty-two. Her hands go to my waist and she pulls my shirt out of my jeans, her hands finding my skin. Something she does when she wants to get closer to me. Fuck, I love this woman.
27
Peyton
My weekend was done and over before I knew it. It was one of the best ones yet. Though it went way too fast, the way Levi devoured our dinner and even went for seconds, it made me realize I needed to cook dinner more often, so after work today, I’m hitting the grocery store.
I have so many of my mother’s recipes, there are almost two books full. One is just desserts, too.
Work has been amazing. It’s tiring at moments, but so worth it to help out so many members of our community.
“Hey, Peyton, Mrs. Smith and her daughter Emily, are ready for you,” Sue tells me, as I finish dictating my notes on the last patient I saw.
“Okay, I’ll be there in just a minute. Thank you,” I respond and finish what I was doing then head into Emily’s room.
Working with children is my all-time favorite part of working here. It makes me think of what I’ll end up doing when Levi and I get married and have children. If I’m going to want to be home more with them, I know for sure the clinic won’t be able to work around my schedule.
That means I’ll have to see if the pediatrician’s office is looking for a P.A.
I am walking into see what’s going on with Emily and come to an abrupt halt. She’s wheezing so bad, her chest is practically shaking.
“Hi, Mrs. Smith and Emily, I’m Peyton. Let’s see if we can get you back to breathing normally. How long has she been like this?” I ask, as I take my stethoscope off and immediately listen to her breathing. I can hear the raspiness, she definitely has all of the signs of an asthma attack.
“It got really bad around three o’clock this morning. We would have gone to the hospital, but our insurance doesn’t cover all that much,” she says, as she wrings her hands together. This is what makes my heart ache, knowing her parents had to wait to get affordable help.
“Alright, here’s what I’m going to do. We’ll get her on a nebulizer now, get you all set up with one to take home, start her on some antibiotics, steroids, and also an inhaler to keep and take home. Hopefully this is just induced by the upper respiratory infection she has going on. But if you notice it doesn’t get better, we’ll have to set you up with a specialist,” I can see the concern in her eyes at the word specialist.
“Thank you, I hope it’s induced. Our insurance, gosh. It’s really not the greatest, I’m just thankful you’re able to help her,” she says.
“Sue will be right in to start you on the nebulizer, Emily, and then I’ll be back to check in on you,” I say, with a warm smile.
Sue already has the nebulizer ready and was waiting for what dosage I wanted to start Emily on, and then she heads into the room.
Dr. Harlow comes down the hall as I lean back on the wall taking a breather.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yes, just hate the red tape that seems to be everywhere these days,” I respond.
“Don’t I know it, been around many years and it’s the worst it’s ever been here lately,” he grumbles.
“My sentiments exactly,” we both stand there in silence, him probably grousing about something in his head, and me thinking about what my next step can be to help out our young children.
28
Levi
I can see the toll working at the clinic is taking on Peyton. It’s been three weeks, and nothing is changing. If she doesn’t do something soon, I’ll be stepping in.
We’re sitting on the couch, her head is in my lap, and she’s sleeping. It’s the one good thing that hasn’t made it worse.
She’s been picking up extra shifts as flu season settles in, but after this week, she’s off for four days straight and I already have a plan formulating in my head. One that I hope she’ll like.
“Peyton, baby,” I murmur, slowly waking her up while massaging her neck.
“I’m up,” she responds, drowsily. I chuckle, she may say that, but I know I’ll be carrying her to our bed. I move her so I can stand up.
When I stand up and look down on her, her eyes are slowly opening. I move my hands under her knees and back, lifting her up. She sinks further into me. I’m thankful she took a shower when she got home, Peyton would probably fall asleep standing up if not.