He got to mopping up and thought it was a mark of how awful she felt that Devaney didn’t try to argue with him. Didn’t in fact say a single word.
Once the floor was spic and span—and his custodian Henry would be going over it tonight again anyhow—he lowered the lights and went over to where Devaney was lying pale and still, her pulse beating visibly in her throat. He shouldn’t touch her again, but he couldn’t stop himself from resting his hand on her forehead and running it over her hair.
“I’m going to go check on the boys, I’ll be right back.”
“’Kay.”
Oof. That one word was a punch to his gut. Devaney Bishop had never struck him as a little—he’d thought maybe she had a bit of a subby streak but nothing more. But the way she whimpered and curled up, leaned toward his touch, her small voice, well—
Fuck, Southerland, you cannot think about that right now. You’ve got a job to do.
Reluctantly he pulled his hand away and headed out to the waiting room where Logan was slouched and playing on his console and Chase was thumbing through a book.
“Hey, guys. Your mom’s really not feeling well. Are you guys feeling alright?”
“Yeah,” Chase volunteered, looking up at him with those blue eyes so like his mom’s.
Logan rolled his eyes and looked disgusted. “Yeah, we’re fine. This happens like every month. She says she has migraines.”
Not “she has migraines,” but “shesaysshe has migraines.” Bet Logan got that from his father.
Eric knew better, but he ground his back teeth together nonetheless. Sometimes you just had to get the frustration out.
“Alright. We’ll figure something out. If you’re hungry, Flora can bring you back to the staff lounge. There are some snacks and drinks back there while you wait. Sound good?”
Flora stepped out from behind the desk and as she passed, he asked her, “Can you stay for a bit while we get this sorted out? Don’t have a hot date tonight, do you?”
Flora smiled and shook her head. “Only with a microwave dinner and Netflix, and those will wait. Don’t worry, I got this.”
“Thanks, you’re the best.”
* * *
She had to get out of here. This was mortifying.
Of course Doctor Southerland had been nice, but he was always nice. He was probably going to go home or over to his girlfriend’s or maybe he was going out on a date tonight, and he’d tell the woman about how this frumpy mom had puked all over his office and that’s why he was late. He’d probably pick up flowers for her too because Eric Southerland seemed like the kind of man who would bring a woman flowers.
Devaney removed the washcloth from her eyes and sat up slowly. And then clapped a hand over her mouth because goddamn her stomach was out to get her today. Ugh, it was never fun, but really? Here? Now?
She would be okay. She’d have to be okay. She’d get the boys out of here, hopefully make it through the takeout line at Talkin’ ’Bout Tacos, tell Logan to make sure both he and Chase got their homework done and then she could go lie down and hope this got better before the full-on migraine struck.
At least the lights were dimmed and she didn’t feel like knives were gouging out her eyeballs while she grabbed her bag. But before she could make it out the door, Doctor Southerland was letting himself in.
“Hey, what’re you doing up?”
His stern voice almost made her knees buckle. Carter had yelled at her often, but Doctor Southerland’s firm tone didn’t bear any resemblance to that. No, this made her want to walk into his arms and have him hold her, rub her back, reassure her everything was going to be fine and that he would take care of her.
Dream on, Devaney. He was a young, attractive, single doctor, and she was a rundown single mom. What on earth would he want with her?
“I, um, I’ve got to go. I’m sure the boys are starving and I promised them tacos and they need to get their homework done before they go to bed, and—”
“My receptionist is getting them some snacks right now,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder and stroking his thumb across the crest like he was trying to comfort her. “They can start their homework in the staff lounge and Flora said she could hang out with them for a while.”
Oh, god. Now she was inconveniencing Doctor Southerland’sstafftoo? Ugh, she was the worst. She put her face in her hands and tried to blink back tears, even knowing her headache would get worse with the pressure.
“Logan said you get migraines?”
She nodded, still hiding her face. Why was he being so kind? It didn’t feel like he was watching the clock, tapping his foot.