“It’s me, Mommy,” Emily shouted so loud, Leah pulled the receiver away from her ear. “Fooled you. Daddy let me answer.”
“You got me. How was your day?”
“I got Valentimes from every single person in class. Plus a special one from Daddy. And I made one for you. It’s hanging on the fridge.”
“Well, here’s a special Valentine’s kiss from me.” Leah blew a loud smacking kiss into the phone. “Did you catch it?”
“Yep. Oh, Daddy helped me make a new game—musical chairs. You stack them real high but sometimes you can only use two or one legs and you have to get them just right and you have to watch the ones at the bottom because they shift as the Earth spins, but if you’re real good you can make it all the way to the moon!”
“You know it was nice out today—you could have played outside instead of on your computer.” Leah reminded herself to reinforce that notion with Ian—his idea of “playing” often translated into teaching Emily new computer skills instead of doing what normal six-year-olds called fun. The two of them could happily escape for hours, heads bowed together over a screen, speaking their own language—unintelligible to Leah—creating their own virtual worlds, leaving Leah behind, stranded in reality.
“When will you be home?” Emily asked.
“Not until after you’re fast asleep. Which PJs are you wearing?”
“Purple polka dots! But what time?”
“Work ends at midnight. So, after that, I’m not sure. Why?”
Leah could practically hear Emily’s pout over the phone. “Midnight means tomorrow. So you’ll miss Valentime’s.”
“Tell you what. You be a good girl and go to bed without more than two stories—”
“One for me and one for Huggybear?”
“Exactly. And I’ll get up early, make you a special super-duper Valentine’s Day after breakfast, okay?”
“Yeah! Okay, here’s Dad. Night.”
There was a rattle as she handed the phone to Ian. “Good day?” he asked.
“Patient-wise, fine. Toussaint is on the warpath, though. Wants me to reconsider that job with the Crisis Center.” She took a breath, trying to cleanse her thoughts of Toussaint; last thing she wanted was to ruin her few minutes of family time with talk of her idiot boss.
“It’d mean less night shifts,” Ian reminded her. He taught cyber security at the college and had assumed the brunt of caring for Emily. Including mastering an assortment of skills that Leah could never dream of achieving: coiffing Emily’s hair, playing princess dress up, baking allergen-free cupcakes for school birthdays. Not a day went by without Leah wondering what she’d ever done to deserve him—or their beautiful, brilliant daughter.
“Yeah, but less money.” Despite her student loan debt, money wasn’t the real problem. The Crisis Intervention Center was the part of the ER that dealt with victims, performing forensic evaluations—sexual assault exams, specialized interviews for the police—and then presenting that evidence in court. Right now, all the ER physicians took turns overseeing the Sexual Assault Nurse Examiners and the social workers at the CIC, but Toussaint wanted one person to take over as medical director. Leah was the newest ER attending—she’d only been at Good Sam four years—and had all the requisite qualifications, which some of the older ER physicians hadn’t gotten during their training, so the pressure was on her to take the job. No one wanted it. There was no saving lives in the CIC.
“Wait up for me?” she asked Ian.
“Of course. I want to see your face when you see my surprise.” He hesitated. “Then we need to talk.”
“What’s wrong? Did the furnace break down again?” Their budget was already strained after the last time. Leah glanced up as Nancy rapped on the office door. “Gotta go. Can we talk later? Not tonight, though—you still need to open my present to you,” she said in a seductive tone, glad she’d found the time to order from Victoria’s Secret.
“Right. Yeah.” His tone was flat, distracted.
“What is it? Everything okay?” He was silent for a long moment. Leah rubbed her palm along her thigh, the smooth cotton of her scrubs soothing. She and Ian had been together for eight years, but sometimes—always for no good reason—a sudden wave of anxiety would ambush her, leaving her as nervous as she’d been on their first date. Fearful that with one small slip she could ruin everything, lose him forever. “Are we okay?”
“What? Of course. It’s just work stuff.” His tone brightened. “And you’re right—tonight is for us, you and me. We’ll deal with the rest of the world after.