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Chapter Five – Kevin

My day had gone from bad to worse. First was the early morning horse incident, then I had ran into her at the grocery store, and now I had succeeded in cutting my finger on a knife as I chopped onion for our sloppy joes. I wrapped a towel around my bloody finger and walked into the bathroom. I sorted through the medicine cabinet: no Band-Aids. I rooted through the First Aid kit that I had for Mason: no Band-Aids.

I ran my finger under cold water, but it still continued to bleed once my skin fell in contact with the air. Reluctantly, I put Mason in the car and drove the short distance to the pharmacy I had seen when we went to the grocery store earlier that day.

Mason held on to my uncut hand as I pushed the door to the pharmacy open with my shoulder. The bell rang overhead, announcing our presence.

A beautiful brunette sat at a counter that ran along the front of the pharmacy. She had her back to me, sipping what looked like a Green River float. I hadn’t had one since I was a little older than Mason. I could almost taste the sweet syrupy concoction on my tongue.

“Excuse me?” I said. “Do you know what aisle the Band-Aids are in?”

The brunette turned around; I stifled a groan. God had an awful sense of humor.

It was Addy Selinski, again.

She seemed to find something funny; I saw the corner’s of her mouth lift in a little cock-eyed smile.

“We meet again Mr. Richardson,” she said lightly. “Hi, Mason.”

“Hi!” Mason said. My little songbird was perpetually happy. I almost wished some of that gladness could rub off on me. Yet, at the moment I had other things on my mind. I noticed the blood had completely soaked through the paper towel.

“Band-Aids?” I asked again, a little impatiently.

Addy pointed behind her. “Aisle three.”

Mason skipped along as I found aisle three and with it the Band-Aids. As I picked up a box, I felt a presence behind us. When I turned, I found Addy watching us.

“What?” I asked impatiently. She pointed to my paper towel.

“I don’t know that a Band-Aid’s going to fix your problem, Mr. Richardson. What did you do?”

My eyes narrowed. “Is that your physician’s opinion, Ms. Selinski?”

She laughed. I could tell I was getting under her skin. “No, it’s called common sense. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

I brushed past her, making my way up to the counter. I heard footsteps following behind me.

“You know, my dad could take a look at that. If your finger’s still bleeding that hard, you’re going to need stitches.”

An old man rang me up. As I paid, he nodded at Addy who had sat back down and was calmly sipping her drink.

“She’s right, y’know. I don’t think her or doc have ever steered one of us wrong before.”

I glared at her; she smiled and gave me a little wave with her fingertips.

“Can we go visit Santa?” Mason said, tugging on the hem of my flannel shirt.

With a sigh of frustration, I looked down at Mason. He was smiling up at me adoringly.

“You might need steeches,” he said seriously. I heard Addy laugh into her drink.

I was stuck between a bossy brunette and my adorable cherubic son. Taking my Band-Aids, we headed down the street to the doctor’s office.

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“Good thing you came in Kevin,” Dr. Selinski said as he applied one last stitch to my finger. “That was a pretty deep cut. What were you doing?”

“I was chopping some onions for barbeque,” I replied. I leaned over and looked out into the office. Mason had a crayon in his right hand, busily scribbling in a book. In his left hand he held what looked to be one of the chocolate chip cookies from the grocery store. Addy was sitting right beside him, talking quietly, nibbling her own cookie.

“My Adelaide makes amazing barbeque. She makes it after church every Sunday. Maybe you and your son would like to join us?”

I looked at him surprised. “I’m sorry?”

Dr. Selinski laughed. “I just invited you and your boy for some barbeque tomorrow. I don’t think you’ll be cooking much tonight.”

Looking at him I had one irrational moment: he did remind me of Santa. My respect for those older than me made it hard for me to say no. I looked around the room, my mind trying to think of a polite excuse. I couldn’t think fast enough.

“That sounds nice, sir,” I said quietly. He wrapped some gauze over the stitches and patted my arm.

“Well, if you want to come to church, that starts at 10:00. We always eat at 12:30. Just go down a ways and hook a left at the road. Our house is the first one on the right. Can’t miss it.”

I walked into the office, the doctor trailing behind. Mason looked up with a grin. Chocolate was smeared all over his face.

“Cookies for dinner!” he said happily. I grabbed a Kleenex from the desk and knelt down beside him. With a little spit, I started to clean up his face. He wrinkled up his nose.

“Addy, we’re going to need some more barbeque for tomorrow,” Dr. Selinski said from behind me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her look up at her dad in confusion.

“Oh?”

“Mr. Richardson and Mason will be joining us for lunch,” he said jovially. I saw a look of horror cross her face. I secretly enjoyed it.

“Unless it’s too much of an inconvience,” I said sweetly. The doctor gave a deep belly laugh.

“Not at all,” he said.

Addy remained speechless. I scooped Mason up and put some money on the counter.

“Thanks for fixin’ me up,” I drawled out; my Kentucky accent coming out full force.

I grinned at Addy; she was still looking as if she had been told she had to eat a rat. “See you tomorrow, Ms. Selinski.”

As I fixed Mason a toasted cheese sandwich for dinner, I couldn’t help but drift off in thought. I hadn’t been to church since things between Kristin and I had begun to sour. The thought of some inspirational music and a good sermon had me actually looking forward to something. I put the plate down in front of Mason, and sat across from him, resting my chin in my hands.

“Daddy hurt?” Mason asked. I blinked a little and shook my head.

“Nope, I’m all better,” I said, patting the gauze tenderly.

I only wished stitches could mend my heart as fast as they would my finger.