Nancy and I walked up to the counter and a small lady looked up at us with a smile. ‘Can I help you?’ She asked in a deep southern accent. Nancy suddenly looked very professional. ‘We are here to see Mr. Taylor. I am Nancy Mason and this.’ She said indicating me with the sweep of her hand, ‘is Ms. Crystal Miller. She will be starting school today.’ The lady behind the counter glanced at me then turned back to Nancy. ‘Of course Mrs. Mason, it will be just a minute.’ She picked up a phone in front of her, waited for a minute, spoke to someone on the other end, then hung up and looked at us again. ‘If you will please follow me,’ She came from behind the desk and led us over to the door marked principal. I watched her knock gently on the door then open it when someone inside said come in. She moved back so Nancy and I could step into the room then closed the door behind us. After the door was closed I turned back in front of me. There were two people already in the room. A man in. It was weird seeing him in a t-shirt and jeans all the time now that he’d graduated from residency and wasn’t working in a hospital anymore.“Hey,” he said softly, giving me a small smile.“Hi,” I replied, coughing to cover the gag from needing to throw up.“Am I really that disgusting to look at?”I rolled my eyes.“No fever, at least,” he murmured. “Was it something you ate?”I shook my head. “Drank,” I croaked.“Too much whiskey?”Fuck, he knew me. He read the look of shame on my expression and laughed.“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he said, gently taking me into his arms. He lifted me off the floor and carried me back to my room.“What if I throw up on you?”“There’s this great invention I have to tell you about, Celie,” he said, pressing his lips to my temple. “It’s called a washing machine.”I punched him in the chest.“Don’t call me that,” I grumbled.“It’s been over a year now and I still don’t have the right to give you a nickname?”“I don’t like nicknames.”“And I don’t like Mondays,.
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