Forrest looked at me.
“Go check her,” I ordered.
“Why you sendin’ him?” Cam asked.
“Because he’s a doctor—was a doctor.”
“No shit?”
“And why isn’t he one anymore?” Casper asked.
“Because in his last year of residency, he tore his meniscus,” I replied, holding his stare. “And got a taste for narcotics.”
“Clean now?” Casper asked.
“As a whistle.”
“Got a soft spot for disgraced doctors, do ya?” he said, fighting a grin.
I stood without replying and headed upstairs. I wasn’t going down that road with him. My father didn’t have any bearing on why Forrest was a part of the team. It hadn’t even been my decision when we’d been placed together the first time. The fact that both Forrest and my father had gone all the way through medical school and ended up with no letters after their names was the only similarity between the two.
“You have any other symptoms?” Forrest was asking Cec as I stepped into the bedroom.
“No, I just feel like shit,” she replied, shifting a little, like she couldn’t get comfortable.
“What about your tit?” I asked, making everyone look in my direction. “Didn’t you say it was hurting?”
“Yeah,” Cecilia said. “It’s just sore.”
“Is it hot to the touch?” Farrah asked. “Do you think you have a clog?”
“A what?” Cecilia asked in confusion.
“A clogged milk duct.”
They went back and forth discussing Cecilia’s breasts until Forrest interrupted.
“If you’ve got a fever and you feel like shit, it’s probably more than a clogged duct,” he said. “Sounds like mastitis.”
“Shit,” Farrah muttered.
“What?” Cecilia looked between them. “What’s that?”
“It’s an infection. You’ll need antibiotics,” Forrest replied.
“We need to call your—” Farrah stopped mid-sentence. “We call your doctor, there’s a damn record.”
“I can get ’em,” Forrest said.
“I’m not taking some random pill that you pull out of your pocket,” Cecilia argued. “I’m not an idiot and I’m nursing.”
“He knows what he’s doing, Cec,” I said. I looked at Forrest. “Do your thing, man.”
He nodded at me before leaving the room.
“He’s a doctor,” I told Cecilia and Farrah.
“I thought he worked with you,” Cecilia said.
“He does. Long story.”
She didn’t reply, just reached out her arm and beckoned for me to give her the baby.
“You need to try and nurse her on the side that’s hurting,” Farrah advised. “And Jesus, you need to name that child already. I’m sick of calling her the baby and her. So, what’s it gonna be?”
“I was thinking Olive, after Liv. I mean, her name was Lavinia, but she never liked that name. She always went by Liv,” Cecilia said, looking down at the baby. She looked back at her mom. “Even if her parents were complete assholes,” she cleared her throat and swallowed hard. “Even if Liv wasn’t who I thought she was—she still loved their baby more than anything and she was so excited to meet her.”
“I think Olive is the perfect name,” Farrah said calmly. “Olive Cecilia has a nice ring to it.”
“You don’t give up, do you?” Cecilia said with a watery chuckle.
“Never,” Farrah whispered, leaning down to kiss the side of Cecilia’s head.
“Olive,” I said, trying the name out. “I dig it.”
“Oh, well, if you like it,” Farrah mocked jokingly.
“Hey, now,” I replied. “Me and Olive are best friends.”
“Well, your best friend needs to eat and it’s going to be a complete shit show in here while Cecilia tries to take care of this clogged duct, so out you go.”
She ushered me out of the room and shut the door in my face.
* * *
Hours later, Cecilia wasn’t feeling much better, but she came down to have dinner with the rest of us. We’d spent all day researching the Free America Militia, and I had to admit, it was nice to sit around the table and not talk about the shit we’d found.
It turned out that FAM had people all over California, but their main compound was just south of the Oregon border. And compound was the correct word for it. According to the land sale records, they owned a little less than a hundred acres in the middle of nowhere where entire families just seemed to disappear. Literally. The men popped up eventually in the form of traffic tickets and gun sales, but the women and kids were never heard from again.
From what we could uncover, once they moved onto the compound, they never left again. It made my skin crawl.
“You have any luck with those antibiotics?” Farrah asked Forrest as we dished up the spaghetti Eli’d made.
“Meetin’ up with my supplier tonight,” Forrest replied.
“Good friend to have,” Casper said.
“Know him from way back,” Forrest said with a nod. “Good people.”
“Have you heard anything from the guys at your house?” Cecilia asked as I sat down beside her at the table.
“They haven’t seen anything,” I replied, putting one of my pieces of garlic bread on her plate. “Eat.”
“I have my own food.”