Until Autumn

We watch her for a while longer, and I sip on my milkshake, taking complete advantage of my day off. I don’t get many of these, but I woke up early yesterday and completed this week’s assignment so I could have today to myself. Most of the time, when I’m home, I’m flipping through textbooks or searching medical videos and trying to give myself a step up in my career. I’m not going to lie, I might have found some of Dr. Mayson’s medical videos that he’s been involved with, and I may have watched them ten times over just to hear his intoxicatingly deep voice.

Today is just for me, and it’s taken me until right now to realize just how much I needed it. I’ve missed not having to worry about anything and just focus on relaxing and having fun. I should probably do this more often.

I keep my gaze on the play equipment, watching as the children play and enjoy themself and I can’t help but wonder what a child of my own would look like. Will she have my brunette waves with Dr. Mayson’s sky-blue eyes?

Fuck. Don’t go there, Autumn. That’s just asking for trouble.

I try to shake the intrusive thoughts from my head when a massive dog cuts through the park, running full ball ahead in its excitement to play at the park. Some kids scream in horror while others laugh and squeal in excitement.

My eyes instantly flick toward Aalia, making sure that she’s down with the situation, but the intense wild excitement in her eyes is telling me that she’s currently picturing herself riding the beast like a horse.

A family of beautiful blonde little girls chase after the dog, running into the park and instantly going their separate ways while their exhausted mother tries to keep count of them as she struggles with her stroller.

The woman collapses into a chair on the other side of the park, and while she’s far away, I can recognize her anyway. I’ll never forget her face. November Mayson—the mother of the first baby I ever delivered.

A warm smile pulls at my lips. I checked on her a few times while she stayed in the hospital, recovering from the delivery, but after that, I never saw her again and I’ve been wondering how she was doing. Seeing her now, it’s clear that parenthood suits her. Her girls run around with massive smiles on their faces while she sorts out her newborn baby.

I lean over to KC and nudge her elbow before nodding toward November. “See that woman over there?”

KC glances her way and instantly turns up her nose, “Yeah, the one with the tribe of kids, the newborn, the beast dog, and no coffee spilled down her shirt, who somehow makes me look like a shitty mom who doesn’t have her crap together?”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” I laugh. “She’s the elevator woman I was telling you about.”

Her brows shoot up. “So, you mean to tell me that on top of all that perfection, she also has an incredibly attractive husband?”

“She sure does.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah …”

Minutes tick by and I consider going over there to say hi but fear being intrusive on her family time, so I sit where I am and leave the poor woman be. Besides, she already has her hands full with four children and a dog running around.

I watch as Aalia runs from the slide across the park to the swings but as she goes, I catch sight of one of November’s girls, climbing to the top of the play pirate ship. I smile to myself, but just as I go to glance back at Aalia, the little girl moves her foot and slips straight off the equipment.

A terrified scream is torn out of her as she falls and I suck in a breath, feeling as though I’m watching her in slow motion. I throw myself to my feet, just as November does. The scream is like a beacon for the dog who stops what he’s doing and instantly starts bolting toward the little girl.

She crashes to the ground with a hard thud and the snap of a bone is heard right around the park.

I run.

The dog makes it to the girl in no time as November comes running in next and instantly starts panicking, leaving her newborn in her stroller across the park while her other two daughters start crying in fear for their sister.

“JUNE,” November screams as her sweet little girl cries in agony.

I come crashing into the sand beside November, reaching her just in time to pull her hands away. “No, don’t pick her up yet,” I call out, only just managing to save the situation from getting worse.

I’m just about to reach out to the little girl when the massive dog steps over her and instantly starts growling in my face, forcing me back as he protects his family.