As Lauren typed a note to document the chemo education she’d just finished, she heard Dr. Patel and Emma converse about Andrew, who was there for a routine visit.

She felt a jolt of anticipation run through her at the sound of his name. She hadn’t seen him for three days because she’d come down with a virus and didn’t want to expose him. He wasn’t happy about it and had let her know via text and through her front door when he brought soup and tea to her house. It had nearly killed her, as she’d slumped against the other side of the door, to not open it and fall into his arms. But his recent lab work had shown a low white blood cell count, and protecting him from whatever bug she had was more important than her desire to touch him.

Today she finally felt back to normal, and her fever was gone. She couldn’t wait to see him, and she tried to act normal as she eavesdropped.

“Kiara, be sure we have a PET scan scheduled for Bishop next week,” Dr. Patel said. “If things have gone as planned, he won’t need more chemo.”

“I’m on it,” Kiara replied, and picked up the phone.

Emma looked around. “Where’s my damn stethoscope?”

Lauren gave her the side-eye. “Around your neck.”

Emma’s hand flew to the curve of her shoulder, and she smiled sheepishly. “Oh. Thanks.”

Dr. Patel and Emma finished reviewing the patient charts and went into their respective exam rooms. Lauren listened while Kiara spoke to radiology and scheduled Andrew’s PET scan, and made a mental note that it would be next Thursday at seven-thirty in the morning.

He’d hate having to be there so early, but at least he wouldn’t have to go all morning without eating. She’d remind him of that when he complained.

Emma was back in the workroom after only ten minutes, reporting that Andrew was doing well. She put her hands on the back of Lauren’s chair, turning Lauren around to face her. Emma looked her right in the eye and said, “He said he had a medication question, and asked if any pharmacists were around. I told him I’d send you in.”

Emma had both hands on the armrests of Lauren’s chair, leaning toward her, her head angled to one side.

Lauren glanced at Kiara, who wasn’t paying them a lick of attention, and back to Emma, who continued to stare at her. Was Emma acting weird, or was she imagining things?

She scooted her chair to the left so she could stand. Dr. Stanford had just gone to see a follow-up patient, and Lauren had finished the note she was working on. “Sure, I’ll see what he needs.”