Three Baby Cribs and a Missing Set of Car Keys
The waiting room of Oak Creek Pediatrics was quiet, smelling of floor wax and lavender soap. I sat on the vinyl bench with Soleil on my lap while my mother rocked the double stroller near the reception desk. A poster of a cartoon giraffe lined the wall opposite us.
Dr. Gray, a tall man who had been our family doctor for a decade, walked out from the back corridor holding a yellow folder. He stopped in front of us, checking the top sheet of paper.
“They are all gaining on their curves, Chloe,” Dr. Gray said, looking down over his reading glasses. “Bodhi is up another pound since we saw you last month.”
“And Soleil?” I asked, adjusting her pink knit cap.
“She is doing wonderfully,” he said. “The nursing is going well?”
“Yes,” I said. “We are managing.”
“The cost of formula has gone up again,” my mother murmured from the stroller. “Thirty-six dollars a can now. It is a good thing she is still nursing two of them.”
Dr. Gray nodded slowly, making a note in his folder. “It is a heavy load. Let us get them into exam room three so we can do the physicals.”
