Emery [bxb]

154

"Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis," Madeline and I sound out in unison, laughing.

"What's that mean, Brandon?" Emery frowns, walking into the room and going to the sink to wash his hands. I blink at him wordlessly for a beat, momentarily distracted by flashbacks of our childhood, how he'd turn his cherubic face up to me and ask me about damn near everything we encountered. What's this? What's that? How's that work? What does that mean, Brandon?

"It's just silicosis." Framing his head in my hands, I kiss his forehead.

"Oh." He smiles.

"How's the baby?"

It's week fourteen, and Emery explains to everyone in the room that his baby's covered in peach-like hairs called lanugo for warmth.

When he turns away, I whistle a catcall after him. "Like your cheeks, G!"

Emery turns around and winks briefly before continuing on his way.

He leaves and I resume writing orders for the nurses with a smile.