Genevieve
Copyright© 2023 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 7
Daddy is worse ... I’m worried. This is the first time he’s been sick since I was old enough to know what sick is.
“Dr Grost’s Office. This is Andrea. How can I help?”
“Genevieve Austin here, Andrea. Daddy is sick ... Does Dr Grost have a moment?”
“For you? Always. One moment.”
Of course he had time ... the Austins owned the land every home, business, governmental building, every road, school and sidewalk was built on ... but more important than that ... Gen was the inventor of those cool little race cars ... and Andrea wanted one ... even if she had to build the damn thing. Dr Grost was building one ... I could beat him in a race ... how cool was that?
There was that blank silent crackle that always bespoke ‘On Hold.’ Someone ought to do something about that ... recorded music, maybe. She filed that idea in her memory ... when I have time. One of the problems of being ten, almost eleven, and having a brain that never forgets ... it never forgets ... useful in school but tedious in real life.
“Good morning, Gen.”
“Doctor.”
Andrea was a good physicians assistant. She passed on what she was told.
“David is sick?”
“A week now.”
“Symptons?”
“Fever, cough ... with production, dead eyes, general all-over weakness, tender skin ... sleeps at the drop of a hat ... mid conversation and he’s somewhere else.” I said, “Oh ... and his rememberer doesn’t.”
“Distracted?”
“Asleep.”
“Will you be home about 5?”
“I was going to the Eighty.” I pouted. “I’ll be back about 4:30. The staff ... you know. I need to get going.”
“Idea for a new car?
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