A Million Little Things (Mischief Bay, #3)

“That’s a cheek swab?”

Deirdre shook her head. “He will spit saliva into test tubes at different times during the day.”

There was a yucky visual, Jen thought as her stomach lurched. “Okay,” she said slowly.

Deirdre set Jack’s file on the table, then went to her desk. There she picked up a slim folder and handed it to Jen.

“This will explain the basic toddler package. I suggest we start there. I’ll want to start him on supplements right away.”

Jen stiffened. The folder slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor. “Supplements. What do you mean?”

“He’s low on essential elements.”

“You haven’t even met him. How can you know that?”

Deirdre’s smile was knowing. “Because of where he lives and what he eats. Our food has been robbed of all its nutrients. Your son is in a state of amino acid starvation. Everyone is. With Jack, it’s manifesting in his inability to talk.”

Supplements? “What’s in them?”

“My proprietary blend. I’m afraid I can’t tell you what that is. I hope you’ll understand.”

Jen felt the last bubble of hope pop. She didn’t let her son watch TV or eat sugar. There was no way she was going to give him a bunch of mystery supplements.

Deirdre’s kind expression never changed. “I know this is difficult. You’re confused and afraid. What I’m offering isn’t traditional medicine and what we aren’t used to can be frightening to us. Take the material and read it. When you’re ready, bring Jack to meet me and we’ll get started. In the meantime, I would love to check your hormone level. I’m sure they’re still out of balance from your pregnancy.”

“I just want my son to talk,” she repeated. There had to be an answer somewhere. But not here, she thought as she rose. She grabbed Jack’s file from the coffee table. “How much do I owe you for the consultation?”

“The first visit is always complimentary.” Deirdre rose. “I feel your pain, Jennifer. I can help. When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

If only that information was helpful, Jen thought as she left and made her way back to her car. Once she was behind the wheel, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Hair analysis and saliva tests? Jack wasn’t even two. She couldn’t do that to him or herself. Whatever the answer was, it wasn’t here. Which meant she had to keep looking. She didn’t care how long it took or if no one else thought there was a problem. She wasn’t giving up on her son. She just wished she wasn’t so very alone in her struggle.





Chapter Ten

Zoe pulled into Steven’s driveway. His house was slightly larger than hers, and a little older. She could see the roof was new and the yard had been spruced up. Given his background in construction, he was likely to be handy with the remodeling, she thought as she walked around to the passenger side and opened the door.

Steven stepped out onto his front porch, then came down to help. She allowed herself a second to admire him in jeans and an open shirt over a green T-shirt before motioning to the car.

“Don’t be frightened,” she said with a laugh. “I’m not moving in. I just got a little carried away.”

He studied the small Crock-Pot and the two grocery bags. “I think I can handle this much baggage. I’m a tough guy.”

With that he put his arm around her waist and pulled her close.

She went easily into his embrace. His kiss was sure and delicious. There was no sense of being rushed, of this being a pit stop on the journey to something better. When he released her, she found herself wanting to keep on kissing him. Her nerves were humming, her girl parts happy.

This was nice, she told herself. Being with him, getting to know him. So far there weren’t any complications or games. No secrets. She appreciated that.

“So what did you bring me?” he asked as he picked up the Crock-Pot in one hand and the bags with the other. She collected her handbag and followed him into the house.

“An asiago cheese dip,” she said. “Spicy but one of my favorites. I have crackers, a tortellini salad, cut-up raw veggies and cookies.”

Steven pushed open his front door. “I said I was going to make you dinner.”

“You are. These are just extras.”

The midcentury house had a large living room with a stone fireplace that reached to the ceiling. Big windows opened onto the front yard. She could see the dining room beyond.

“It’s a girl thing,” she told him as they walked down the short hallway to the kitchen. “We have to bring food.”

“I’m not complaining.” He set everything on the counter. “All I have is steaks, green salad and some red wine.”

“So it all works out.”

“It does.”

He put his hand on her waist and drew her to him. She went willingly and leaned up against him. Despite their difference in heights, they fit together nicely. He was lean, yet muscled, and he smelled good.

But instead of kissing her, he stared into her eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”

She flushed. She’d taken extra time deciding on what to wear. She’d settled on a casual dress and flats. Her hair was loose with a slight curl and she was wearing just enough makeup to feel pretty but not so much that she looked like she was trying hard. Nice that he noticed.

He touched her cheek with his fingers, then lightly kissed her lips before stepping back. “What has to go in the refrigerator?”

“The salad. The dip should be plugged in.”

They took care of that, then he poured them each a glass of wine. He gave her a quick tour of the house. The hall bath was torn down to the studs. There was a sketch on the bathroom wall, showing what it would look like when it was finished.

“Do you do all the work yourself?”

“I could, but I don’t have time. To be honest, while I know how to do tile work, I’m not an expert. So I trade for it. I have buddies who come in and help. In return I show up at their place. It works.”