“I don’t normally allow friends into the examination room,” Dr. Featherburn said. There were three guest chairs in the nicely appointed room, so I knew patients didn’t always come alone. “Your magical health is a very private matter, Miss Brighton.”
I gave her my best hospitality industry smile. “I’m just a little nervous, so I brought along my best friend, Renata Scott. If you prefer a family member, I could ask my cousin, Liberty Brighton, to come instead.”
The doctor’s face was naturally pale but I still thought a bit of color drained out of it. So far, Marli Seagrave was the only one I’d encountered who was utterly unfazed by Liberty. “Oh, I’ve met Liberty,” Dr. Featherburn said. “Lovely woman and so well preserved. There’s no need to call her. If you’re comfortable with Renata, I am, too.” She looked down. “The dogs are another matter.”
“Emotional support animals, both of them. I’m here today to talk about something very difficult and personal. It’s so hard to trust people in Wyldwood when you know your vulnerabilities can be easily exploited.”
She motioned for Ren and me to sit down. “I assure you that everything discussed in this room stays in this room. It’s a professional obligation. Further, there are no records on site. I have the highest security digital system money can buy. Does that help?” I nodded, but my doubts must have still been on display, because she continued, “Miss Brighton, do you think I’d still be practicing after all these years if I disclosed my patients’ ailments? Our town can be quite unforgiving.”
“She makes a good point,” Bixby said, silently. “One indiscretion and she’d end up like Angus.” He made a popping noise in my head. “Bye-bye brain.”
That was all it took to make me hiccup.
Across the room, a sunflower burst through the metal on a tray of medical instruments. Dr. Featherburn turned quickly at the metallic clatter and stiffened slightly. “I see the problem.”
Mr. Bixby chuckled. “I should hope so, lady. Just trying to hurry things along.”
I pinched off his communication channel. He had deliberately baited me into exposing my condition before I was ready. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Featherburn. I’ll replace the tray.”
Turning back, she smiled, or at least her lips moved slightly. Perhaps they were full of filler. “Far worse has happened here, Miss Brighton. May I call you Janelle?”
I nodded. “What else has happened?”
Her blue eyes gleamed. “Trick question? Because I already emphasized patient privacy.”
“Fair enough. So, you see my health challenge. I get anxious and hiccup, and then sunflowers arrive in strange places. I’ve been working really hard to chill out but it’s getting worse instead of better.”
Leaning against the counter, she crossed her arms over her white smock. “With things like this, sometimes the harder you work the more resistant it gets, unfortunately. Giving it attention makes it root.” She blinked a few times. “Please pardon the pun.”
I smiled. “It’s okay. I know there are worse problems to have than sunflower explosions but I have reason to think the hiccups could do worse.”
“Oh, they could, no doubt about it.”
Another spasm produced a sunflower right out of the leatherette-covered examination table. “Can you help, Dr. Featherburn?”
“Of course. This isn’t the first time I’ve encountered the problem and it won’t be the last. Not a month passes without someone needing treatment for inadvertent magical eruptions of one type or another. It’s very common and potentially dangerous. You are far from alone.”
My tension eased slightly. I had so much support now—more than I’d ever had in my life—yet I still felt very much alone. Magic was so isolating. Mr. Bixby stirred impatiently in my lap, no doubt irked by my squeezing off our communication. I didn’t need the reminder to be grateful for him in this lonely world, where I still felt like a… Well, a freak. These hiccups were probably a physical manifestation of that insecurity, which meant Liberty had likely felt the same at one time. There was no one with more confidence now, and I could get there, too.
“Thank you,” I said. “Where do we begin?”
She straightened and patted the examination table, completely ignoring the sunflower. “Hop up and let’s take a look. Or in this case, a feel.” Gesturing over her shoulder, she added, “Please give the dog to your friend.”
The dog protested, with a great deal of thrashing and a show of teeth I hoped only I saw.
“I’m afraid he needs to stay with me, doctor. He can sit down by my feet.”
“All right, but this takes intense focus, Janelle. I’m looking for a minor anomaly in your nervous system. If I’m worried about getting bitten, the work is all the harder.”
“He won’t bite, I promise.” I got onto the table and settled Bixby beside my feet before lying down. “You’re more likely to be knocked over by a sunflower. They get pretty aggressive sometimes.”
The doctor rested her hands on my abdomen. “Good. You just keep thinking about sunflowers. It will help me source the problem.”
Ren spoke up for the first time. “What do you do when you find it, doctor? I’m very new to magic and its hazards.”
Dr. Featherburn was irked by the question. She didn’t want to be bothered by a nosy newbie. Her eyes met mine for a second, perhaps wondering if I could see the annoyance on her face. There was just enough movement in her features for me to know, but I couldn’t pick it up through her touch. Her mind was well barricaded. Perhaps a good mental cloaking spell came with a magical medical degree.
“When I find it, I’ll try to release it. It’s not unlike a muscle spasm, and sometimes they’ll just let go. Like a child caught with his hand in a cookie jar.”
“And if that doesn’t work?” Ren pressed.
Her fingers moved over my midriff. “Then I’ll erase it with a simple spell.”
“Erase it?” I asked. “It’s that simple?”
“Yes.” The doctor’s hands shifted and probed gently. “And that complex.”
Ren still wasn’t satisfied. “And what if your spell doesn’t take?”
Dr. Featherburn lifted her hands. “It will take. Once in a very long while, a persistent case requires a second visit. I highly doubt that will happen with Janelle. A problem of this magnitude will be easy to source and target.”
Of this magnitude? A couple of sunflowers in an examination room weren’t that extreme and she didn’t know about the other instances. Surely, she’d seen worse “explosions.”
Ren subsided and the doctor applied her hands to my abdomen again. It didn’t take long before she said, “Ah, there it is. Give me a moment.”
Energy poured into my diaphragm that felt far different from Sinda’s. In fact, it made me queasy and a retching sound slipped out.
Mr. Bixby took advantage of my incapacitation to break free of being on hold. “Hey, you stole my hairball sound.”
