Page 14 of Healed By the Grumpy Elf

"I don't do stickers," I reply automatically. "Or jokes."

She shoots me a gaze and her grin falters for a beat, then comes back. Her lovely brows furrow, and something flickers across her face. Disappointment? Amusement? I can't quite read it.

"Of course not. Silly me." She pushes the door open. "After you, Doctor."

The classroom beyond is a riot of color and sound. Twenty small desks arranged in a semicircle face a larger desk clearly belonging to the teacher. Every inch of wall space is covered by alphabet charts featuring magical creatures instead of mundane objects, children's artwork in various stages of artistic development, educational posters explaining basic concepts with cartoon characters.

A woman with ash-blond hair pulled into a French braid stands at the front of the class. She wears a flowing dress covered in star patterns and gestures animatedly as she speaks to the children seated before her. When the door closes behind us, she looks up, her eyes widening slightly as they land on me.

"Good morning, Dr. Reizenhart." The teacher approaches, extending her hand. "I'm Harriet Grimsby. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to visit us today."

The teacher turns her back to me and faces the children. I can’t help but notice that Maeve Callahan comes to stand just by my side. As she does, it’s like the entire side of my body that is close to her is on fire. I barely manage to resist the urge to take off my tie and fan myself with my clipboard.

This reaction is not normal. What’s with this woman?

"Children!" Nurse Maeve claps her hands, immediately gaining their attention. "Our special guest has arrived! Remember our discussion about manners for visitors?"

Twenty pairs of eyes swivel in my direction, ranging from curious to suspicious to openly hostile. I resist the urge to straighten my tie again.

"Class, please welcome Dr. Reizenhart, Saltford Bay's new physician," Ms. Grimsby says to the children, who respond with a not-quite-synchronized "Good morning, Doctor" that varies in enthusiasm from exuberant to barely audible.

Maeve moves to a child-sized chair near the door, sitting with a grace that somehow makes the ridiculous furniture seem dignified. She catches my eye and offers an encouraging smile that inexplicably causes my heart rate to accelerate.

"Dr. Reizenhart is going to talk to us about the importance of eating healthy food," Ms. Grimsby continues. "Maybe he can answer some of your questions about being a doctor, too."

A small boy with furry ears and sharp canines immediately shoots his hand into the air.

"Is it true you cut people open to fix them?" He blurts out without waiting to be called on.

Before I can respond, a pixie girl with iridescent wings fluttering nervously adds, "Can you shoot magic from your fingers like in the movies?"

"That's not how medicine works," I correct them firmly. "Doctors use scientific medical training to diagnose and treat illnesses. We don't rely on magic, only knowledge."

Their faces fall slightly at this revelation.

"Now, I've prepared a presentation on nutrition and its importance for growing bodies." I retrieve my tablet from my briefcase and connect it to the classroom's projection screen.

The first slide appears, a detailed diagram of the digestive system, complete with Latin terminology for each organ. I hear a soft groan from where Maeve sits, but I proceed as planned.

"Proper nutrition is essential for optimal physiological development and function." I gesture to the diagram. "The digestive process begins in the oral cavity, where mechanical breakdown of food combines with enzymatic activity to—"

"Dr. Reizenhart," Maeve interrupts gently. "Perhaps we could simplify things a bit? For our audience?"

I pause, somewhat annoyed at the interruption. But not annoyed at her attention. I want her to look at me, to speak to me.

To lie under me.

Stop. It.

"Medical accuracy shouldn't be sacrificed for simplification."

"Of course not," she agrees, her tone diplomatic. "But maybe we could use words the children actually understand?"

I glance at my audience. Twenty blank faces stare back at me, confusion obvious in their expressions. Fine. I'll adapt.

"Food gives your body energy," I begin again, skipping ahead several slides to a more basic chart. "Different foods provide different nutrients that help your body grow and stay healthy."

The children's expressions shift from confusion to cautious interest. One small human boy raises his hand.