Page 17 of Stat: Love In Scrubs

A FEW DAYS LATER…

I stood at the bottom of the stairs waiting for Esa to come down. I don’t know what the hell she was doing. But I had been waiting for the last twenty minutes. We still needed to pick up Yara before heading to the ice cream shop.

I walked over and leaned against the railing.

“Esa, it’s time to go, baby girl,” I yelled up the stairs.

“I’m coming, daddy.”

I grabbed the keys to the truck to start it from the inside.

Then waited a few moments longer until the clacking of heels announced my daughter’s arrival.

Esa was dressed in her Mirabel dress, with the purse that matched it, and tiny heels that my sister Dezi insisted she needed.

I placed my hands on my temples and released a breath.

I glanced back at her, and she was now smiling, showing every tooth she had in her mouth.

I didn’t have the heart to take her little self back upstairs to change.

My mom told me countless times to pick my battles wisely with kids.

In this moment, this wasn’t a battle I was interested in picking, especially since we were already running late.

“Do you like my dress, daddy?” she asked, then did a spin.

“You look beautiful?—”

I stopped because there was nothing more to say.

I wanted to ask her what happened to the outfit I laid out for her.

But I knew that wasn’t the route I needed to take if she felt good about what she was wearing.

Who was I to question her? I held out my hand for her to take, and she obliged, skipping as we left the house.

I unlocked the door so she could get into the backseat. I waited to make sure she was all buckled up before getting in the driver’s seat. I grabbed my phone and entered Yara’s address, then called her as we backed out of the driveway.

“Are you outside?” Yara asked.

“Not yet. We had a little outfit, mishap, but we’re in the car. It sounds like you aren’t ready yet, either.”

“I wouldn’t say that, but when you get here, I’ll be ready to walk out the door.”

I groaned. “Women.”

“Daddy, we have to be pretty. We’re going for ice cream!”

“Tell’ em, Esa. We can’t be outside looking any kind of way!” Yara added.

Esa cheered from the back. This woman was corrupting my sweet, innocent child. All I could do was shake my head.

We went back and forth for a few minutes before I finally let her know I was outside.

The moment she stepped outside, all the time she talked about made all the sense in the world.

She was in a pair of strappy heels, light blue jeans with rips in them, and a button-down shirt tied in the front.

Her hair was in loose curls around her shoulders.

I got out of the car and walked around the opposite side of the truck to open her door.

“Thank you, kindly sir,” she said, imitating an English accent.

I laughed and walked around the truck. The moment I stepped inside, Esa and Yara were in a whole conversation about their outfits.

At this point, it was a girl’s club, and I was just their chauffeur.

The entire ride to Sweet Scoops, Yara and Esa tried to sing every song in Encanto.

All I could do was smile and admire the relationship between them.

By the time we made it, I helped both of them out of the car. Yara got a full view of Esa’s outfit.

“My girl! I didn’t know you wore your heels today. I love them, Esa,” Yara said.

Esa’s deep mahogany skin reddened as much as it could as she twirled around.

Walking into Sweet Scoops felt like stepping into a sugar rush.

Vanilla and chocolate hit me first, with that sharp hint of strawberry syrup trailing behind.

The walls were splashed in pastel colors, murals of cones and sprinkles dancing overhead like they were raining right from the ceiling.

Esa gasped so loud that the older couple by the door chuckled as she ran straight to the glass case of flavors.

Yara laughed, leaning closer to me. “She’s about to judge them like she’s on MasterChef .”

She wasn’t wrong. Esa pressed her hands to the glass, eyes darting between tubs of birthday cake swirl, mango sorbet, and the triple fudge she swore she could smell. I just stood there, watching the two of them side by side—my daughter animated and bold, Yara indulging her with patience and joy.

For a moment, it wasn’t about the noise of kids giggling in booths or the jukebox humming old R&B in the corner. It was about this—seeing Esa glow under Yara’s praise and realizing how naturally Yara fit into a space I didn’t think anyone could.

“So what are you thinking of getting, baby girl?” I asked, leaning down to her height.

Esa placed her finger into her cheek, dipping into her dimple as she hummed. Then pressed her finger against the glass to point in the direction of the pink and blue cotton candy flavor.

“The pink and blue one!”

I stood back up and turned to face Yara, who was looking just as hard as Esa had been at the case of different flavors.

“What about you, Boss Lady?” I asked.

She peered over her shoulder with a lift of her brow and a smirk.

“Boss lady? You’ve been calling me that for a minute now. I’ve been meaning to ask why.”

I stuffed my hands into my pockets and shrugged with a smirk. “You don’t think it fits?”

“I guess you can say that. I do be running shit,” she responded with a flick of her hair from her shoulder.

We burst into laughter before she finally went with a Brownie Sundae. I ended up getting the same thing. Yara and Esa went to find a booth in the back for us to sit at, while I waited for our order to be called.

I finally got our ice cream, then made my way to the booth in the corner of the shop. I handed Esa her ice cream cone first. She was already going to war with her two-scoop cone, sprinkles falling everywhere like she was leaving breadcrumbs.

Yara shook her head, laughing as she reached over with a napkin. “Girl, you’re supposed to eat the ice cream, not decorate the table with it.”

Esa giggled, mouth full. “It’s prettier this way.”

I leaned back, watching the two of them bicker like they’d known each other forever. My chest tugged in a way I wasn’t ready for.

When Esa went quiet, focused on licking her cone before it melted, Yara turned to me. “So… we’ve never really talked about her in detail.” Her voice softened. “Your wife.”

For a second, the noise of the shop faded. I rubbed the back of my neck. “Her name was Veronica. She hated chocolate but loved chocolate chip ice cream. Made no sense to me, but she’d swear it wasn’t the same thing.” I laughed under my breath, the sound coming out rough.

“Every Friday, no matter how long the week was, we’d sit with a pint between us. It was her way of making the world slow down.”

Yara’s eyes stayed on me, steady. She didn’t push, didn’t fill the silence with pity. Just let me sit in it. That did something to me I couldn’t name.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, soft but sure. “She sounds… she sounds like she knew how to love.”

“She did,” I admitted, my throat tight. I forced a small smile, glancing at Esa. “Gave me her. Plus a whole lot of memories. That’s more than I ever deserved.”

Yara rested her spoon against her cup, fingers brushing mine on the table, before she pulled back.

“I stayed in something too long once. Thought it was love when really I was holding on to being chosen, even when it hurt. Makes me wonder if I’ll ever really know the difference.”

I wanted to tell her she would—that she already did. But Esa chose that exact moment to lean across the table and smear whipped cream on Yara’s nose. Yara squealed, swatting at her while Esa cackled like it was the funniest thing she’d ever done.

And just like that, the heaviness broke. I sat there, heart full and aching, realizing I wasn’t just watching my daughter connect with Yara. I was watching the possibility of something I thought I’d never have again.

We stayed at the shop for another hour, talking and playing eye spy with Esa, until it was finally time to head out. On the way out to the car, I noticed The Hamptons pushing their stroller, walking hand in hand. The moment they noticed me, a big smile came across their faces.

“Dr. Wilder, it is so good to see you!” Mrs. Hampton spoke first.

I was happy to see she was in a good place, although we had a check-up not long after the birth. I loved to keep tabs on the couple for a bit longer, especially if their births were more difficult.

“Nice to see you two. How are you feeling? Everything alright with you and the baby?” I questioned.

“This one here has been staying on top of it, making sure I don’t overdo it. But we’re in good health. Thanks to you. You kept checking in, and even when you weren’t there, I know you sent in the nurses to keep tabs on us. It felt good to know my voice mattered, even for the small things.”

I waved her off. “That’s my job.”

Mr. Hampton spoke up. “No, you did more than your job, and we can’t thank you enough.”

When I heard things like this, it made my chest tight. I came into this field not to be recognized for doing what I was supposed to do. But, for doing what I needed for women of color. We lost far too many black women to negligence, and if I could help it, it wouldn’t happen around me.

The couple turned to face Yara and Esa, then waved.

“I’m being rude. I immediately went into doctor mode when I saw you. This is — Yara and my baby girl Esa.”

I got stuck because I wanted to shout from the rooftops that she was mine. But I also knew too much too fast would send Yara running in the opposite direction. Not to mention, we hadn’t talked about what we were to each other. I made a mental note to lock this down soon.

“It’s so nice to meet you both! You’re lucky to have him.” Mrs. Hampton added.

I shook my head as Yara smiled.

“Absolutely, and congratulations on your new addition,” Yara told them.

The Hamptons smiled widely.

“Don’t let us hold you up. Please enjoy your afternoon.” I told them.

We said our goodbyes, then made our way to the car. Once we were inside, Esa was practically bouncing off the walls from her sugar overload.

“They were a really nice couple,” Yara said.

“Yeah, they’re good people. I’m glad to see they’re doing so well.”

“Ms. Yara, are you coming home with me and Daddy?” Esa asked from the backseat, shocking us.

I glanced in Yara’s direction. I definitely didn’t want our time to be over, but I also didn’t want to make her feel like she had to come back to the house.

“It’s up to you… no pressure.” I added.

“I would love to, but I still need to stop by my house to grab a bag if you don’t mind me staying over.” She added.

My dick hardened at the thought. She didn’t have to tell me twice. If Esa wasn’t in this truck, I would have hit an illegal U-Turn. The thought alone made me chuckle.