Read Online Family Practice by Marisa Carroll - Free Book Online Page A

with your mother, that is.”
    “How nice of you,” Ginger said pleasantly, although her expression was troubled. “But please don’t feel obligated to entertain Brandon.”
    “Oh, no,” Callie assured her. “My mother loves to show off her animals. All the chickens have names, and the goats, too. And she’d be happy to demonstrate to Brandon...and Becca, too, if she’s interested...how she spins the fiber. I’m just not sure how soon I’ll have a free day. There is so much to do at the clinic.”
    “Weird,” Becca muttered. “Who names chickens?”
    “My mother, I guess. She’s a little odd that way.”
    “How can you name something you’re going to eat?”
    “She says it’s a sign of respect and affection to a noble breed of bird,” Callie said with a grin. Her dad snorted but didn’t raise his eyes from his plate.
    “It’s creepy,” Becca said and put her fork down with a clatter. “But I suppose I might be interested in how she does that spinning thing.” She didn’t sound overly excited by the prospect of a trip to the farm, but Callie took even her lukewarm interest as a hopeful sign.
    “We’ll plan a trip as soon as I can work it into my schedule.”
    Becca shrugged. “Okay, but I said maybe, remember. I’m finished eating, Mom. Can I leave the table?”
    “ May I leave the table,” Brandon said in a superior tone. “ Can I leave the table is bad English, right, Mom?”
    “ May I leave the table,” Becca shot back with a look that boded ill for her twin when they were alone.
    “Don’t you want dessert?” Ginger asked.
    “No. I’m stuffed.” Becca folded her thin arms across her chest. “I don’t want anything sweet. I’ll get an apple or a banana later. Fruit is better for you than a bunch of stuff made with refined sugar.”
    “Mac’s desserts are very good.”
    “We’d all be better off with the fruit,” she said stubbornly. “You’re a doctor, Callie. I’m right, aren’t I?”
    “I approve of eating fruit,” Callie said diplomatically. “But I love Mac’s desserts. As long as you don’t have them at every meal—”
    The art of diplomacy was wasted on Becca. “I still just want an apple.”
    Ginger broke the awkward little silence. “Then, yes, you may leave the table.”
    Becca left the kitchen without another word.
    “Sorry, I apologize for my daughter’s bad manners,” Ginger said, color staining her cheeks.
    “She’s practicing to be a teenager a couple of years earlier than normal,” J.R. said with a rueful shake of his head.
    “It’s nothing,” Callie said.
    “What is for dessert?” Brandon asked above the clatter of a tray full of dirty dishes being loaded into the dishwasher behind them.
    “Whatever’s on the menu. You know that.” Ginger began fanning herself with her hand. “It’s so warm in here.”
    “Why don’t I commandeer us a table on the porch?” J.R. suggested, taking Ginger’s barely touched plate and stacking it on his own. “We can have orange sherbet and chocolate cookies out there. Mac baked a batch today when I told her Callie was coming for supper. It was always Callie’s favorite dessert when she was the twins’ age.”
    “It’s still pretty high on my list.”
    Callie was tired and would have preferred to go back to the cottage to be alone for a while, but this was more or less her official welcome-home dinner, so she had to do her best to make it as much of a real family occasion as she could. In the old days, she and J.R. would have taken their cookies up to the cupola room at the top of the building and eaten them while they “spied” on the tourists and townspeople unsuspectingly going about their business on the street below. Now that wasn’t an option. The cupola room had been off-limits since a big storm a few years earlier had damaged the floor. And anyway, it wasn’t just her and her dad anymore. The realization was bittersweet.
    “Great, sherbet and cookies all around, then. I’ll ask