“James,” she warns, finally advancing her pawn. “It’s not my problem you’re a workaholic. It’s Saturday, for Christ’s sake.” “Saturday is an essential day in my workweek.” “What do you do?” Staring at the board, I consider my options in light of her move. “On the weekends? Everything that I can’t get done during weekdays. Professionally? I’m a pediatrician.” When I glance up, Bea’s watching me. “What is it?” “A pediatrician?” she says faintly. “Like babies and kids?” “That is generally what indicates a physician is a pediatrician, yes.” “Smart-ass,” she mutters, returning her focus to a paper
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