Author's Note: Hi, everyone! Here's another chapter! I hope you enjoy it! :D

As he walks into the red-bricked elementary school, hands interlocked within each of his daughters', it occurs to him just how precious and fleeting this all is. It feels like last week he was still struggling to learn how to change a diaper, and now, the girls are somehow already in the first grade, learning how to read and write sentences. While they may be holding onto his hands like he's their lifeline for now, he knows that before long, they'll be letting go—too big to be so attached to him.

He is led down a long, colorful hallway covered in children's arts and crafts projects. Somewhere among these sketches of blue skies and bright yellow suns are his girls' drawings. He must make a mental note to remember these moments—these days when the girls are still shorter than waist height and are full of all of the energy and life of children who are still amazed by the wondrous new world around them. And for a helpless second, he wishes they could stay this small and happy forever.

When did he become such a sentimental old man? If Francis could hear his thoughts right now, he'd most certainly start to laugh.

Speaking of Francis, his husband calls him before he has the chance to enter the girls' classroom, finally awake after sleeping in for a good chunk of the morning. He sounds a little gruff and nasally, still nursing his headache and perpetually stuffed nose.

"So, you decided to attend Career Day after all?" Francis goads.

"I was coerced."

"Ahh, that makes more sense," he chuckles, and it sounds like he's starting to develop a cough, so it's a good thing he stayed home. "Did you bring the cookies I baked?"

"Yes, I have them in the plastic container you left on the kitchen counter."

"Good. Merci."

"Did you take a dose of ibuprofen and more of that decongestant?"

"I will in a minute, but do not worry about me, mon amour. Just enjoy your day with the children."

Arthur frowns although he knows Francis can't see him. While he gets along swimmingly with the twins, he isn't as accepting of other children. "I shall make a half-hearted effort."

"Don't you mean whole-hearted?"

"No."

"Arthur, please, don't cause any trouble."

His frown quickly turns into a dry smile. "I can see your faith in me leaves much to be desired. What trouble could I possibly cause?"

"You know what I mean. I'm a part of the PTA. I have a reputation to uphold, so please do not smear the family name."

He fails to suppress his snort of amusement. "I won't besmirch your pristine image just yet…I have to go. I'll check in with you later. Remember—bed rest and fluids. Call if your fever spikes or your symptoms worsen."

"I will be fine. Good luck in there. Do not frighten the poor children, all right?"

"Frighten them? What are you insinuating?"

"Nothing. Never mind. Goodbye—take good care of the girls."

Francis hangs up, and Arthur is left to glare at his phone in silence.

"Dad! Come on!" Amelia suddenly exclaims, tugging on his arm as she skips toward one of the many classroom doors. At this rate, she's going to pull his arm out of its socket.

He's not sure what his specific expectations were when he agreed to do this, but before he can properly mentally prepare, he finds himself standing before twenty shrill and incredibly loud children as well as a handful of parents.

Clearly, the girls exaggerated when they claimed all of the parents would be attending. There are only eight of them—himself included.

He greets Mrs. Lauren, the girls' teacher, by shaking her hand. He has met her before—back when Madeline was struggling to socialize with the other children, and he, Francis, and Mrs. Lauren had to come up with ways to get her to warm up to her peers.

He explains that he'll be substituting for Francis today because his husband has fallen ill—but, never fear, the cookies have been salvaged and delivered as promised.

"We're happy to have you, Dr. Kirkland. I think this'll be a great opportunity to teach the children about the importance of taking care of one's health. Feel free to join the other parents at the back of the room," Mrs. Lauren kindly says, taking the container of cookies that he's been carrying in his messenger bag. "We'll give these out during lunch. Give Francis my thanks."

Amelia and Madeline have already found their seats, and they appear to be quite excited that he's here with them because they keep glancing over at him to see what he's doing. At one point, Amelia gestures her hand toward him and proudly tells one of her classmates, "That's my dad over there!"

Not sure whether he should be flattered or flustered, Arthur settles for something in between and takes a seat beside the other parents, briefly introducing himself to them. He's going to have to mingle, isn't he? What is he supposed to talk about? The girls? Work? How his head hurts because of all of the squeals and uproarious talking going on between the children?

He folds his hands in his lap and tries to act natural despite how uncomfortable he is.

Finally, Mrs. Lauren quiets the class and gives a short lecture to the students about how they can grow up to be anyone they want to be—possibly even the next president or Bill Gates (except Arthur has serious doubts about whether the children even know who Bill Gates is).

And then, one by one, parents start offering themselves up as tribute at the head of the class. They are expected to give a short introduction about themselves and then spend some time explaining what their careers are, what their jobs entail, and what their favorite part of their work is.

The first parent to present is a firefighter. He was clever enough to bring props and allows the children to pass his hard hat and fireproof gloves around the classroom. Naturally, most of the students are enamored and regard him as a superhero. They "ooh" and "ahh" each time he tells a story about how he had to bravely burst into a burning building to save a cat, dog, or baby.

"That's so cool!"

"I wanna be a firefighter!"

"Don't you ever get scared?"

"You get to live in the firehouse?"

His fifteen-minute speech ends up being a big hit, and everyone applauds him with fervor. Even Arthur finds himself being impressed and a little intimidated by just how charismatic the man is.

And then, Arthur gets the worst possible news.

"Dr. Kirkland, why don't you come up next?" Mrs. Lauren decides, and Arthur wants to sink in his chair and disappear. Now he remembers why he hated school as a child.

How is he supposed to top the fireman?

The twins look at him with wide hopeful eyes, and so, he gathers his messenger bag of medical supplies and tools and carefully ambles his way up to the front of the room, feeling dozens of gazes upon him.

He clears his throat awkwardly, straightens his posture, and plasters a hesitant smile onto his face.

"Good morning," he begins, palms sweating.

"Good morning, Dad!" Amelia cheerfully shouts from her desk.

Mrs. Lauren and the parents laugh, falling for Amelia's cuteness—and who can blame them? Arthur falls for it, too, because his heart grows a little lighter, and his smile isn't quite as strained thanks to her enthusiasm.

"Thank you, poppet…As some of you may know, I'm Amelia and Madeline's father. I work in internal medicine—" he stops himself. These children won't understand any medical jargon or complicated titles. He's going to have to keep this simple. "I'm a doctor. I'm sure you've all been to a doctor before."

One of the boys in the class raises his hand, looking anxious and itching to ask a question.

Arthur raises a brow at him. He thought questions were supposed to be reserved for the end, but there's no harm in answering them now. "Yes, lad?"

"Do you give shots?"

Well, this is a trap. He needs to be careful with how he replies. It was wise of him not to wear his white coat, as that would have made this a hundred times worse.

"Uhh…Yes, but they're necessary to keep healthy and—"

The class cuts him off by giving a unified squawk and shriek of disapproval. Only Amelia and Madeline stay silent, petrified by their classmates' reactions. One boy even bursts into tears.

"I hate doctors!"

"I got a shot once and it hurt!"

"Doctors are scary!"

"Booooo!"

"Doctors suck!"

Mrs. Lauren steps in with a stern expression on her face and scolds everyone by saying, "You're all being very disrespectful to our guest! Dr. Kirkland took time out of his day to speak to us. I want you all to apologize to him!"

Now he knows what Francis meant about scaring the children and causing trouble. He should have stayed home on the couch.

The class mumbles a "sorry," but the damage has been done, and Arthur wants nothing more but to sit back down before he can make a fool of himself further.

"Please, continue, Dr. Kirkland. I apologize," Mrs. Lauren says, sending him a remorseful smile.

Does he have to continue? That one boy to his left is still crying, eyes red and puffy.

"Why don't you tell us why going to see a doctor regularly is important?" Mrs. Lauren encourages, trying to lighten the abysmal mood of the room.

He looks over at Madeline and Amelia and pretends he's only talking to them, as that makes this somewhat easier.

"Seeing your doctor often for check-ups and vaccinations is a way to make sure you're growing properly and that you're staying healthy," he explains weakly. "While no one enjoys receiving vaccines, they can prevent you from contracting illnesses like chicken pox, measles, rubella, hepatitis, and more."

Now another child raises her hand—a girl to the right.

"My mom says vaccines are bad," she says.

He takes a deep breath and forces another smile. "Well, some parents worry that vaccines cause autism, but there isn't any evidence to prove this. Most doctors agree that it is better and safer to get your vaccinations than to not get them at all."

"And no one should be scared of seeing their doctor, right?" Mrs. Lauren supplies helpfully.

"Right," he says, even though he's sure ninety percent of the class hates him and has stopped listening.

He was going to do a little demonstration to teach the children about how stethoscopes and otoscopes work as well as how these tools can help diagnose illness in various parts of the body, but now he sees he shouldn't bother. He's not going to be able to redeem himself now that he has failed this miserably.

So instead, he talks about diet and why they should eat their fruits and vegetables for a good five minutes. He even lamely jokes about the whole "apple a day keeps the doctor away" thing except it falls flat. He hurriedly adds that his favorite part of his job is helping to relieve patients' suffering (he doesn't mention how he himself feels as though he's suffering in this very moment), and then he concludes his speech before the students can ask any further questions.

It was disastrous, to say the least.

As Mrs. Lauren calls up the next parent, he allows himself a sigh and pointedly keeps his eyes away from the girls, feeling bad for disappointing them. They must be incredibly embarrassed. This wouldn't have happened if Francis were here instead.

Arthur is the antonym of charming and charismatic, and now, he must pay the price for it.

He is eventually saved from his self-wallowing by the lunch bell.

Apparently, the parents are being treated to catered sandwiches, salads, and soups in the cafeteria, and they're supposed to return after recess to do some activities with the children. Arthur isn't sure what these "activities" are supposed to be, but he's sure he'll just end up ruining the day for everyone once more, regardless of what will be asked of him.

There's a table set aside for them in the cafeteria, but Arthur can't even bear the thought of sitting there because the only available seat when he arrives with his sandwich and cup of tea is the chair right next to the fireman who helped put his presentation to shame.

Don't get him wrong–he's neither bitter nor jealous...All right, so maybe he's a tad bitter...

It doesn't help when Ms. Lauren hands out the cookies Francis baked and they're immediately devoured with gusto. He can hear Amelia having a raucous discussion with some of her classmates and telling them, "My papa made these! He's the best chef and baker ever!"

So even when Francis isn't around, he still manages to be more likable than Arthur.

Arthur doesn't find that surprising.

He's able to protect what's left of his pride when he turns his head around and sees Madeline sitting with a few other girls at another table across from her sister. She doesn't appear to be talking to any of the girls, choosing instead to keep her gaze directed at her apple slices and peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

The seat to her right is empty, and so, Arthur goes over to her and somehow musters a gentle smile despite how awful he's feeling about everything that's happened.

"Hello, love. May I sit here?" he asks.

Madeline nods and continues picking at her lunch. "Hi, Dad."

He sets his cup of tea down and finally sits, sighing a little when he feels his joints ache. "I hope you're enjoying the day despite how terrible my presentation was."

"It wasn't terrible."

"Oh, thank you, poppet, but there's no need to tell any comforting lies."

Madeline frowns at him and rubs her arm sheepishly. "You try to help people, not hurt them, and your job is really, really hard. I think you were good, Dad."

He tucks a strand of stray hair behind Madeline's ear and says, "I didn't upset you or embarrass you in front of your friends?"

Madeline looks up at him thoughtfully and shakes her head firmly. "No...I'm happy you came."

"Thank you. It's a relief to hear that...But why aren't you eating your lunch, then? Is there something wrong with it? Would you prefer my sandwich?" he offers, ready to trade if need be.

"No...It makes me sad that you're sad."

"I'm not sad," Arthur insists. Frustrated with himself, perhaps, but not sad.

Perhaps he deserves this. It's what he gets for trying to remedy too many things at once. First with Mrs. Brown, then with putting Dorothy through veterinary treatment when he could have just let her go peacefully, and now, he has spoiled Career Day.

"Dad?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"I think you and Papa are the best," Madeline murmurs, seeming less troubled now. Somehow, she always knows what to say, and she doesn't have to say much to get her point across. It's a quality Arthur admires in her.

He thanks her, pecks the top of her head with a kiss, and they finish their lunches together. Madeline tells him how she has learned how maple syrup is made because she watched a program about it on TV the other day, and Arthur happily listens, spirit bolstered after her little pep-talk.

When the children go out into the schoolyard for recess, the parents have the option of waiting in the teacher's lounge or helping to chaperone the students, and though he will later regret his choice, Arthur decides some fresh air will help clear his mind, so he follows Mrs. Lauren and the class of first graders outside.

He sees Amelia and Madeline start up a game of hopscotch with some other girls while the rest of the students either play on the school's jungle gym or run about to let out some of their pent-up energy from sitting in their desks all morning.

And then, as is customary to him by now, all hell breaks loose.

The very same boy who asked him about shots during his talk somehow loses his grip on the monkey bars, falls, and hits his head against one of the metal support beams with a sharp thunk.

The effect is instantaneous. The children who witness the fall gasp and scream while the injured boy lets out a howling wail that can undoubtedly be heard by the other parents who are inside of the school building.

Arthur takes an instinctual step forward to help, but there's a split second of hesitation in his reaction. Maybe he should let Mrs. Lauren handle this.

He doesn't have to intervene…

But who is he kidding? He can't just stand here idly and gape at the scene. It's his moral obligation to do something, even if it's not legally his responsibility.

So, he rushes over to the boy and gets to him before Mrs. Lauren does. He waves a hand at the children who are gathered too close and orders, "Don't crowd around him. Everyone, step back."

His tone must be firm enough to sound formidable because the children listen and clear some space around their fallen classmate. Arthur notices, however, that Amelia and Madeline are now standing right beside him, watching intently to see what he's going to do.

Arthur crouches down and puts one hand on the boy's shoulder, intending to soothe him, while his other hand carefully runs over the back of his head to survey the damage. He's going to have an awful welt tomorrow.

Arthur feels a spot of stickiness under his fingertips but remains completely calm. If he betrays any concern or emotion, he'll frighten the boy even more.

"It's all right, lad. Don't be upset," he says as the boy sobs and trembles on the rubber matting of the schoolyard. "What's your name, love?"

"P-Patrick," the boy hiccups, swiping hand over his eyes.

"Is it, now? My brother's name is Patrick," Arthur murmurs as he cautiously coaxes the boy's head toward him, and that's when he sees the wound hiding underneath tufts of chestnut brown hair. Patrick must have hit one of the screws of the metal beams and gave himself a rather deep laceration. He's going to need a CT scan and some sutures.

Mrs. Lauren joins him and does her best to calm the boy while Arthur continues checking him over. A laceration like this can easily be closed and shouldn't pose a major problem. He's more concerned about a concussion or possible hemorrhaging.

"Let's sit you up," Arthur suggests to Patrick, supporting his back as he rises. Then, he looks into the boy's gaze and scans his pupils—they appear normal for now.

"It hurts a lot," Patrick whines, trying to touch the wound.

Arthur carefully pulls his hand away and says, "I know. That was quite the fall, but you're going to be just fine."

From behind him, Amelia shouts, "Yeah, Patrick, don't worry! My dad'll make sure you're okay!"

Ahh, so now she's on his side again? Just like that, he has gone from a negative approval rating to an acceptable one.

"Do you know your days of the week?" he asks, moving on with his assessment. While he waits for an answer, he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, folds it into a square, and holds it against the boy's wound, applying a bit of pressure.

"Yeah, I'm not a baby!" Patrick says defensively in the midst of his crying.

"Then could you tell me what day it is?"

"Monday."

"That's right. You're a clever boy," Arthur commends before making another request, "And can you recite the alphabet?"

"A, B, C, D, E, F, G…"

Arthur nods and lets the boy know he doesn't have to continue. Then, he turns to Mrs. Lauren and instructs, "You'll need to contact his guardian."

"Right, of course. I'll find out from the office—" she says, trailing off as they finally get Patrick to stand on his feet. Clearly, she's frazzled just like her class of students. "I'll take him to the nurse's office. Could you watch the children for a few minutes?"

He doesn't have a choice, does he?

He nods and lets Mrs. Lauren take Patrick under her wing, but not before showing her how to keep a steady amount of pressure on the boy's still bleeding injury.

He liked that handkerchief…Oh, well.

He watches Patrick and Mrs. Lauren go back into the school building, and when he turns his attention back to the remainder of the class, it occurs to him that the students have been gawking at him in horror all of this time.

"Patrick cracked his head open!" one girl shouts, and everyone else gets riled up as a result.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Arthur scolds them, trying to maintain civil order. "He's going to be perfectly fine with the proper medical attention."

"His brain is gonna leak outta his head!" someone else exclaims.

Where do these children get these twisted ideas?

"That's not going to happen," he assures, but the children don't seem convinced.

Suddenly, he feels small arms wrap around his waist, and when he lowers his gaze, he realizes that it's Madeline.

"Thank you," she whispers, squeezing him tightly.

"What for, poppet?"

"For helping."

"Oh, you don't need to thank me for that. It's my job."

Madeline ignores him and simply thanks him again, blue eyes wide with gratitude.

Maybe he still has a few fans left after all.

Or just one. And one is enough.

Despite the fiasco at recess, the day's events continue as planned after Patrick gets picked up by his mother and taken to an urgent care clinic. Fortunately, at no point does his brain leak out of his head.

As for everyone else, it's time for the students to draw where they see themselves in twenty years and who they want to be when they grow up. The parents get to watch and mingle some more, but frankly, Arthur is all mingled out for the day. He's ready to return to his congested, raspy-voiced husband, as Francis is probably missing his presence by now and will be whining about how he was left alone for so long in his desperate time of need, even though he insisted he'd be all right on his own earlier today.

When the children are finished with their drawings, they're asked to present their work. As expected, most of the children are aspiring to be policemen, firefighters, teachers, professional athletes, etc. No one says they want to be a doctor though, which is a little disheartening. One boy bravely says he wants to be a nurse like his uncle, but that's all in terms of vocations in medicine.

Amelia says she wants to be an astronaut, which Arthur already knows, but then again, his daughter has a habit of changing who she wants to be every month, as children often do.

But then, Madeline surprises him for the umpteenth time that day. She proudly announces that she wants to grow up to be like her papa and her dad. She wants to cook and bake excellent food like Francis, but she also wants to help the sick, and so, perhaps she will be a master chef and a physician. Who says she can't be both?

Arthur entertains the idea and feels a warm smile cross his face as Madeline explains how her papa makes perfect croissants and how her dad can cure just about any kind of illness (which is very generous of her to say because he certainly does not have all of the answers).

"I wanna make lots of pancakes and crepes, so no one ever goes hungry, and I wanna make people all better again when they don't feel well."

He can't wait to tell Francis all about this, and how maybe, Madeline will follow in his footsteps and go into medicine (being a chef can be her side job or hobby), but her main career path can be in pulmonology or immunology or any other respectable –ology. They can start teaching her some basic anatomy now—like Francis always says, it's never too early to consider the girls' educations, and maybe Madeline will be the best in her field and conduct additional research that'll win her a Nobel Prize.

"But if she just wants to make crepes all day, we can let her do that, too," Francis will say later, a cheeky grin on his lips.

And Arthur will shove a spoonful of cough syrup into his mouth and tell him to stop crushing his dreams.

Two days after Career Day, Francis and Dorothy finally make full recoveries. Dorothy goes back to eating and drinking normally, and Francis is back to nagging Arthur about what a bad husband he is because he forgot to wish the Frenchman's second cousin twice removed a happy birthday.

"You fixed her!" Amelia cheers, taking the Dorothy out of her cage and nestling her between her hands when Arthur informs her of the good news.

"Yes, she seems to be feeling much better now. I gave her a yogurt drop a few minutes ago, so don't overfeed her."

Amelia dashes off with the hamster so she can show her to Madeline, and Arthur lets out a long sigh of relief, glad that one crisis has been dealt with.

"You did the right thing," Francis murmurs, coming up from behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist. "I was wrong and you were right. You can brag now."

Arthur rolls his eyes and pulls away from him, a dry smile dancing on his lips. "I won't brag as long as you vow to never make me volunteer at the girls' school for anything ever again."

Francis snorts with laughter and nods his head. "Okay, we have a deal."

He's back to the humdrum work at the office, writing out prescriptions and examining colds, rashes, and infections. This is as exciting as his day ever gets. Part of him misses working in the emergency department, as his patients there had a more diverse range of illnesses and problems. That said, transitioning from a hospital to a private practice was a necessary evil, especially since the girls are still so young and need both him and Francis around. And besides, someone needs to diagnose atopic dermatitis and explain to patients why they can't take antibiotics to treat their colds.

That afternoon, however, is when the highlight of his day takes place.

Mrs. Brown returns to the office, and she looks chipper as opposed to when Arthur last saw her. She even does him the courtesy of shaking his hand and asks him how he's doing as he enters the exam room, and frankly, he's a bit taken aback.

"How are the children doing? Almost done with the school year?" she continues, all sunshine and smiles.

He nods and stays professional. "They're well, thank you, and yes, they'll be on summer break in a few weeks."

"Any vacation plans yet?"

"Well, the girls want to go to Disney World."

"Oh, that sounds like fun."

Arthur chuckles wearily. "It sounds like a headache waiting to happen, but we'll see…How have you been feeling? Did you try the new medication?"

To his absolute surprise, Mrs. Brown nods, "I did, and it's been helping."

She's not lying because when he listens to her lungs, they sound better than they did last time, so she really must be taking her medication.

"That's wonderful to hear."

"Do you know what did it?" she asks him.

Well, it certainly couldn't have been due to his frequent lectures because those never seemed to make a difference.

"It was my grandson…The other day he said to me, 'Grandma, you have to live to be 112 because that's how old the oldest person in the world is,' and I told him I would try my best…That boy needs me…I have to be around for him. Have you ever felt that way?"

"Yes…I understand."

"I've cut down on smoking, too. I don't know how much that'll help me now, but I'm trying..."

Arthur nods reassuringly and offers her a small smile. "It'll make a difference, and you should start to see some significant improvements."

"Thank you for being patient with me. I know I gave you a hard time the other day."

"Oh, it's no trouble."

He finishes examining her, gets her to take another breathing test, and lets her know she has nothing to worry about—she's going to be around for her grandson for a long time.

"Have a good day at school, girls, and listen to Mrs. Lauren…Amelia! Not so fast! You forgot your lunch."

Amelia comes running back to the car, takes her rainbow unicorn lunch box from him, and shouts, "Thank you, Daddy!" before swiveling around and intending to sprint off toward her class once more.

"Wait! You forgot one more thing, young lady."

Amelia stops in her tracks, looks between him and Madeline a few times in confusion, and asks, "What?"

"Is there anything you'd like to say to me?" Arthur hints, crossing his arms.

"OH!" Amelia exclaims. "Yeah! Bye! See ya later!"

Arthur slumps his shoulders and frowns. That's all he gets? No hug? No I love you? All that time spent with Francis to make sure the girls were always well-fed, well-dressed, well-loved, and well taken care of, and this is what he gets in return? A see ya later?

Fortunately, at least Madeline seems to understand what he's getting at, and she gives him a quick hug followed by an "I love you" before he can sulk too much.

Of course, Amelia gets jealous that her sister is getting all of the attention from him and gives him a hug after all before adding, "I love you more than Maddie does."

"No, you don't," Madeline says with a frown.

"Yeah, I do. Besides, Dad loves me more."

"I love you both," Arthur sighs, attempting to break up the argument. He gives each of the girls a peck on their heads, ties the laces of Madeline's left shoe because they have come undone, and then finally sends them both off. He waits until they are both safely standing with the rest of their class before turning around and getting back into the car.

And as he's getting into the driver's seat, he hears someone shout, "Hi, Amelia and Maddie's dad!"

He raises his brows, looks around, and sees that the boy he helped treat—Patrick—is waving at him from a distance.

He musters a smile, waves back, and watches the boy blend in with a group of his classmates and get caught up in a conversation. It's good to see he's feeling all right now.

Arthur pulls away from the school and starts driving home, still thinking of the girls, Francis, Patrick, Dorothy, and Mrs. Brown and her grandson and how she's going to have to live to be 112.

And he is happy he gets to do what he does.