the skin around it was a little pink. I remembered something I’d half-read once about covering nail problems with polish, how it can trap moisture and make things worse.
“We’re not covering this up until someone looks at it,” I said. “I’m calling the doctor.”
“Mom, it’s prom week. You don’t need to make it a thing.”
“It’s a ten-minute appointment. If it’s nothing, you’ll get a nice manicure with a clear conscience.”
The nurse practitioner on Thursday morning barely needed a minute. She looked at the nail through a
