“What?”
I rubbed my eyes for a second. “What’s happened to you?”
“What do you mean?”
It was out of my mouth before I thought about it. “You’ve changed. Dr. Grouch has disappeared.”
“Dr. Grouch? I’m not a grouch.”
I slapped a hand over my mouth and sputtered with laughter.
“You think I’m grouchy?”
Pulling my hand away, I announced, “Paging Dr. Grouch. Dr. Grouch to the heart center,” in a formal tone. Then I bent over at the waist and laughed even harder at my little joke.
When my chortling subsided, I realized he wasn’t laughing. In fact, he hadn’t found any of this as funny as I had. I straightened back up to see he was more than a little irritated.
“I’m happy you find what I deal with on a daily basis as comical. And that when I have to tell a family their loved one has died, and I’m a little grouchy as you put it, you can find it easy to make fun of. Why don’t you try putting yourself in someone else’s shoes for a change, Marin? Maybe you wouldn’t be so quick to ridicule.”
“I wasn’t ridiculing you.”
“Sure sounded like it to me.”
“And I wasn’t making light of what you do. I was referring to the way you usually act around your kids.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes it’s a little difficult to shed what happens at work the very minute I walk through the door. Damn, you’re a ball buster. Has anyone ever told you that?”
I backed up a step because someone had. My ex-boyfriend, Damien. He used to tell me that a lot but I always thought he was a pussy. He used to whine all the time. Like even when he got something as minor as a paper cut. One time he stubbed his big toe on the table leg and for a minute I thought he was going to cry. That’s being a pussy, isn’t it? Maybe I should’ve felt more sorry for him, but I told him to man up and quit acting like a baby. Now I felt kind of bad about it.
“I apologize for being disrespectful of your profession. I shouldn’t have said that.”
He sliced his head up and down once, and then turned around and left the room. I watched his retreat with increasing regret and guilt over what transpired. If only he hadn’t made that remark about his work. I knew it bothered him sometimes. But that didn’t erase my belief he didn’t spend enough time with his kids. They watched the door, especially Kinsley, every day for him to walk in. And when he did, some days he’d just briefly acknowledge them and take off for his stupid office. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. Things were going so well, with him being nice and I had to go and ruin it.
Since it was getting late, I decided to go to bed. I could watch TV on my iPad if I wanted or maybe I’d read instead. Or I could work on the article I’d started about what happened to me in my dream job, but words that used to flow seemed to have dried up on this topic. Maybe the timing wasn’t right. There were a few books I had that, that I’d been waiting to dig into so that should keep me plenty occupied. And I could also write in my journal. When I got upstairs, I checked on Kinsley, and she was sound asleep, so I moved on to Aaron’s room. But I stopped when I saw the doctor standing over his crib. I was getting ready to move on, but I heard him mumbling something. He was too far away for me to understand what he was staying, so I went to my room. He always acted so strange around that boy. I couldn’t figure it out. No use in asking him why either. Like he’d tell me anyway. In most cases, he wasn’t very forthcoming about things.
In the morning, the kids were cranky. Everyone was in a bad mood. I had a headache, Aaron was fussy, and Kinsley wasn’t eating her breakfast. She was always agreeable about most things and it was unusual for her not to eat.
“I don’t want this,” she whined as I placed the fruit in front of her. When I set her scrambled egg and toast down, which she always gobbled up, she said the same thing.
I felt her forehead and it was warm. “Hmm, do you feel okay?”
She shrugged. She wasn’t a sickly girl, and in the months I’d been here, she hadn’t been sick a day.
“Let’s ask your daddy.” I figured that would be the best thing.
I ran downstairs to where he was working out, something I never did, and holy Jesus. The man was running on the treadmill without a shirt, sweat streaming down him, and he was ripped and … hot. How did I not know this? I’d been living under the same roof with him for how long now? Four months? And I had no idea this body existed under those scrubs he sometimes wore, or that stiff shirt and tie he wore to work. Christ almighty, why did I ever come down here? Now I’d have this image burned into my brain forever.
He pulled out his earbuds and huffed, “Yeah?”
“I, uh, erm,” and I licked my bone-dry lips.
“What is it, Marin?” Impatience tinged his voice.
He waited for me to say something. Anything.
“Yeah. Uh, Kinsley. Yeah, Kinsley is, um, acting hot … I mean weird.”
“Which is it? Hot or weird?” He was obviously annoyed with me.
“Both. I was wondering if you could take a look at hot. I mean her.” Pull it together, you idiot. My hungry eyes roamed over his delicious torso. Wait! He was an old man. How could he look this good? Men my age rarely looked like this. I was so consumed with lusty thoughts of him, I didn’t realize he’d gotten off the treadmill and passed me.
“You going to just stand there or are you coming?”
Jeez, get your head out of your ass, Marin.
“Right, yeah, coming.” He was halfway up the stairs, so I jogged up behind him, ogling his ass, and was huffing by the time I got to the kitchen.
He gave me one of those looks and said, “You should be in better shape than that, as young as you are. It’s not good for your heart, you know.”
“I do know. I’m not exactly an idiot. Time is a factor, or you probably hadn’t figured that out.”
“You can use the treadmill. Take the kids down there.”
“Yeah, and that’s so easy.” Snarkiness ruled my comment.
“You don’t want to wake up one day with occluded arteries. Oh, wait, you wouldn’t wake up at all if they were occluded.”
“Gee, what a lovely thought.”
“Just telling you what happens when you don’t take care of yourself.”
“Let’s focus on Kinsley, shall we?”
He turned to check out his daughter. “What’s up polka dot? Not feeling so good?”
She scowled at him and I wanted to laugh. He looked at me and said, “Kids can be difficult.”
“Aren’t you a doctor?”
“I’m a cardiologist, not a pediatrician.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean? Didn’t he go to medical school? Didn’t they teach him about the human body? Wasn’t Kinsley a human? The way I figured she operated the same was as he did.
“That makes zero sense. She’s a human.”
He laughed. He fucking laughed at me. “Why is that funny?”
“She’s a child. I was trained on hearts, not kids.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. So you went to medical school and didn’t learn a thing about the human body, only about a heart.”
“No, that’s not what I said.”
“Is too.”
“Is not.”
He was so frustrating. “Stop it. What did you learn?”
“Hearts.”
“Then you got screwed.”
He stepped back like I slapped him. “I went to Harvard Medical School. I hardly think I got screwed.”
“If you can’t tell whether Kinsley is sick, I believe you did.”
He clamped his teeth together so hard I heard them click. “Marin, all I’m saying is I didn’t study childhood illnesses.”
“Can you at least tell if she’s got a sore throat? Like check in there or something? Don’t you have a little black bag with one of those lights in it like real doctors have? Or one of those ear lights?”
He glared at me before leaving the room.
I knew he went to his office and I had seen that little black bag of his in there. I’m not sure what was in it or if he actually used it. But it all seemed odd to me. I always figured you went to medical school and then got some kind of doctor training and then went to a specialty school. Guess I was wrong. He was special and just went to heart school.
Out he came toting that little black bag. He set it on the kitchen table and pulled out one of those things with a light on the end.
“Polka dot, open up so Daddy can see down your throat.”
She did. All he said was, “Hmm. Her throat is fairly red. Does it hurt, polka dot?”
She gave him her usual shrug.
“Did you take her temperature?” he asked me.
“No, but I will.” I ran upstairs and got the thermometer. Then I ran back down and stuck it in her ear. Seconds later it beeped. “One hundred. Not too high, but no wonder she’s cranky.”
“She’s probably coming down with a cold,” he said.
“She hasn’t been coughing nor has she been congested.”
“It could be the early stages. My thoughts are to keep an eye on her. Check her temperature every so often. If it gets above a hundred and one, call the doctor.”
“Okay.” At least he went to a school that trained him in more than just hearts.
So much for my plans for the day. The local library was having a kids’ day and I was going to take them there. But now, that was out. We would hang around here until she was better.
Dr. West was right. Kinsley ended up with a mild cold. By the next day, she developed a slight cough and runny nose. Nothing really bad, but enough to make her feel puny. After that initial day, she actually perked up. Aaron never got sick, thank God. And Dr. West even called during the day and the next to check up on the kids.
Chapter Sixteen
Greydon
I was sitting at my desk, skimming through my emails when Josh stuck his head in my office.
“Hey, don’t forget the office family picnic this weekend.”
Shit.
“Damn, thanks for the reminder.”
“Don’t you put this stuff in your calendar?”
“Yeah, I do, as a matter of fact.”
He let out a deep chuckle. “Guess you were trying to sneak out of it then, huh?”
“No, it just wasn’t on my mind.”
“So what was?”
Marin riddled with anxiety over a mere cold was. Last night, when I got home, she nearly assaulted me with questions. I assured her it was nothing and that kids got sick all the time.
“Not these kids. They haven’t been sick a day since I’ve been here.”
“You’ve only been here four months or so. Just give it some time.”
I told Josh about it.
“Hey, consider yourself lucky. You actually found a nanny who cares. We’ve had terrible luck finding a good one.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, and the one I have now is obsessed with germs. She’s constantly wiping everything off. It makes me crazy. I want to tell her to let the kids build up some immunities.”
“At least you don’t get reprimanded for not knowing pediatric diseases.”
“Truth. Man, I bet you wanted to give her a real tongue lashing.”
“More like a … never mind.” For some reason, her bossiness had been kind of hot, not to mention our verbal sparring. And it rattled me to the core. She was the nanny, and off-limits. I kept reminding myself of that.
He turned to leave and said, “Saturday. Noon. Don’t forget, asshole.”
I gave him the thumbs up. Honestly, I wasn’t looking forward to a Saturday afternoon picnic with the office staff. I wondered if Marin would be able to go. She could help watch the kids, which would be great.
That afternoon, after a relatively smooth day, I plopped my ass down into a chair in Mike, my psychiatrist’s, office.
“So? What’s new?”
“Things are better at home,” I said.
“Oh?”
It always drove me crazy when he did this shit. Threw the ball right back to me with absolutely no advice.
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Never give me advice.”
“Grey, if you want advice, write to Dear Abby. So? Explain how things are better. Tell me about your engagement with your children.”
He always found the snag, didn’t he? I shifted in my seat. “Kinsley is in love with the nanny. She really adores her.”
“Why the look?”
“The look?”
He laughed. “Your expression. If your brow was any more furrowed, you wouldn’t be able to see.”
I raised a hand to my forehead to ease the tension because indeed, he was correct. “She has a way with the kids that’s … genuine. She … loves them I think.”
He leaned closer. “That’s wonderful. You must be happy about that, knowing your kids are with someone who genuinely cares about them. What about your engagement with them? Is it any better?”
I squirmed. “I’m working on it.”
“Care to explain?”
“My nanny is on my ass constantly. She says I’m selfish.”
“And what do you say?”
“It’s difficult to argue with her, but she doesn’t know the whole story either.”
Mike leans back in his chair. I can tell by his expression he’s not buying my explanation. “Grey, by your own admission, you were never this way with your children before. How can we get back to the real Grey? You’re not a selfish man.”
“I wish I knew. I’m trying. It easier with Kinsley, but Aaron, I can’t decide what to do. She sees my reticence with him and takes it for selfishness.”
“I see. Let’s get back to the nanny. You’re happy the kids get along with her.”
“Uh huh.” I nodded.
“But I sense there’s more.”
He was right, only I was unwilling to admit it. “More?”
“More than just the relationship between the kids and the nanny.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He offered me one of his calm smiles. “Do you want me to spell it out for you, Grey?”
“You think I have a thing for her?”
“Do you?”
I swallowed. Why was it so hard to admit?
“Let’s try another subject then since you’re so … taciturn about this one. What about your decision on the DNA?”
The question hung between us, like a noose waiting to be tightened around my neck.
“Grey?” he prompted.
I gritted my teeth and admitted, “I don’t know.”
“You can’t keep torturing yourself. You’re eventually going to have to shit or get off that damn pot you’ve been on for how long now? Almost a year? Even I have to say it’s a little ridiculous.”
“Are you calling me out?”
“Damn right I am.”
This was the first time he’d gotten tough with me. I didn’t respond, only gaped at him because it had actually shocked me.
“Listen to me. If you know, you know. Aaron is yours for the long haul, whether you like it or not. If you get the test results and they tell you he doesn’t carry your DNA, you will have the answer. If they do say he’s yours, then you know. But this lack of knowing is disturbing you. You’re acting as though he’s not yours anyway, so what does it matter?”
When I didn’t respond, he continued, “Who would you give him to if the test shows you’re not his father?”
“No one.” I was indignant he’d even asked me that.
He leaned back, crossed his legs, and said, “Exactly.”
Then another thought popped into my head. “Holy shit. Aaron may have half-siblings.”
“Something else you may want to explore when he gets older, but that’s up to you.”
I knew Allie Gordon had two children, but I didn’t know their ages. Did that give him a right to know them?
“Yeah, I need to get this done. If he’s not mine, would I have a responsibility to tell Allie Gordon?”
He shrugged. “You may want to talk this over with your parents or brother, who’s an attorney. They could give you better guidance on this issue. My role is to get your head straight. The bottom line here … or question … is what will you do when you find the answer? How will it change the way you treat Aaron?”
I knew I’d backed away from him and that needed to change. I had to get right in my head over it. Maybe this would be the first step.
“You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
“I was hoping I’d given you a lot to act over. The thinking is what’s killing you. It’s time for you to make a decision.”
“You’re right.”
He uncrossed his legs and said, “Good. I want to see you back in two weeks. And Grey? I want you to either have made a decision or have done the test by then? Are you good with that?”
“Yeah. I am.”
After I got into my car, I googled DNA test kits on my phone and ordered one. I still wasn’t sure I’d actually go through it, but if I had it, maybe it would make the decision for me.
* * *
On Saturday, we pulled up to the park for the office family picnic. Marin wasn’t very excited about going. She tried to worm her way out of it, saying it wasn’t appropriate for her to attend a family event like this since she technically wasn’t family.
“It’s very appropriate. You’re there for the kids. And there’ll be others there besides family.” The truth was I couldn’t imagine going without her.
But I was wrong. In the past when I’d come to these, I’d never paid attention to who attended them. No one had brought their nannies or anyone outside of their immediate families. Marin was right and it was obvious the situation was extremely awkward for her. However, even if I had known, I still would’ve wanted her here.
“Are you sure I shouldn’t leave?” she asked.
The Best of Forevers Page 12