by Amy Gamet
Every muscle in his body was poised to take action.
I have to help.
The car in front of him inched forward, giving him almost enough room to turn onto the grass and head for the accident. One more incremental movement of traffic and he’d be free to get to the scene.
He was sweating profusely, staring at the people near the minivan, none of them instilling any confidence in Greg in their abilities from here. There were bound to be injuries, and they were likely to be serious.
There might even be children in that car.
The sedan in front of him moved forward and Greg turned the wheel sharply, maneuvering his car out of traffic and heading toward the accident. His mind began to balk at what he was doing, and he eased off the accelerator.
There are other people here. You don’t have to help.
Lisa’s voice rang out in his head.
Maybe you came home because you’re supposed to help others.
Greg scowled and pressed the gas. Time mattered in situations like this. What if none of the bystanders knew what they were doing? The only way to know if he was needed was to see for himself.
He stopped his car and got out, running for the minivan. He heard a child yelling, a cacophony of voices.
"Excuse me," he said, brushing past the others to see through the windshield. The driver was unconscious and hanging sideways from her seatbelt. The child in the back was screaming, and a teenage boy was sitting in the passenger seat with his eyes open, unseeing.
He might be dead.
Or in shock.
Greg couldn’t tell until he got to him.
"Did anyone call for an ambulance?" Greg said.
"I did," said a woman.
Greg walked around the vehicle, his nose searching for the scent of spilled fuel.
Nothing.
He came back around and saw a man working to free the unconscious woman in the minivan.
"Hey!" he yelled sharply. "Don’t touch her."
"She’s upside-down. All the blood’s rushing to her head!"
"She’ll be fine until the ambulance gets here. It’s too risky to move her. She might have spinal cord injuries."
"Are you a doctor?" asked the man.
"No, but I know what I’m talking about."
The man narrowed his eyes, and Greg puffed out his chest and crossed to the man. "Stand back, or you’re going to make the situation worse."
The man did as he was told.
Where the hell was that ambulance?
His eyes skated back across the snarled traffic over the two-lane bridge, cliffs on either side of the roadway that would surely prevent cars from moving over. He scanned the crowd for someone young. Athletic. "You," he said, pointing at a teenage boy. "You see where that side street turns off, before the bridge?"
"Yeah."
"Run up there as fast as you can. Direct traffic to the side street so we can get the bridge clear for the ambulance. Can you do that?"
The boy’s eyes went wide.
Greg took a step closer to him. "You can do this. Act like you’re in charge and tell those cars to turn."
"Yes, sir." The boy began running toward the bridge.
Greg looked at the other people assembled by the car, his eyes selecting a middle-aged woman. "You have kids?"
"Three."
"Get up here and stay next to the girl. Try to comfort her. Can you do that?"
Some people tended to freeze in a crisis, needing only firm direction to become helpful once again.
The woman nodded and moved next to the girl’s broken window, talking to the toddler. "It’s okay, honey. Everything’s going to be fine…"
Greg wished he could get to the teenager in the minivan, but only the driver was accessible. He climbed up the tipped bottom of the van to get to the driver’s side window and reached inside, then firmly rubbed his closed fist on the woman’s breastbone.
She moaned.
"I need you to wake up and talk to me, sweetheart," he said. "You’ve been in an accident." He rubbed her again and she moaned louder, her eyes opening a fraction of an inch. "Chloe?" she said.
"Is that your daughter?"
"Yes."
"Chloe’s doing exactly what she’s supposed to do right now, screaming her head off. Protecting her airway. That’s a good sign."
"Colin?"
Greg peaked at the teenager in the passenger seat. "He’s unconscious. The ambulance is on its way."
"Oh, no…" she wailed.
"Tell me your name."
She squinted. "Janice Hemmer."
"Everything’s going to be okay, Janice. The paramedics will be here any minute and they’ll get you and your family out of here."
"Please. Call my husband, David. The phone’s in the console."
Greg fished it out and dialed as she gave him directions, knowing this could be the worst phone call of her husband’s life.
He could hear the sound of men running in formation, the rhythmic beating growing louder in his ear, and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. An image of Evan appeared in his mind.
Evan alive, and smiling.
You’re doing great, buddy, Evan yelled over the noise that was growing louder by the second.
Greg held a hand over his free ear and looked into the sky.
A helicopter.
Not troops marching.
A helicopter.
A man answered the phone. "Hey, babe."
"This is Greg Mora. I don’t want you to panic, sir, but your wife and children have been in an accident."
Paramedics descended upon the scene, quickly taking over and ushering Greg away. He covered his mouth with a shaking hand as he watched them strap Janice and her son onto back boards, extricate them from the vehicle and begin working feverishly over their gurneys.
I have to do this.
Hadn’t he known it since he was in hospital with Lisa? Hadn’t he sensed it was the right thing to do, the only thing he could do, since long before that?
His father’s words came back to him, his mother’s before that.
He was meant to be a doctor.
And he was going to be one.
* * *
Lisa sat on the floor in the empty kitchen, staring at the walls, her laptop open.
This room would be incredible.
Now that she’d taken the time to really look at it and plot out some designs on the computer, she was more than a little enthusiastic about the project.
She called the file, "My Dream Kitchen," though she knew she’d never have the chance to live in it. As soon as it was finished, this house was sure to sell and Lisa would be hanging her hat back at her apartment.
She frowned.
She may not be able to keep this house, but that didn’t mean she had to go back to New York City. Graphic design jobs were commonplace, even around Moon Lake.
She and Greg hadn’t talked about the possibility of her staying. While she thought he’d be happy, she knew such an important decision couldn’t be made based on what another person wanted, no matter how much she was beginning to care about him.
Lisa furrowed her brow, changing the cabinet color on the screen. They were planning to stain the cupboards a deep cherry, but she really liked the ones that were stained red.
Surely that wasn’t any good for resale.
She left them red.
The front door opened and Greg called out, "I’m back."
"Hey, what took you so long? I was starting to get worried." She looked up, one glance at his face shooting her full of worry. "What’s wrong?"
"There was an accident just on the other side of the Cross Creek Bridge."
She moved the computer and stood up quickly. "Are you okay?"
He shook his head. "I wasn’t in it. Tractor-trailer versus minivan, but the minivan managed to get out of the way and rolled onto its side. I helped out until the ambulance got there."
"Was the tractor trailer driver okay?"
"Fine
."
"A family?"
He nodded. "I think they’re going to be all right."
She held a hand to her chest. "Oh, thank God."
"Lisa, what you said to me at the hospital, that I should use this chance to help other people, that maybe I’m alive so I can be a doctor…" He shook his head. "That made it so I was able to help."
She wrapped her arms around him, surprised by the intensity of his embrace. She ran her fingers through his hair, not sure if she was comforting or congratulating him.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Are you expecting someone?" he asked.
"No." She walked to the door and opened it, finding a woman in a business suit and a man dressed casually. "Can I help you?" Lisa asked.
The woman extended her hand. "I’m Alana Cullen, the listing agent for this house. Are you Lisa?"
Her eyes went wide. "Yes."
"I spoke with your mother, but I wasn’t able to get you on the phone. This is Kevin Lambert. He’d like to take a look at the house."
"Oh…" Lisa looked at Greg, then back at the man on the doorstep. "Sure. Come on in."
"Thank you," he said. "I’m sorry to barge in here like this. I’ve been staying at a friend’s house in town for the last two weeks, and I’m really taken with Moon Lake."
Lisa bit her lip. "This town will do that to you, but we’re not ready for buyers this week. The kitchen isn’t finished."
Alana turned to her client. "Why don’t you head on through there and take a look at the sunroom. I’ll be right in." She turned back to Lisa. "I apologize for not giving you a heads-up we were on our way over. I did try, I promise you."
Lisa crossed her arms. It was quite possible she had the ringer on her phone turned off. "The open house isn’t scheduled for another few weeks."
"I realize that, but Mr. Lambert is a highly motivated buyer, and the house is technically on the market."
Lisa felt Greg walk up beside her. "Highly motivated?" he asked.
"He wants to purchase a home in Moon Lake, but he’s only in town until Friday."
"So you think he might buy this one?" asked Lisa.
Alana smiled. "He might. That is what we’re hoping for."
She looked to Greg, then back to the Realtor. "But I really wanted to get the kitchen done so we could raise the asking price."
"We were just about to order cabinets for the kitchen," said Greg.
"I’d hold off on that for now," said Alana. "You might not even have to bother."
Chapter 12
Greg felt the wind grab the mainsail and push the boat across the water. The sun was shining and conditions were perfect for sailing, as evidenced by the number of boats making their way out of the marina.
He shot a glance at Lisa, who sat along the side of the boat with her back turned toward him. She’d barely spoken since they left the house, and he didn’t want to push her.
They’d been living in a fantasy world for days, both of them. The kitchen remodel had become some crazy sort of playhouse, where they each got to pretend they were actually going to stay there, maybe even together.
For his part, Greg hadn’t realized he was doing it.
Every moment of his time with Lisa had felt like a dream.
He looked toward the south end of the lake, then the north. It was time to choose his direction. The south would be the easier ride down, smooth sailing, so-to-speak, but the ride back would be more labor intensive.
Greg chose the harder course.
It was about time, wasn’t it?
Lisa was a good ten feet from him, but he could feel her presence as if she were cuddled against his side. What was it about this woman that affected him so deeply, that opened the gates that had been closed for so long?
"You’re changing everything," he said quietly, his voice getting lost in the wind.
She turned to face him and he wondered if she had heard him. "I’m sad to see it go," she said.
"The house."
She nodded.
"You don’t know he’s going to buy it."
"If he doesn’t, someone else will." A gust of wind blew her hair in her face and she shook her head. "It’s what my mother wants, and I want her to be happy."
Greg could feel a sudden sadness come over her and knew exactly what had caused it. "You’re worried about her health."
"She’s dying. It’s more that I’m terrified than worried, really. And I’m sorry for not talking to her these last couple of years." She shook her head. "I can’t ever change that."
He wondered again what was wrong with Mrs. Addario, and considered asking for more details, but it didn’t seem like the right time. "You’re here now. That’s what’s important."
"I guess so."
"Are you glad you came home?"
Her face lit, so beautiful in the sunshine. "Couldn’t be happier. I never thought Melanie and I would make up, or that my mother cared about me as much as she does."
"You’re going to stay here."
"I’m not sure, but I’m considering it."
Her words were like a railroad switch clicking into place, the slightest movement that could send them each careening in opposite directions. He believed Lisa would decide to stay, and he’d already begun to feel his own life pulling him away from Moon Lake.
"It’s like I’ve been given another chance," she said. "I want to do things right this time. Be there for Melanie and help her with Mom, and be there for my mom, whatever that looks like. All of it."
"I’m proud of you."
"Thanks." She looked him intensely. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"You’re different."
He stopped breathing. The train was barreling down the track onto a different course.
A course that didn’t include Lisa.
Hadn’t you know this all along? Hadn’t you seen it coming?
He took a deep breath and blew it out.
His mind was getting ahead of him, connecting dots he didn’t want connected, drawing a picture far different than anything he’d been planning on. A picture that included medical school thousands of miles away from Lisa and her dreams of closeness with her family.
But he couldn’t say any of those things.
His throat was tight. "Not so different." He held out his arm and she walked into his embrace. "I still want you." The sun shone on her hair, light freckles coming out on her face.
How can I leave her behind?
He kissed her mouth, let his hand slip under her shirt to caress her bare back, his heart filling with an emotion he never thought he’d feel for a woman again, and didn’t dare name.
Their kisses grew frenzied.
She was unbuckling his belt, her hands exploring and making him gasp. She kissed his neck and desire exploded inside him like a cannon. He reached around her, but she unwound his arms, locking her fingers with his as she trailed kisses down his chest.
He was tempted to overpower her, settle himself between her legs and pleasure them both, but he wanted to see where she was going. When her kisses dipped lower and she got on her knees, he cursed out loud and pushed her away.
He was too excited to last if she did what she was planning.
She met his eyes. "Let me do this for you," she whispered.
His breath was coming fast, and he nodded. She slid his pants down and the buckle hit the deck just as her mouth closed over him. He threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, the sensation of her suckling sweetness overwhelming him, making him forget any misgivings he had about their future.
* * *
"I don’t understand what you’re saying. Of course there’s something wrong with her!" Lisa was standing in the hallway outside the emergency department at the hospital, talking to a doctor with Melanie and Greg.
The doctor shook his head. "Other than the MS that she’s had for years and a touch of dementia, your mother is a healthy individual."
Lisa stared at the doctor, uncompre
hending. "But she’s dying."
The doctor’s eyes went wide. "Dying? No. She just had a panic attack, is all. It can be very frightening. Many people who have them are convinced they’re dying, that it must be a heart attack."
"But before this, doctor," said Melanie. "She told us she was sick before this."
He flipped through a chart. "I’m telling you, there’s nothing."
Lisa held out her hand. "But Melanie met with the whole medical team!"
Melanie jerked her head back. "No, I didn’t."
"Mom said you did."
"Oh, my gosh. She lied," said Melanie.
"Wait a second," said Greg. "What did she tell you two, exactly?"
"It was all very vague," said Lisa. "She was sick. Terminally ill."
Melanie shook her head. "Come to think of it, she never said it was terminal. She just implied it, and she wouldn’t answer my questions when I asked."
"Mine, either," said Lisa. "But I didn’t think she was lying."
"Did she ever say anything specific that was wrong with her?" the doctor asked.
"No, not exactly," said Melanie.
Lisa rolled her eyes. "She made the whole thing up! We were conned. When she called me in New York and told me, I was so freaked out I came right home like a trained puppy dog."
The three exchanged glances.
Greg chuckled. "She wanted you back in Moon Lake. I thought she might be up to something."
Lisa narrowed her eyes. "You knew about this?"
"I suspected. Your mom was always willing to do whatever it took to get what she wants. Hell, that’s how she got me to work on the kitchen."
The doctor rubbed his head. "Well, this is good news, then."
"I’m going to kill her," said Melanie.
"Wait a minute." Lisa ran a finger over her lip. "Did you tell her it was a panic attack?"
"Not yet," said the doctor. "They gave her something to calm her down, and she was sleeping when I went in."
Greg spoke in a sing-song voice. "Don’t do this. I know what you’re thinking."
Lisa turned to Greg. "We won’t lie. Will we, Mel?"
"Nope. The truth, and nothing but the truth."
"You forgot the whole truth part," said Greg.
Melanie grinned. "No, I didn’t. I left it out on purpose."