by Lara Swann
I groan inwardly. Pretty much since the moment my thirtieth birthday hit, Mom has started talking this way - like she thinks I’m running out of time and not paying anywhere near enough attention to my ticking body clock and increasing age. I wish I was totally unaware of all those things, but as it is, I could do without the constant reminder.
“I don’t have time for any of that.” I say, going with the easy answer. It’s almost rote by now. “And I’m just not that interested, okay? I’d rather focus on my job right now. I’ve spent years training to be a doctor—I’d like to spend some time actually being one for a while—and be good at it, too.”
“But you just said yourself, honey, there aren’t any promotions left to get, so—”
This time I don’t bother to contain the groan, my hand sliding down my face.
“That’s really not the point, Mom. At this point, it’s not about my development - it’s about the practice. This is a great place, I love working here and I’m excited to grow and develop the business further—”
“But it’s not even your practice, it’s Nathan’s job to—”
“Just because my name isn’t on the door, doesn’t mean it’s not mine too. I’m still as much a part of it—” I cut myself off with a sigh, knowing this is a pointless argument to be having with her. “Isn’t this my decision, Mom? Why does it matter so much to you? Really?”
She can’t already be chasing grandchildren, can she? I mean, she rarely mentions kids at all, and she certainly doesn’t seem hung up on them…
I watch as she sighs now, shifting in her chair and leaning her elbow on the table as she keeps the phone propped up in front of her.
“I just…worry sometimes.” She says, glancing away. “You’ve spent so much time here, helping with Lori and everything else…between that and the pressure of earning enough to cover her therapists’ costs and your student loans…sometimes it seems like you’ve never had any time for yourself. I don’t want you feeling like you can’t, Jessica, sweetie. You know we could manage here even if you worked fewer hours or came by a little less—you’ve done so much, but I don’t want it to take over your life too. It’s not fair.”
She looks back at me, eyes full of emotion even with the slight fuzziness of the image, and it hits me right in the gut. My breath whooshes out of me and I shake my head, blinking as heat prickles at my eyes.
“Ohh, Mom…no, it’s…it’s not like that.” I struggle to find the words for a moment. “I don’t think anything like that—”
“But I do, Jessie. I do.”
“It’s not true, though.” I say softly. “Yeah, okay, the last while has been…hard on all of us. But that happens sometimes. Sometimes life is shit—but that doesn’t mean I regret any of it, or that I’d change anything I’ve done. It’s okay. And we’re coming through that now—things are so much better, and I’m so happy to see it that it makes everything else worth it. Really.”
“But—”
“It’s family. Of course it’s important.” I say, cutting her off. I know she can’t argue with that. “But I promise you - that’s not why I’m not dating. Really. I’m just…not that interested in all that right now, Mom. I want to focus on the practice. I’m excited to have a job where I’m making a real difference and I just want to…do that…for a while. I really don’t think there’s anything missing from my life.”
“Mm…” She makes a considering sound, and I hope that what I’ve said is really getting through to her. I don’t want her feeling responsible or guilty about any of this. “I still think that’s only because you don’t know what you’re missing. If you gave it a chance, you’d realize…”
“I’ve had boyfriends before, Mom.”
“Not since college. That’s really not the same thing, Jessica.”
“If you say so.” I say with a shrug, because I’m not nearly as bothered about the you-should-date conversation as I am that she’s feeling guilty right now. “But either way, that’s on me. It’s not because of Lori—or you. Okay?”
She hesitates for another moment, before finally sighing. “Yeah. Okay.”
I smile at her and she offers me a small one in return, the supportive-and-hopeful kind we’ve been exchanging for years. That’s one thing I’ve gained from all this - I know that whatever happens, my family will get through it together.
“And Lori seems to be doing well…” I add, trailing off expectantly.
We both know I was always going to ask about that, but after Mom’s concerns, I’d rather do it more subtly.
“She is.” Mom nods, her smile widening a little. “That therapist you found for her seems to be making all the difference, Jessica. It hink she’s fully in recovery now—and she seems really determined this time.”
“Good.” I say, my smile growing too as she confirms the impression I got for myself earlier. “That’s really good, Mom. I’m so glad.”
“Me too. Really, I think—”
An alarm goes off in the background and Mom turns around.
“Oh, fiddlesticks. That’s dinner—I have to go in a moment—”
“Mom!”
“Yes, I’ll be right there! Turn the oven off for me, would you?”
She turns back to me. “Sorry about that.”
“That’s okay—go—it’s fine—”
“It was lovely to chat, though.” She smiles at me.
“Yes—I’ll call again on Saturday.”
“And you’ll come back and visit soon?”
“Yes—I’ll find a weekend. I promise.”
“Good.” Her smile widens. “Oh, and Jessica—I’m thinking about doing something for my birthday this year. Maybe having a little gathering next month?”
“That sounds lovely—that weekend is already in my diary, Mom. All reserved for you.” I grin at her, and she has the grace to look touched.
“Oh, sweetie—”
“Go on. Don’t let me interrupt dinner anymore than I already have.”
“Okay, okay. Talk soon.”
“Bye, Mom.” I say, and give her a little wave before hanging up the call.
I lean back with a small sigh, trying to wrap my head around the whirlwind that is talking to my family.
The dating conversation again, huh? How many more times are we going to have that?
I could hope that after reassuring her I’m not single because of Lori, she might back off a little bit, but I know better. We’re probably going to keep having that discussion until I get a boyfriend.
Ugh.
I meant what I said. I don’t have time for that right now, and…well…
“You’re still here?” I look up as Nathan’s voice breaks into my thoughts, to see him poking his head into my office as he passes.
He’s got a backpack slung over one shoulder and his jet black hair swept back from his face in slight disarray as he gives me that roguish smile he seems to pull off with no effort at all. The strong, rugged jaw covered in a smattering of stubble and those startlingly blue eyes only add to the effect, and almost on cue, my heart thumps erratically in my chest.
Yeah. So…that’s the other reason I’m not really interested in dating right now.
Nathan Blake. My boss.
I’ve been working here three years, and I still haven’t quite managed to shake the crush I’ve had on him since the very first day. That probably makes me more than a little pathetic…not to mention immature, harboring a teenage-like crush…but telling myself that hasn’t helped so far.
If anything, it’s gotten worse the more I’ve seen of him. The strong ethics and natural decisiveness he uses to lead the practice, the soft heart he has around his sweet little girl and his resilient, uncomplaining nature. He’s been to hell and back these last few years, but you wouldn’t know it unless you caught him at a few, heart-wrenching moments.
“Jessica?” His handsome mouth turns down in a slight frown. “Everything okay?”
“Oh—yeah, sorry. Away with the fairies. I was j
ust finishing a few things off.” I say, gesturing at my desk with a shrug.
“Sure.” He nods. “Do you mind locking up? I promised I’d be back for—”
“Yes, of course.” I say immediately, making a shooing gesture with my hands. “Go. Get back to that adorable little girl of yours.”
“Thanks, Jess. Oh—and Mrs. Winters came out of your clinic singing your praises earlier, you know. Whatever you did for her daughter, you did a damn good job of it.”
I smile, my heart warming at the reminder that however hard that appointment was, it really did help.
“Thanks Nathan.”
“Really—you have a way with the younger ones.” He shakes his head. “I can’t get them to say a damn word to me most of the time.”
That’s probably because most of them are tripping over themselves with the sudden pheromone hit.
“That’d be growing up with a kid sister, I bet.” I say, with a rueful smile. “It helps, I guess.”
“Ah yes, of course. Well, let’s hope I figure it out before Emma gets to that stage. At the moment, she won’t stop talking to me.” He smiles, that far-off look in his eyes when he talks about his daughter totally endearing.
“Go on.” I say again. “You should get back to her.”
“Yes—right, I’m going.” He gives me a last look. “Don’t stay too much later - I don’t pay you enough for all the extra time.”
“Well, we could always fix that.” I say, grinning.
“Bring it up again at the next salary review meeting.” He meets my grin, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he means it. Nathan has always been more than generous. “See you tomorrow, Jess.”
He raises a hand before stepping back and continuing down the hallway. I watch him leave, sighing a little more wistfully than I’d like.
Nothing is ever going to happen there, but that doesn’t stop me from thinking about it sometimes and wishing that maybe it could.
If only Nathan hadn’t already been burned once. If only he wasn’t even more busy than me and even more opposed to the idea of dating…if we didn’t work together…if he saw me as anything other than a friend and colleague…
Yeah, if only.
Except life doesn’t work that way.
I’m all too aware that the only things that matter to Nathan are his little girl and his practice - and that he’s never noticed me in that way at all - so that lovely compassionate gaze of his, the strong, competent hands and rugged appeal…none of that is going to come to anything more than a daydream.
It’s just a nice daydream, that’s all.
Eventually I’m sure I’ll get the message and move on, but so far…that hasn’t happened…and since I’m not interested in dating anyway, I might as well enjoy the occasional flutter in my stomach, that electric current zipping across my skin.
It reminds me that I’m more than just a doctor, or a sister, or a daughter. I’m a woman, too. I might not have time to pursue that right now, but it’s nice to feel every so often.
My gaze lingers on the doorway even after I’ve heard the door at the end of the hallway open and close, and it takes me a few moments before I finally look back down at my computer, reaching forward to turn it off with a soft sigh.
At least Lori is still doing well and that uncomfortable weight in my chest has finally loosened a little.
I did a good job today. My sister’s recovery is on track. Those are the things that actually matter.
Chapter Two
Nathan
“D adddyyyy!”
The excited squeal hits me before I’ve even stepped all the way inside and I brace myself with a grin as a small figure hurtles towards me.
“Emma!” I laugh, scooping her up as she reaches me and swirling her around.
She giggles adorably, squirming and nestling closer to me as I bring her into my chest. She climbs up me until she’s in the position she wants, throwing her little arms around my neck and making my heart melt as I kiss her forehead.
I shut the door behind me and drop my backpack to the floor as she settles, before looking at her with a grin.
“Hello, munchkin. Have you had fun today?”
She nods enthusiastically. “Yes! We made…made…umm…cakes!”
“Cakes?” I say, not having to exaggerate my delight at all. “Wow! Let’s go and see, huh?”
I walk us toward the kitchen, hearing Mom rattling around in there as I do. Emma nestles further into me, mumbling something I don’t quite catch but seemingly content just to be carried. Something inside me relaxes, as it does at the end of every day when I come home to this. I don’t think it’s something I’ll ever get tired of - having Emma in my arms, safely and sweetly curled up against me.
I try to treasure every moment like this, knowing that the years will fly past - knowing how they have already - and that she won’t always be this little and dependent on me, but it still feels like it’s slipping by too fast sometimes.
“Hiiii Grandma.” I say as I walk into the kitchen, walking up to give her a half-hug and kiss her on the forehead too. “I hear you’ve been making cakes?”
“That we have.” She says, smiling indulgently as she turns from the pans she’s putting away and looks at Emma curled up against me.
I look around expectantly, but she just tuts.
“Maybe if you eat up all your dinner, just like Emma did, you can have one after.”
I laugh softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll be just as good as my little girl. But I can at least see them first, right? Emma wanted to show me—”
“What Emma needs is to get up to bed.” Mom says, with a pointed look at the little girl whose head has fallen against my shoulder, her eyes drifting closed. “I let her stay up to say goodnight to you, but she’s been dead on her feet for the last hour.”
I shift Emma slightly against me and notice what Mom is saying. She’d seemed so full of energy when I walked through the door…
“I’ll take her up.” I nod, feeling a twinge of guilt that I couldn’t have gotten away just a little bit earlier. “Thanks, Mom.”
“That’s okay. Dinner is waiting for you down here when you’re done.”
“Have you eaten, or—”
“I ate with Emma, but I’ll stay and join you for a while.”
There’s something in her tone that makes me pause, but she shakes her head before I can say anything, making a shooing gesture.
“Go on. I’ll talk to you after.”
That doesn’t help, but I push the feeling aside and nod again, walking with my daughter up to her room, grateful that Mom has already got her into pajamas and ready for bed. Trying to cajole a grumpy, half-asleep Emma through that routine wouldn’t be a fun battle.
She stirs as I lay her down in bed, her eyes blinking open as she reaches out to me.
“Read to me, Daddy.” Her voice is sleepy but insistent, and I can’t help smiling.
“You’re half-asleep, sweetheart. You don’t want a story right now - you want to go to sleep.”
Of course, trying to tell my little girl what she wants only fires up the stubborn streak in her.
“Nooo…read!” She repeats, that determined pout on her sleep-fogged face tugging at my heart.
“Okay, okay…what story do you want tonight?” I give in without any real protest. The idea of Emma falling asleep as I read her a story has its own appeal.
Her arm flings out from where she’s lying on the low bed, pointing to the pile of her favorite stories on the bottom bookshelf sitting against the wall.
“The…Hungry Cap-er-tilla!”
I laugh, following her direction to find the book and returning to lie down on the bed next to her. She shifts over to make room for me and I wrap one arm around her as she curls against my chest. I’m taking up almost all the available space on her bed, but she doesn’t seem to mind, pointing enthusiastically to the book in encouragement.
“Hungry Cap-er-tilla!” She repeats, insistent again, and I oblige, s
tarting to read to her and keeping my voice low and soothing as I do.
I’m just hoping the excitement of a story hasn’t woken her up too much for that to work - but within only a few pages she’s drifting off again, and by the time I finish the story her breathing is soft and even against my chest. I smile to myself as I put the book down and turn out the soft light, slowly levering myself out from under her—
“Daddy…” She mumbles, clutching at me slightly. “Don’t go.”
I sigh softly, but I’m smiling as I give in, returning to lie down and shifting us so that I’m on my side, curled around her and cuddling her against me. I should probably capitulate less to the whims of a three-year-old, but I can’t help it - every time she wants me, every time I see how much I mean to her, my heart just melts. I lean forward and kiss her forehead, smoothing back the soft hair there as she settles back into sleep.
I stay there for longer than I intend, just watching her soft, peaceful breathing. It’s times like this that everything else fades away and I feel content in a way nothing else gives me - not even the practice, or the satisfaction of diagnosing something complex and really helping our patients.
Just stay like this forever, Emma. Don’t change.
When it feels like she’s deep into sleep, I slowly creep away - but I can’t help looking back at least a couple of times before I leave the room, pushing her door almost closed.
“That was a long bedtime.” Mom comments with a raised eyebrow when I finally make it back downstairs.
“She wanted a story.” I say, with a slightly rueful smile. “And then for me to stay.”
Mom shakes her head, tutting slightly, but there’s a knowing smile on her face. “You’re going to spoil that girl to bits.”
“Probably true.” I acknowledge, taking the plate of food sitting on the table and popping it into the microwave. “Thanks for dinner - and for being here, as always.”
I give her a smile as I set the timer, then notice the serious look on her face.
“What did you want to talk to me about, earlier?” I ask. I’d almost forgotten, actually. Emma has a way of making little problems disappear.