by Claire Adams
“There's also Emma to think about. And my professional relationship with your mother.” Eric ran a hand back through his hair, tousling it even more than the sex had. “For all we know, you could be headed back to Chicago sooner rather than later. I know you're mostly here because of your mom's health. In any case, I don't want to rush into anything.”
“Right, of course not,” I said, feeling a stab of disappointment. From the way he was talking about it, it sounded as though he was considering a relationship. But now it sounded like he wanted something that was just short-term, and just sex. I swallowed hard, hating the idea of that.
Of course, that's kind of the feeling that I'd gotten the previous time we'd slept together, given that he'd avoided seeing me from that night until after the next weekend. Clearly, he wasn't looking for me to be his girlfriend.
I gave a mental shrug. I'd take what I could get, I supposed. The sex was really good, and I didn't want to lose him. Plus, maybe if he had time to get used to me, and get used to the idea that I was sticking around for a while, maybe things would change between us.
What it really came down to was, I wasn't ready to make myself vulnerable yet by telling him that I wanted something more. Especially when it sounded like he wasn't prepared to give me something more.
Eric frowned, his eyebrows knitting together, and I realized that I'd been silent for too long. But I wanted to hear what else he had to say, anyway. “I'd like to keep seeing you,” he said. “But more like this, with a few ground rules. Dinners in other towns. No staying over at one another's houses. I just want things to be pretty low-key so that word doesn't get around town that we're...” He trailed off, clearly not sure how to describe what exactly we were doing.
But I had the perfect word for it: fucking. We were just fucking. It might be tender and sweet, but it was all couched in the idea that this was going no further.
I really was his rebound. The thought almost amused me, or it would have if I hadn't been feeling so unsettlingly upset about this.
I forced a smile on my face. “I understand,” I told him. “I'm having a good time too, and I don't see a reason to put labels on this. It'll only stress us both out, won't it? Anyway, we're both a little too old to have designated fuck buddies.”
Eric looked taken aback, and I wondered whether he'd been expecting me to be upset about this. If he only knew.
“Right,” he said after a moment.
“So, you probably need to get back to Emma, don't you?” I asked, my voice overly bright, echoing around the motel room.
Eric stirred, as though I'd just brought him back to reality. “Right,” he said again. He climbed out of bed and started getting dressed, and after a moment, I did the same.
I couldn't help snickering. “Just like teenagers,” I commented.
Eric gave me a smile, but he looked distracted. Aside from a quick goodbye hug, we didn't interact further, even as we walked back to our cars. I got in and had to blink tears away from my eyes so that I could see the road ahead of me. His headlights disappeared in my rearview mirror.
Chapter Fifteen
Eric
It had been two weeks of hardly interacting with Olivia, and I was still at war with myself over what I wanted from my relationship with her. Our conversation on our last date had gone the way that I'd wanted it to go, I thought, at least insofar as I had been able to get out all the words that I'd been thinking. But I hadn't expected her to be so calm and clinical in her reaction. I wasn't the kind of guy to do the casual relationships thing. That had never been me before, and it definitely wasn't me now that Emma was in the picture.
I wanted something serious, or I didn't want anything at all. After all, there was no reason to change my life or to risk upsetting my daughter for something that wasn't meaningful. Besides, I'd come to care for Olivia, despite the fact that I'd only known her for a short time, and I wanted to see if the future had something more in store for the two of us.
But Olivia had treated our relationship as though it were some casual thing. As though that were a given. That worried me. And what's more, that confused me. I tried to figure it out logically, chalking it up to the difference between small town life and city life. Maybe, while I was looking to eventually settle down with whoever it was I ended up dating, and she was just looking for fun.
She just hadn't struck me as the kind of person who was just looking for fun. But then again, we had had sex on our first date; I supposed that said something about both of us.
Since that second date, things had been awkward between the two of us. We barely spoke when I stopped in the daycare to drop Emma off or pick her up. I had run into Olivia a couple of times around town as well, and those interactions didn't go any smoother. I just wasn't sure what to say to her anymore. The comfortable ease that we'd had before seemed to have evaporated like it was never there at all.
My desire for her hadn't lessened, but it was as though neither of us knew how to make the next move.
As though neither of us knows how, or as though neither of us is willing, said a snide voice inside my head.
And it didn't make things any easier, knowing that I had to talk to her about her mother once again. I sighed and drummed my fingers against Olivia's mock reception desk. “How have you been?” I asked.
Olivia's eyes narrowed minutely. “Fine,” she said. “You?”
“Fine,” I echoed. I paused. “How has your mom been?”
“She's fine,” Olivia said. “If you want to talk about her medical situation, you should probably call her and talk about it.”
I detected a hint of exasperation in her voice, but I wondered how much of that was directed at me for asking the question rather than her mom for not listening to her.
“I've tried to talk to her,” I told Olivia. “But she's not answering any of my calls.” I shook my head. “If we don't start chemo now, I'm afraid she may only have a year left. Maybe less.”
I hated having to say things so bluntly, and I could tell how upset I was making Olivia. She folded in on herself, and I could see the faintest traces of tears in her eyes. But when I reached for her, wanting to comfort her, she pulled away from me.
She cleared her throat. “Things may be difficult, and the outlook might not be good, but I haven't given up hope yet,” she said. “And I suggest that you don't either.”
“I'm not giving up hope,” I said, feeling irritated that she would even think that. “I'm just saying that based on the last round of tests we ran, the prognosis is starting to look worse every day.”
Olivia nodded curtly at me, but she didn't say another word about it. Finally, I sighed and shook my head. I wanted her to help me out, but I guessed I had to find some other way to convince Jeannie to listen to me. I was at a loss for what that might be, as much as I was at a loss for what the next step was for Olivia and me. But I had to figure it out on my own.
“Well, I'll see you tomorrow morning,” I said to Olivia, bending down so that I could scoop up Emma.
As we were driving home, Emma started crying, for no reason that I could discern. I winced and pulled up outside Ernie's Diner; there was no way I was going to try to handle a crying toddler's temper tantrum and cook dinner at the same time. I didn't have the patience that evening; I had felt worn out ever since that second date with Olivia. Thinking of her kept me up at night, and I wasn't sleeping very well.
“Hey, sweetie, want a milkshake?” I asked Emma as I went around to her door. I knew that wasn't proper nutrition for her, but if I could just convince her to quit crying, even if I were bribing her, it would be worth it. Sure enough, Emma reached up and dried her eyes and then solemnly held out her arms so that I could scoop her up out of her car seat.
The diner was busy with the usual dinner crowd, but Emma and I managed to snag a table for two in the corner, and Ernie brought over a high chair. “Haven't seen you in here in a while,” Ernie commented as he waited to take our orders. That was one of the things that I liked
about Ernie, despite all his gossiping: he genuinely made everyone feel welcome there by engaging them in conversation, even if he was busy at the time.
Of course, that was probably just a tactic so that he could get the latest scoop.
I smiled a little and shook my head. “Things have been busy lately,” I said. It was a lie: my days consisted of dropping Emma off at daycare, seeing my patients, and feeding us both in the evenings. On weekends, Helen and Emma had been taking more trips together, which left me with unexpected pockets of free time. I had a feeling Helen suspected that something might have happened with Olivia and me, after I'd let slip that the two of us had gone on a date, although she never said anything direct about it.
But I wasn't spending those free hours with Olivia. Instead, I was spending them alone with my thoughts, trying to remember what hobbies I'd had before I became a dad.
“How is darling Miss Emma doing tonight?” Ernie asked jovially. “All ready for a strawberry banana shake?”
Emma laughed and clapped her hands together, her earlier tears gone. I couldn't help smiling as well. At least she was happy, regardless of what might or might not be going on between me and Olivia. It was all the more reason not to rush into things with her. I didn't want Emma's whole world to be shaken up again, to the point where she had to relearn how to laugh all over again. The past two years had been difficult enough for her.
The front door swung open as Ernie went back behind the counter, and none other than Georgia walked in. I groaned, hardly believing my luck. Of all the nights of the week, why did she have to be here tonight?
Her eyes scanned the diner, looking for an empty seat. True to form, she came over and dropped into the empty seat at our table, not bothering to ask if it was all right. I suddenly had the irrational wish that Emma was old enough to sit in a proper seat, rather than requiring a high chair.
“So good to see you, Dr. Jones,” Georgia said silkily. “You've been busy lately; you aren't returning my calls.”
“If you want to schedule an appointment, you need to call me on my work phone; you know the drill,” I told her. I actually hadn't listened to any of her voicemails. I assumed if there were something seriously wrong with her, she'd come find me in person. Or find another doctor. I could only dream.
“You silly,” Georgia said, laying a hand on my arm. “I'm not interested in booking an appointment with you.”
“Your shoulder is feeling better?” I asked sarcastically.
“Loads better,” Georgia said, flashing her teeth at me. “I was just wondering how things were going. I know life as a single parent can't be the easiest.”
“Unless you're volunteering to babysit Emma on one of Nana's nights off, you should stop right there,” I cautioned her.”
Georgia frowned and took a sip of my water. “Isn't that what Olivia is for?” she asked.
“Olivia is Emma's daycare provider,” I said. “Emphasis on the day part of daycare.”
Georgia giggled. “So I assume if I wanted you to take me out on a date, it would have to be on one of the nights when Nana could watch Emma?” she asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Georgia, we've been over this before,” I hissed, hoping no one else could overhear us in the crowded diner. “I'm not interested in dating you. Now please, just let it be.”
“I get it, you're still mourning,” Georgia said, waving aside my protests. Her eyes narrowed. “You know, I'm not sure I would trust Olivia if I were you.”
“What the hell do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, she's new in town,” Georgia reminded me. “And let's just say, I have my doubts about the woman's credentials.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. I wanted to fly off the handle at her, to tell her to get the hell away from me. But there was something about the way she said it that made me curious. I hadn't done a very thorough check on Olivia's background before bringing Emma to her daycare. I had taken the recommendation from Jeannie at face value, as you did in a small town, where everyone in the local business scene was your neighbor. But Olivia wasn't part of the local business scene; as Georgia pointed out, she was new here. I frowned.
“You know,” Georgia said, leaning in and whispering in an exaggeratedly loud manner, “Harlan told his mom that he saw Miss Olivia kissing a man the other day, right there in the daycare.”
I frowned, wondering what she was talking about. I had kissed Olivia at the daycare, but that had been nearly two weeks ago now, and we hadn't been in the daycare, strictly speaking. We'd been out in the backyard.
Was there a chance that that was the kiss that Harlan had been referring to? Then again, he was picked up earlier than Emma most nights.
“Buck Johanssen,” Georgia said triumphantly, clearly able to see from my expression that she had hit a nerve.
“What about Buck?” I asked. It had to be me that Harlan was talking about, but something told me Georgia wouldn't have been so smug if that was the case. And was it really so unbelievable that Olivia might have moved on to someone else? She and I had hardly talked over the past couple weeks, and I knew how those city girls moved.
Not that Olivia struck me that way, but you never knew, did you?
“Well, that's who he saw,” Georgia said cheerfully. “Harlan saw Olivia Sable kissing Buck Johanssen at the daycare. I suppose it makes sense, given that Buck is her mother's gardener. Those two families have always been close.” She paused, staring consideringly at me. “Why, did you hear something else?”
“No, of course not,” I said after a moment. Buck Johanssen. I couldn't believe it. I swallowed hard, pushing back the bitterness that surged through me. It was my fault, I knew. If I wanted Olivia to be interested in me, I had to get my life together and stop worrying about what Emily would have thought.
Easier said than done.
“I've already put orders in for these two, but can I get you anything?” Ernie asked Georgia, arriving suddenly at the side of our table.
“Oh no,” Georgia laughed as she grabbed her purse off the back of her chair. “I'm not hungry, but thanks anyway.” She winked down at me as she stood up. “It was good seeing you, Dr. Jones. Don't be such a stranger, you hear?”
Chapter Sixteen
Olivia
I flushed the toilet and wiped my mouth, feeling horrible. It had been a while since I was this sick. I worked with kids, so I knew to take my vitamins and eat a healthy diet. I got as much sleep as I could, although lately my sleep had been plagued by dreams of a certain doctor and his wonderful hands. I blushed even thinking of the filthy things that I'd imagined of him.
But right now, I couldn't feel turned on; I felt wretched. I'd puked the past couple mornings, unable to keep any food down. And the rising of the sun didn't seem to help things, unfortunately. Keeping up with Emma when I felt this crummy was a nightmare, and I was just lucky that it was the weekend. I was all set to put on my fluffiest pair of pajamas and crawl back into bed. Maybe I'd watch a movie, although the idea of focusing on anything made my stomach lurch again.
I looked at my calendar as I fell back into bed. The middle of May already; how was that possible? This year was flying by.
Suddenly, I frowned. I flipped back in the calendar to the last day with a red dot in the corner of the box. It had been over a month since my last period. In fact, if everything was normal, I should have gotten my period about a week ago. Yet nothing had happened.
Queasiness and a missed period…
My stomach lurched, and I thought I was going to get sick right there. But fortunately, there was nothing left to come up after my episode that morning. Still, I felt entirely unsettled. “I need to get to the pharmacy,” I muttered to myself.
I could hardly consider that I might be, well, pregnant. Despite all the signs. We'd had sex a couple of times, but I was on birth control, and we'd used a condom. Still, I knew neither of those things were 100% foolproof. There was still the chance that I might be pregnant.
I wasn't going to be ab
le to relax until I knew for sure.
I realized that I couldn't buy a pregnancy test at the local pharmacy; the news would be all over town by lunchtime. So I took a long drive, going a few towns over before I bought the test and then backtracking. Even though the wait to know if I was pregnant was making my stomach churn. The bag on the passenger's seat left me preoccupied.
Even if I was pregnant, what was I going to do? I couldn't imagine a way to tell Eric. And then there was Emma. How would she feel, knowing that she was about to have a little brother or little sister? She already had it so rough. She was already so desperate for attention. What if her little sibling upstaged her? Would she be able to recover?
I peed on the stick; then, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, counting to 20. I glanced at the instruction manual, making sure I knew what the symbols stood for before I looked at the results.
I couldn't believe my eyes.
“No,” I whimpered, sinking to the cold, tile floor. Disbelief flooded through me. And shame.
How was I going to explain this to anyone? Things between Eric and I were already so strained and awkward. I had barely heard from him over the past couple weeks, and it wasn't as though I had tried to contact him, either. I hadn't known what to say to him, even when he had shown up at the daycare to drop off his daughter. It wasn't as though now I could suddenly call him up out of the blue and admit that I was pregnant.
But in a town as small as this, it wasn't as though I could avoid him. Sure, I could stall for a little while, but eventually, he was going to find out the truth. Especially since he was the town's one main doctor. If I tried to hide this from him, he would probably be able to diagnose me long before I even started to show.
I grabbed my keys, before I even knew what I was doing, and headed out, locking the door behind me and walking to Mom's house.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, finding her in the kitchen. “What are you working on?”
“Hey, sweetie,” Mom said warmly, taking a break from whatever it was so that she could kiss me on the cheek. “I'm canning cherries. The crop has been so good this year that I don't even know what to do with all the fruit. So I figured, a few dozen jars of cherry preserves to keep us through the winter! Can you imagine cherries on waffles, cherries in cookies? It'll be great.”