by Hope Ramsay
Carmen walked in, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other. She was wearing a bright-orange sleeveless blouse, print pants with yellow pineapples on them, and hot pink pumps. It was hard not to be wide awake after looking at her.
“Carmen, what are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be dispatching from the sheriff’s office today.”
“First, Maggie Nelson brought these in to say thank you for rescuing Dolly the other day.” She waved them under his nose. “They’re delicious, by the way. Second, I went out of my way to tell you to your sweet baby face personally that you’re making a big mistake with Sara and to get your head out of your ass.”
“How do you know anything about my personal life?”
“Tagg’s mother told everyone what happened at the Angel Statue Preservation Society meeting this morning. Apparently she’s rooting for her son to get back together with Sara.”
He sighed. “Thank you, Carmen. You can go to work now.”
“Did you sleep in those clothes? You look terrible.”
He sent her a glare. The best he could do right now. Maybe if he didn’t talk much she’d go the hell away.
Wishful thinking, because she parked her butt in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “I watched you grow from a cocky kid who was angry at everybody to a kind, gentle guy who watches out for every single citizen in this town. You hold your head high, Chief.” Her voice cracked a little. She shook her finger at him emphatically, her bright-fuchsia polish sparkling. “Don’t you let someone move in on your life who doesn’t have half the integrity you do. Even if he does have double the degrees.”
“And a better car,” Evan said from the other room.
Colton scrubbed a hand over his head. “When did everybody get to be Dear Abby around here?” Still, he felt a warm little tightening in his chest.
Evan appeared in the doorway. “Hey, someone’s here to see you, Chief.” He lowered his voice. “It’s that kid you gave the painting job to.”
Carmen leaned over, grabbed Colton’s chin, and shook it. “Think about what I said. Sara’s too good to let her get away.”
“Thanks, Mom,” he said as she headed out the door. He was only half kidding. “Hey, Carmen,” he called after her.
“Yes?” she asked, turning around.
“Seriously, thanks. I…appreciate your concern.”
She grinned. “No problem, boss.” She blew him a kiss as she left and patted Aiden on the shoulder as she passed him in the doorway.
Colton managed to grab a slug of his coffee before he told the kid to take a seat.
“So, Aiden,” he said, leaning back in his seat and tenting his fingers. Where to begin? The paint job looks terrific. Now get the hell away from my sister.
Aiden had taken a ball cap off his head and was holding it to his chest. He looked contrite and humble—and nervous. But Colton didn’t fall for that kind of thing easily.
As soon as the kid plopped into a chair, Colton said, “Look, Aiden, I’m glad you’re here. Let’s get a few things straight.” He was going to get the upper hand on this. Attack the problem head-on. Make it clear where he stood in terms of Hannah. Which was, he didn’t really want him near her but it was clear he wasn’t going to be able to stop them. But he could scare the shit out of Aiden. That might help. It would at least make him feel better.
Colton felt a sudden burning in his chest. Heartburn. He choked it down with a slug of coffee, probably not the best remedy.
“Before you start, I want to tell you I’m grateful for what you’ve done for me, Chief,” the kid said. “And I came to show you this.”
Colton wondered if the kid was being a kiss-ass. Aiden was smart enough to know when he was in trouble and clever enough to wheedle his way out of it. Colton might have tried the same back in the day. One look in Aiden’s eyes as he handed over a long envelope showed Colton otherwise. The kid looked eager. Proud. He was also shifting nervously in the chair. What in the world?
Colton pulled out an official-looking piece of paper. He took a minute to skim it. It was a letter of acceptance to the electrician program at the local technical college.
Well, I’ll be. The kid had followed through. Applied and gotten in. And looked damn proud of it.
“I start in the fall,” Aiden said. Despite his tough appearance, he was practically beaming.
Colton sat forward. The kid was grinning broadly. Colton couldn’t help breaking into a grin too.
“Congratulations,” Colton said. “Wow. I mean, this is great.”
“I owe it all to you, Chief.”
“You got the grades, Aiden. You got yourself in.”
“When I interviewed, the guy told me you’d personally put in a good word for me. I’ll never forget how you helped me.”
Aw, geez. This was killing him. The kid really meant it.
He stood up. “Look, Hannah told me you were upset about us. I didn’t tell you about me and Hannah because I knew you wouldn’t approve. I want you to know I’d never hurt her or mistreat her. I-I love her, sir. Hannah’s…amazing.”
There went his heartburn again. But somehow, the pain wasn’t so bad. He couldn’t not like this kid, who reminded him so much of himself. Who had so much potential. Who’d been dealt a shitty hand but was trying to overcome that. All he needed was a little bit of help.
“I’ll always be grateful for what you did for me. I’m going to do good, you’ll see.”
Colton put down the letter. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to find the right words.
“I expect you to keep working until your community service hours are done,” Colton said. “That will take the rest of the summer.”
“Will do.”
“And I expect you to turn in all your grades to me from school—as part of your court supervision, of course. No slacking, right?”
“Absolutely.” The kid was grinning widely now.
“And if you ever hurt my sister I will personally kick your ass, understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
He knit his brows down low. “And if you ever encourage her to get a tattoo I will come find you, is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
He escorted the kid out, wrapping his arm around him and squeezing his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, son,” he said. It suddenly occurred to him that this was the first time he’d ever called anyone son. It reminded him oddly of Chief McGregor, who had seemed ancient when Colton was a teenager but who probably hadn’t been much older than he was at the time.
The kid flushed and shook his head, a little embarrassed. Colton slapped his back and sent him on his way.
As he walked back to his desk, his eye caught the framed picture of Chief McGregor with his three buddies that hung on the wall. The buddy in the middle was his dad, whose smiling face looked up at him through time.
Colton wasn’t his dad. He had to live his own life his own way. But he liked to think his dad would be proud that he’d become an officer and was serving their hometown.
Colton hadn’t exactly chosen this job, but it suited him. Every once in a while, he was able to do some good. Besides, he loved it. Especially on days like this when something actually went right.
So maybe he wasn’t saving lives, not the way Sara and Tagg did, anyway, but he’d built himself a place here, a life. Made a few people smile. Listened to their complaints. Tried to alleviate their worries and make their town safe. Saved their dogs when they were roaming loose. Not such a bad job after all.
He’d messed up with Sara. And he hadn’t spoken honestly with her. He’d let things get in the way, like Tagg and the feeling he’d harbored that he was somehow not as good as Tagg. He’d been afraid of her slipping out of his fingers, thinking she wouldn’t want to stay here in this town, but had he actually asked her what she wanted?
Maybe it was time to let her know how he felt. And maybe he really was right where he belonged.
Chapter 22
&n
bsp; The next day in the office, Sara noticed her charts from the day before were missing, so she walked into her dad’s office, where he was sitting behind his desk reading a medical journal on his iPad.
“How’s it going, Dad?” she asked. His desk was gorgeous glass-covered cherry, his office complete with all his diplomas hanging in neat rows on the wall beside his desk. She’d always loved coming in here as a child, if only to sit in the big leather swivel chair or experiment on tapping Gabby’s knees with her dad’s reflex hammer.
The old Sara would never have made waves, just quietly suffered in silence. Not that things had been bad in the office. She felt there was real potential for her there. But first she had to get her father to look on her as a partner. And if she kept saying nothing, nothing was going to change.
She took a seat in one of the upholstered chairs across from his desk, where over the years he’d given a myriad of patients news about their health, both good and bad. “Dad,” she began, “what do you think of me coming to work here with you? I want the truth.”
He looked up from his iPad. “I think you’re going to be a successful physician no matter what you do.”
“That’s a canned answer. What do you really think of me being here? I mean personally?”
What had gotten into her? Well, a breakup would do that to someone, but she couldn’t really blame her boldness on that. She’d told off Tagg, and that had felt really good. And she’d told Colton that she cared about him, and even if that didn’t work out, she wasn’t going to crack. So she was on a self-assertiveness roll. She waited with her arms crossed.
“You want the truth?” her dad said, folding his arms and setting his jaw in a stubborn way that reminded her of…herself. “I hate to tell you my personal feelings because I don’t want it to cloud your judgment.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I don’t want you to stay because we love having you here. I want you to stay because it’s the best opportunity for you.”
“I really like seeing families. Talking to them about their concerns, educating them about health issues. I’m not going to apply for the fellowship again, Dad.” She suddenly spotted a familiar pile of manila folders on the corner of his desk. “And Dad, for God’s sakes, quit checking my charts every day!”
“First of all, I thought you wanted to go back to your fellowship. And secondly, I’m studying your charts. Not for errors. Well, maybe a little bit. Maybe. With the more complicated patients, but I must say, you have excellent clinical judgment. But I’m learning the new medicines you prescribe. I’m keeping up to date.”
“You don’t need to read my charts to learn that. I can teach you. More importantly, I thought you hated me doing family medicine. I thought you wanted me far away, on the East Coast somewhere.”
“I would never hold you back from what you want. If opportunity takes you far away from home, I want you to feel free to take it.”
“But sometimes it’s hard to figure out what exactly you’re thinking, you know? You just don’t…say much. And you’re all about academia. Reaching for the stars. Going as high as you can go. I’ve always wanted to please you, Dad, but I can’t help thinking that I always fall a little short.”
At that he took off his glasses and set them down on a pile of magazines. “Well, I’ll say one thing. Your assessment of me is just wrong.”
“Maybe it’s because you rarely say anything. Not that I’m begging for praise, but a nice word or two goes a long way, you know?”
“Sweetheart, I couldn’t be more proud of you. I’ve always encouraged all of you kids to reach for the stars—what kind of parent would I be if I didn’t?”
“Yeah, but Dad, sometimes you’re just pushy.”
He raised a brow. “Well, it appears that you’ve learned to push back, now haven’t you?”
She smiled at that. “All right then, while I’m on a roll, I’d like you to treat me like a partner. That means letting me see some of your more complicated patients—you know I’d talk over their treatment plans with you. I just don’t want to be treated like a med student.”
That was good, but she had one more thing to say. She took a deep breath and plunged in. “But mostly, Dad, I want you to treat me like your daughter. I want you to tell me you love me and are proud of me, because you are, aren’t you? Sometimes I just feel like you can’t express it or something. Or else you’re deeply disappointed.”
He looked at Sara and smiled in a sweet, nostalgic way that caught her off guard. “I delivered you, you know. Your eyes were green. Most newborns have blue, of course. You were wide awake with these big, round eyes, putting your tiny fist in your mouth, and I just…Well, I just fell. As purely and simply as I fell for your mother standing by the punch bowl at the senior prom. Anyway, I examined you and made sure you had all your parts, and there you were, my beautiful daughter.”
Oh, that did it. Sara started to cry. Her dad got up from his chair and met her on the other side of the desk, wrapping his arms around her.
“Oh, Dad,” she said, hugging him tightly and inhaling the spicy old-fashioned aftershave he’d worn for years.
“Your mother’s death wrecked me, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “There was a time when I didn’t think I could go on. Just because I don’t talk about her doesn’t mean I don’t still love her very much. Or you.”
She mopped at her eyes. “Maybe sometime we could have lunch and you could…talk about her a little. If you wanted to. Gabby and I want to know more about her—I mean, now that we’re adults.”
“I can do that.” He paused, and Sara noticed something she’d never noticed before. His eyes were watery. “I love you, sweetheart,” he said. “I’m sorry I don’t say that often enough.”
“Got it, Dad,” she said. “I love you too.” Open the floodgates, the whole dam just broke. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”
Her dad reached over to a mahogany-covered tissue holder and handed her a Kleenex. Then he surprised her again. “You love the cop?”
“Really a lot.” Oh God, there she went again. “And I think…I think you might have given him the impression he wasn’t good enough for me.”
“No one’s good enough for my daughter.”
“I think he assumed you were comparing him to Tagg.”
“Tagg’s an ass.” Her mouth dropped open. Her dad never cursed, yet now he was up to twice in one day. “And I wouldn’t be so sure the cop’s done with you yet. He looks at you like you’re chocolate ice cream.”
He’d clearly been hanging around Nonna too long.
A loud rap sounded on the door. “Doctors, let’s get the lead out,” Leonore boomed. “We’ve got people waiting out here, you two.” The firefighters probably heard her at the station two blocks down.
Her dad began walking toward the door but suddenly turned around. “I might want to go golfing on Wednesday afternoons and leave you in charge. What do you think of that?”
“You should take Wednesday afternoons off.” She grinned. “But then I would get Thursday afternoons off, how’s that?”
“Fair enough.”
In the hallway, her father passed a longtime patient. “Hey, Bill,” he said, stopping to shake his hand.
“Hey, Doc, how’s it going?”
“Great. Hey, this is my daughter, Sara, and she’s going to be seeing you today. She trained at Columbia, one of the finest hospitals in the country. You’re gonna love her,” he said, giving Sara a squeeze and beaming. “I know I do.”
After Bill passed by, her father said, “By the way, I never told you this, but I got the Hopplebauer Award in my residency class too.”
Sara’s mouth dropped open a little. “How did I not know that?”
He shrugged. “It was your moment.”
“Like father, like daughter then.”
“I’m really proud of you, sweetheart,” her dad said, giving her a fatherly squeeze. “And I’m so glad you came back home to work with me. We’re going to make a
great team.”
“Got it, Dad,” she said, grinning. “I love you too.”
* * *
“Hi, honey,” Rachel said as Sara walked into family dinner, which was at Rachel and Dad’s house that evening. “Oh, I’m so glad you came!” Rachel said from where she stood working at the kitchen island. She pecked Sara’s dad on the cheek. “How did you get her here?”
A corner of Dr. Langdon’s mouth turned up, and he gave Sara’s shoulder a squeeze. “I told her we didn’t want her to be alone on her birthday.”
Rachel gave her an enormous hug that made her tear up. “We’re your family. We know you’re hurting. But I’m so glad you’re here.”
Sara saw the pains Rachel had taken to make a nice birthday dinner. On the island two pies sat, half-covered with fresh whipped cream. Coconut cream, Sara would venture to guess. But she didn’t have the heart to swipe a sample. She checked her phone, as she had a million times that day. Colton still hadn’t called. Apparently he’d meant what he said about breaking up. OK, well, let him be like that. She’d be fine.
She wasn’t fine.
Rachel moved to finish putting the topping on the pies.
“They’re beautiful. Thank you.” Sara was touched by the gesture, but she was starting to feel really bad about this whole pie thing. Now that she’d spoken to Tagg, her aversion to cake was dimming, and she was ready to move on from it.
“Well, you’ve got to eat something. Right?”
Actually, she had about as much enthusiasm for dessert as a patient post gallbladder surgery, but she didn’t tell Rachel that.
“Rafe’s bringing Nonna over,” Rachel said. “We’ll all be together.” Well, that did it. She certainly wasn’t going anywhere now. Who knew how many birthday celebrations she had left with her grandmother?
Her dad had gone out in the yard to pick a few tomatoes for the salad. Rachel finished topping the pie and placed the spatula in the bowl.