Her shoulders seemed to relax an inch or two below her ears, but then she looked at the floor. “You were supposed to be in Maryland.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“I didn’t mean—” She stopped midsentence. “Look, my Aunt had an accident and she needed me. I didn’t know you were in town. Then this opportunity came up.”
“You should take it if that’s what you want. Couples break up all the time, and it doesn’t mean one of them has to leave town. That was your choice.”
She seemed to swallow hard at that. “I’m aware of that.”
The elevators doors swung open, and Ivey continued walking towards Lillian’s office, so he followed. If she wanted off this committee, they’d probably appoint someone else. Meanwhile he’d be stuck with the responsibility. Hopefully the new subcommittee member would be a man. Or ugly.
Ivey knocked once on Lillian’s door, then hesitated and knocked again.
Lillian opened the door, tissue in hand. “Come on in.”
It appeared that the medical director had been crying. Her eyes were red and her cheeks blotchy. But that couldn’t be, because there was no crying in medicine. Only patients were allowed to cry. Sometimes.
So far this day was not shaping up to be any better than the last forty-eight hours.
“Is everything okay?” Ivey asked.
“Wonderful. I just have something in my eye. I’ll need to find a new babysitter though. My son hid the babysitter’s dentures. I could barely understand the woman when she called to quit on me. This is the third babysitter we’ve been through. Did I mention that? But you don’t need to hear my problems. What can I do for you?” Lillian sniffed into her tissue and offered them a brave smile.
Jeff turned to Ivey and didn’t say a word. It was for the best that he remain mute.
“I wanted to tell you that—” Ivey began and then stopped. Glanced at him.
For help? Really?
“Yes? What is it?”
Ivey let out a breath. “I’m going to enjoy working with Dr. Garner. I think we’ll make a good team.”
The director sighed deeply. “That’s what I like to hear. Finally some good news. You’ve made my day.”
On the way back down in the elevator, Ivey pointed a finger in his direction. “Not a word. It’s hard for a working mother to find good child care. Besides, we can make this work, can’t we? If we sit on opposite sides of the table and divide up the work.”
Funny how Ivey behaved, when she’d been the one to leave him. Suddenly he’d had enough of her games. “Explain why you’re so pissed when you’re the one who broke up with me.”
“That’s good, Jeff. Are we now going to rewrite history? Let’s go ahead and get rid of the Vietnam War while we’re at it. You broke up with me.”
“Speaking of rewriting history, you just did that.” He stepped off the elevator and walked briskly ahead of her to the conference room.
He opened the door and stood aside for her. Ivey started to walk through, then stopped. She took a deep breath and then gave him a long look with those blue eyes that sometimes looked violet, depending on the light. “Before we walk in there, we have to agree to leave our personal lives outside. That’s the only way I’ll do this.”
“You got it.”
“Good.” Ivey walked to the conference table and opened her tablet. “Let’s get started.”
Jeff went ahead and pretended that magical pixy dust had settled over them the moment they crossed the threshold. For the next two hours, they talked birth statistics, labor and delivery, and emergency C-sections. Ivey’s cheeks got a little pink every time they discussed a woman’s pregnancy and risk factors, a bit strange for someone who claimed to be a midwife.
“I’m sure your part in all of this is to sway the board that it might be best to keep midwives out of a hospital,” Ivey said, tapping away furiously on her tablet.
“Wrong again.” He leaned back. “My part in all of this is to remain objective and give an honest recommendation.”
And he would try like hell to remain objective, even if all he wanted to do was take her home and show her how much he’d missed her. Then do it all over again.
She arched a brow. “And you think you can do that?”
Maybe. Probably. Oh hell. No. “What part of ‘I’m not the enemy’ do you not understand?”
Ivey shook her head. “Sorry.”
“Dr. Allen Stewart.” She should know the name of her real enemy, and it wasn’t Jeff.
“Who?”
“He thinks the hiring of one midwife is the beginning of a long, slippery slope in which he ends up destitute on the side of the road.”
“He’s not any different than most doctors I’ve known.”
“How long have you been a midwife?” He changed the subject, hoping she wouldn’t notice he’d taken a tangent leading toward the personal. In the past, biology had never been her strong suit, unless you counted the time they’d spent in the bedroom.
“I worked as an apprentice midwife for Babs Holiday, and for the last two years I’ve been on my own.”
“Why not work as a home birth midwife?”
“I want to work in a hospital. We need to stop acting like doctors and midwives are mortal enemies and learn to work together.”
“It’s not going to be easy. And Stewart is a hard-ass.”
“So you don’t think I can handle him?”
“I didn’t say that.” Jeff didn’t like this little semi-friendly exchange. It was easier to keep the emotions bottled up and tamped down tight where they couldn’t bother him. Right now they were rising to the surface and annoying the hell out of him.
Just because he was lonely and couldn’t remember the last time he’d been laid, it was no reason to take up with the ex.
Ivey shut her tablet. “Why don’t we end for today?”
“Good idea. My shift starts in an hour, so I’m going to grab lunch.”
“Another long shift?”
“Yep.”
Right about now, Ivey would be counting her blessings that she hadn’t wound up with him. Maybe whoever she’d wound up with could give her more than two hours a day of his time. “At least you’ll know where to find me.”
“Right.” Ivey glanced up at him, the hint of a smile on her lips. “Will you be in the cafeteria? I mean, in case I need you. To ask you a question.”
“No, I won’t be in the cafeteria because that would be crazy.”
He’d be heading to Em’s. She made the most succulent pot roast he’d ever tasted, and he’d grown accustomed to the fact that a home-cooked meal waited for him every night he could make it to her kitchen before closing time. Even though there hadn’t been many of those nights lately.
“That bad, huh?”
He hesitated for a second, and then hormones won the day. Again. “You should come with me. I’ll show you the best place in town to eat.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “No, that’s all right.”
“What’s the big deal? We could catch up. Since we can’t speak about anything personal when we cross the threshold.”
Damn, he hated the fact that he wanted to be with her even for a few more minutes. Maybe some place where she’d loosen up a bit. This whole prairie woman look wasn’t the Ivey he remembered.
She clutched her tablet. “Why do we have to talk about anything personal?”
“We don’t. But we were friends first, and if nothing else we could be that again.” What the hell was wrong with him? This was Ivey. Ivey who left him right at the toughest time of his life. He should be pissed.
Except for the fact that what she’d said earlier had brought back an old memory he’d long buried. First year of med school he’d been drowning. He knew the stats for first year students. So did Ivey. The dropout rates were astronomical, and he couldn’t join those ranks. Not with how much his middle-class parents had sacrificed to help put him there. He and Ivey had managed a long-distance relationship for four ye
ars of pre-med, but that first year of med school she’d become unbearably clingy and needy.
So yeah, he’d told her he wanted a break. He hadn’t expected she’d listen so well. Interesting how he’d rewritten that in his mind, mostly because from the time she’d been sixteen Ivey had always been his, and he’d never expected that to change. He’d thought she might back off and let him breathe a bit. Let him come back to her, because he always would.
Hadn’t quite worked out that way.
“Friends? You and me?” Ivey asked.
Why the hell not? Stranger things had happened. He’d seen them firsthand in his ER.
Ivey and Jeff could not be buddies.
On the other hand, he was the only other member on the subcommittee, and he could exert a deep influence on the other doctors. Someone had put him there because they trusted his judgment. And if she wanted this to go well, it would be important to have Jeff on her side.
Like old times.
And he had asked her out to lunch. Not a date, just friends. He wanted to show her a decent place to eat near the hospital. Something he’d do for any colleague.
“Well, what do you say?” He was still waiting for an answer.
“All right,” she said, because she’d always had impulse control problems around him.
She hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t to walk. Still, she slipped her tablet in her bag and followed Jeff’s long strides. Across the street from the hospital and two blocks to the east stood a little diner Ivey remembered all too well.
“Mama’s Kitchen? I remember this place,” she said as he held open the door to the diner.
“Under new ownership. I heard that Em and her husband Si took over about three years ago. I’m a regular.”
Good thing the place was under new ownership because the old owner, Mr. Peterson, was a sixty-year-old man who hated kids. He’d inherited the place from his mother, the original Mama. The man hated teenagers in particular, and when she and Jeff used to come in here and sit at the booth in the corner, he would yell, “Let me see some daylight between you two!”
The aromatic smell of coffee, sizzling bacon, and burgers permeated the diner. No doubt about it, this place smelled like a mother’s kitchen should, as long as the mother didn’t care about cholesterol and calories.
“Hey, Si, would you look who’s here.” The woman who greeted them had short salt-and-pepper hair and earnest blue eyes.
A ponytailed man Ivey assumed was Si ducked his head through the kitchen partition, bumped it, and rubbed his forehead. “Damn this thing. What did you say?”
“I said your favorite doctor is here,” Em shouted back at his puzzled look, then waved him off. “Never mind. He can’t hear me back there.”
They followed Em to a booth, and before they sat down, Jeff introduced Ivey. “She used to come here also.”
“Ah.” Em leaned down and rubbed Ivey’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, dear. That blue ribbon is long since gone. You’ll find I’m apolitical in every way. I love everyone as long as they eat.”
When Em walked away, Ivey couldn’t help but ask. “What blue ribbon?”
The menu suddenly seemed of deep interest to Jeff, a man who by his account should have it memorized. “After we broke up, some of the business people in town took sides. Those who liked me hung blue ribbons in their establishment. Those who liked you put up pink ones.”
He looked so serious, and that’s what kept her from laughing. “Is that supposed to be a joke? I’d forgotten about your weird sense of humor.”
He continued reading the menu as if it were a medical journal. “Mr. Peterson put up a blue ribbon, but that was before Em bought the place. She took it down.”
“Aunt Lucy mentioned something about people taking sides, but I thought she was exaggerating as usual.” Blue and pink ribbons? Had the whole town gone mad together?
“How many pink ribbons were there?” It would be nice to know who her real friends were.
He met her eyes. “I didn’t count. I thought it was as ridiculous as you do.”
“But Mr. Peterson had a blue ribbon. He always liked you better.”
“You were the one who used to practically sit in my lap every time we were here.”
Ivey felt flushed at hearing the truth stated so matter-of-factly. Even if Jeff had never protested the seating arrangements. “Mr. Peterson was a misogynist.”
“Everyone’s over it now. But I wouldn’t go into the hardware store on Main Street.”
Ivey let out a deep sigh. Everyone had held it against her for leaving town for a man she met online, but it had turned out to be the best place to find a fake boyfriend.
Em came and took their orders. Without the menu, Jeff turned his full attention on Ivey. “So how’s lover boy? John, was it?”
“Joe.” Why couldn’t anyone get his name right? Even imaginary fictional characters deserved a little respect.
“Are you sure?” Jeff narrowed his eyes. “I’m pretty sure it was John.”
“Thanks, but I think I know the name of my ex-boyfriend better than you do.”
“Ex?”
Ivey played with the edge of her napkin. “It didn’t work out. Next subject.”
Why had she ever agreed to leave the sanctuary of the conference room where they’d agreed not to discuss personal stuff? It was a trick, and she should have seen it coming. Damn Jeff and his perfect build, smoldering eyes, and aesthetically pleasing jawline. If he didn’t stop talking about the past, she might be rearranging that perfect face so that he would need to see one of his colleagues for a little rhinoplasty.
Em brought out their burgers and sweet-potato fries. They’d both ordered the same thing.
“How are your parents? And your sister?” If he wanted to talk personal, two could play this game.
“My parents moved to Oregon a couple of years ago. They come down every year for the Grape Festival. Ali lives in town with her husband Bob and two kids.”
“Two?”
“Becky is four and Liam is two.”
Ivey took a gulp of water and swallowed hard. She should have never opened up this line of discussion. “So what about your love life?”
He gave her a long look. “What love life?”
“You asked about mine.”
“I don’t have one. The hospital is my significant other.”
“Ah, the life of a resident.”
“Only the highly tolerant need apply.”
While it was difficult to believe that someone who looked like Jeff didn’t have the nurses in a tizzy every day, it was possible that he’d try to keep his personal life and business separate. Though not likely.
“So what happens if the board decides against hiring a staff of midwives?” Jeff asked between bites.
“You mean after our subcommittee’s powerful recommendation that they do?”
He grinned and bit off a french fry. “Of course.”
“I suppose I don’t get the job.”
“And then what?”
She hadn’t thought that far ahead, having always been a fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants type. But she wanted to stay, despite the news of the pink versus blue ribbons. Maybe she’d find out who’d had a pink ribbon displayed and thank them for their support.
“I’ll find another job.”
“You won’t leave town again?”
“I won’t. Why would I?”
“I don’t know. You have a history of leaving when you don’t get your way. I break up with you, and you leave town.”
“Oh so you admit it now.”
“I remember saying I needed a break. I was trying to get through the first year of medical school. But I was already out of state, so I don’t see why you had to leave.”
Because then everyone would have seen her pregnant body, and in this town of blue and pink ribbons Jeff would have found out. The first person to see her throw up would have phoned him and probably given details as to where she’d been and what she’d ea
ten before she threw up.
“The reason I left town was because Joe was in LA, and long distance relationships don’t work.”
Jeff leaned back in his seat. “You mean John.”
Ivey resisted the urge to pound his gorgeous face and hit the table instead. “Joe, dammit.”
Jeff grinned. Fine, she’d let him have his fun. She still needed him to be on her side.
“We managed to have a long distance relationship.”
“And look how well that worked out.” Ivey picked up a french fry.
Jeff had a funny look on his face, his eyebrows arched and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“What’s so funny?” That’s when she realized she’d reached for a fry off of his plate instead of her own. Ack. She dropped the fry and drew back her hand like a snake had bit it.
“That’s all right. You can have my fries.” He pushed the plate in her direction. “Force of habit. The last time you and I ate together we…shared more than fries.” He gave her a wicked grin.
She pushed the plate back. “I don’t want your stupid fries.”
“C’mon Ivey, you know you want some.” He pushed it back in her direction.
She didn’t like that penetrating look in his eyes. The air between them charged and electrified. The overwhelming knowledge that despite everything, they weren’t quite done with each other.
But they had to be. Ivey pushed the plate back. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m done.”
And she had to remember that.
4
One week later, Ivey had quizzed Aunt Lucy thoroughly and found that the fabric store and the hair salon Lucy used to run both had pink ribbons displayed proudly for a time. Even the bookmobile (Ivey was a regular) had a pink ribbon. The vintners had fought hard to stay out of it.
Somehow Ivey recovered from the french-fry stealing incident in which her hand had subconsciously gone where it shouldn’t have. She couldn’t have that happen again. Couldn’t have her hand touch that gorgeous head of thick brown hair, or let it graze the stubbly jawline. No. Couldn’t have that.
Aunt Lucy’s screechy voice pulled Ivey from her thoughts. They were at the doctor’s office, and Lucy’s cast had been removed.
Starlight Hill: Complete collection 1-8 Page 3