by Pat Simmons
Shae’s jaw dropped. She stopped fussing with her daughter as she tried to put Sabrina in her sweater and cap. “You’re kidding me. Out of all the sisters, you were the only one with a clean record, and you’ve lived in three states.” She paused. “I’m sorry, Sis. It’s no wonder, though, considering the week you had. That was the reason we went shopping in the first place.” Brecee’s eyes misted as they strolled out of the sanctuary.
She didn’t want to think about the three children who hadn’t survived a house fire, or the child who had been severely beaten and later died. She tried to leave those images at Cardinal Glennon Hospital, where she worked.
“I tried my best to get out of it.” She shrugged as they walked across the parking lot. “The sexy smile thing is overrated. The officer didn’t fall for it. Besides, it hasn’t work for me in years. Throwing out your name didn’t help, either. All he said was, 'You do look like Shae Maxwell. I can tell you’re sisters. She’s my favorite anchor...blah, blah, blah,’ and kept writing the ticket. He even had the nerve to mention that Rahn is starting off the season hot.” Shae grinned. “That’s my baby. I can’t wait for him to come home.”
“Excuse me,” Brecee huffed. “This is about my crisis.”
“Oh, yeah.” Shae grimaced. “Sorry.”
When they reached Shae’s SUV, Brecee helped her to secure Sabrina into the car seat before heading off to her Lexus. Since Rahn was on the road, and Shae now worked only two Sundays a month, the sisters would spend the day together. This day, they were eating lunch at Brecee’s.
Paranoid about being issued another ticket, Brecee drove more carefully than ever as she exited onto I-70 eastbound to head through downtown and on to her Lafayette Park neighborhood in South St. Louis. Shae was not far behind her.
Fifteen minutes later, they parked along the curb in front of the immaculate three-story brownstone where Brecee’s condo occupied the entire second floor. Once inside, Brecee brought out her portable playpen with toys for Sabrina, then got to work warming up their dinner of roast beef, garlic mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables while Shae prepared a salad.
Brecee was setting the table when she heard Shae’s cell phone play the familiar ringtone assigned to Rahn. Although Brecee knew better than to eavesdrop, she couldn’t help it. She was so happy that her sister had found love again after a disastrous relationship. Brecee was a romantic at heart, and she had a cabinet filled with DVDs to prove it.
“Yes, babe,” Shae was saying. “Sabrina and I are at Brecee’s, and we’re about to eat.” She giggled at something Rahn said. “I’ll tell her.” A pause. “I miss you like crazy, too.” Silence, then more giggles.
Having heard enough, Brecee went to check on her niece in the next room. When her stomach growled, Brecee walked back in the kitchen, jammed her fist on her hip, and cleared her throat. “Are we eating today or next week? Tell my brother-in-law hi, by the way.”
“Brecee says hi, honey.” More giggles. “I love you, too. Be safe.” After a couple of air kisses, Shae finally ended the call. Then, sighing wistfully, she grinned, and her eyes sparkled.
Shaking her head, Brecee playfully scrunched her nose at her sister. “You and Mr. Maxwell had a whole lot of giggling going on.”
Shae blushed. “What can I say? I’m married, so he can talk naughty to me all he wants when he’s on the road.” She went to get her daughter.
Once they were seated at the dining room table, they blessed their food before digging in.
“Mmm,” Shae moaned after one taste of the mashed potatoes. “Girl, you always could throw down on these.” She smacked her lips.
They chatted about family, Rahn, the newsroom, and Rahn, before Shae finally asked, “So, what are you going to do about your ticket?”
It was a no-brainer. “Girl, I’m going to court to fight it.”
“Uh, Brecee? I don’t think that’s a good idea. You might wind up saying something and be held in contempt. Why don’t we talk to Shari? She is the attorney in the family, after all. I’m sure her advice will be to let a lawyer handle it.”
“You know I was considering a career in law at one point,” Brecee reminded her. “I was on the debate team—”
“You’re a doctor now, Brecee. Why don’t you play doctor and let someone else play attorney? You know I’m right. I have no problem getting our sisters on conference call, and you know a vote would overrule your idea.”
“All right.” Brecee rolled her eyes. It was probably for the best. She could see herself getting her terms confused and ending up a laughingstock.
Her mind flashed to the rude guy from the restaurant. “Oh, girl, I didn’t tell you that after I got the ticket, I headed to St. Louis Bread Company for some comfort food. You know how my week was, and that ticket just did something to me. Once I started crying, all the tears I had stored up over any little thing fell. As I sat in my car, minding my own business with my own pity party, this guy inside the restaurant saw me crying. Once he verified that I wasn’t suicidal, he howled.”
“He what?” Shae twisted her lips and narrowed her eyes, clearly curious. Once Brecee had replayed the conversation for her, Shae dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “So, how did he look? Cute? Ugly? Skinny...you know?”
“Let’s just say he had a dark chocolate skin like Philly native actor Kevin Moore, with a smile like actor Omari Hardwick and a body and a slight dimple like football player Will Demps.”
“All that in one, huh?” Fanning her face, Shae winked. “Whew. I see you gave attention to detail. Sounds like eye candy...and a jerk. Too bad. It seems finding the right combination in a man is a problem.”
Brecee agreed, and she was grateful when they switched subjects to other things that didn’t remind her about her lack of a man to make her giggle and blush.
Chapter Three
A
drian was a good guy. His mother told him that all the time, and so did every lady who tried to snag him. So why did he tarnish his reputation with an unknown woman at the St. Louis Bread Company?
That was out of character for him; but even now, Adrian tried to keep a straight face as he recounted the scene to his older cousin Dolan Cole. It was Sunday afternoon, and Adrian had stopped by Dolan’s on his way home from the library, where he’d met with three classmates to update one another on what they’d done for their group project.
The two were very close, likely because most of their other family members lived in either Detroit or Oklahoma City. Plus, they both were only children.
As far as looks went, they were both buffed rather handsomely, taking after their mothers. And they had inherited light brown eyes from their paternal great-great grandfather, Marshall Cole—a contrast with their dark skin.
Adrian had always taken a laid-back approach to life. With an “I got this” attitude, he didn’t lack confidence. He made a game plan and stuck to it.
When Dolan had graduated college, Adrian had become a success story on his job and had felt that an education could wait until he eventually enrolled part-time. Then, his cousin had thrown caution to the wind and married his college sweetheart, leaving Adrian solo in his bachelor status. When Dolan’s daughter, Laura, had come along two years later, Adrian had been no closer to finding a sweetheart of his own.
“I agree that I could have handled the situation better with the doctor, but it was like a punch line to a joke. I wasn’t expecting all that drama for a ticket.” Adrian chuckled. “It’s good I didn’t have anything in my mouth, because I would have sprayed her down like a sprinkler.”
Dolan shook his head. He didn’t seem amused. Leave it to his ever-serious cousin to find nothing funny about what had happened. Adrian thought that if he were to post a video of the encounter on social media, it would probably go viral. Or maybe he was exaggerating. Anyway, he tried to keep his personal life private and use social media for business purposes only.
“If this woman is as beautiful as you say, then you blew your chances if you were trying
to hit on her,” Dolan said with a pointed stare.
Maybe he would have been, if he had room in his schedule for a social life. But, between work and graduate school, Adrian didn’t have time for romance.
Just then, seven-year-old Laura entered the room. Her bottom lip was puckered. Something was definitely wrong.
“Excuse me, Daddy. I can’t find Holly’s shoes.” She flopped down next to her father, snuggled under his arm, and whimpered as if it was a major catastrophe.
“Who’s Holly?” Adrian asked.
“Her doll,” Dolan replied. He kissed the top of Laura’s full head of hair. Too bad Dolan hadn't mastered how to comb it.
Laura’s soulful brown eyes could melt a person’s heart, and her wide smile, albeit with missing teeth, was contagious. The girl definitely took after her mother. “I found Holly and some of your other dolls on the bathroom floor again, so I put them in your toy box,” Dolan said. “Remember what I told you about leaving your toys everywhere?”
She nodded.
“Next time, I just may give them away to another little girl who wants them,” he added, sternly yet gently.
“No, Daddy!” Laura jumped up. “I’ll be more careful.” She gave him a kiss, then bestowed some affection on Adrian before skipping away.
Dolan had his parenting skills down pat. “You have the patience of a mother,” Adrian told him.
Dolan grunted, shifting in his seat. He was always uncomfortable when it came to receiving compliments about the job he was doing as a single dad, continually questioning his balance between discipline and love.
“Do I have a choice?” he finally asked.
Both men were quiet for a moment.
Then Dolan shook his head. “Who could have known Denise would have an aneurysm at twenty-eight? Twenty-eight! She gave me Laura. Every day, I learn something new, like how to be sensitive to what’s important in my little girl’s life. One day, she’ll be a grown woman, and I want her to know how a man should treat her.”
Adrian looked away. Was his cousin indirectly calling him out? “Thanks for making me feel lower than low with the doctor. I guess I owe her an apology.” He stood. “I guess I'd better head home. I still have that paper to write, and I have clients coming in this week.”
“All right, Mr. Car Salesman.” Dolan grinned as he got to his feet and gave him a hug.
“Man, I’m not going to let you get on my bad side,” Adrian told him. “How long have I been a transportation problem solver, and you still don’t have it right? And we can match salaries any day.”
“The comparison’s hardly fair,” Dolan protested. “You don’t have the additional expenses of a significant other or a daughter or after-school childcare or school tuition.”
Adrian held up his hand. “I get your point. I’m sure I’ll get to that place in life—later.”
As Adrian drove home, the doctor’s face flashed in his memory. If it wasn’t for her lab coat, he wouldn’t know how to find her. But a quick glance at the emblem had given him her name. Minutes after arriving at his Maryland Heights condo, he went online and Googled her. She was a pediatrician at Cardinal Glennon Children's Hospital, according to its Web site. And her Facebook profile picture was stunning.
If Adrian were in the market for a woman, she would be his first choice. He’d been a fool to laugh at her predicament. He owed her an apology, if for no other reason than to leave an open door for a future business transition. So, he texted the florist that his car dealership routinely used for special occasions and ordered flowers to be delivered the next day.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. “Conscience cleared.”
“How beautiful!” Brecee practically kissed the flowers exploding from the purple and yellow ceramic vase on the front desk as she strolled into the emergency department at noon on Monday just before her shift.
“They’re for you.” the receptionist, Veda, grinned mischievously.
“Me?” Blinking, Brecee patted her chest. “Seriously?”
When her coworker nodded, Brecee began to rack her brain, wondering who would have sent them. Any dates that her brother-in-law had set up for her with colleagues or other professional acquaintances of his had fizzled. She came up with nothing, so she gave in, reaching for the envelope and sliding out the card.
Our chance meeting got off to a poor start. I’m sorry I found amusement in your discomfort. That was not my intention. Can I make it up to you? Breakfast at the same bread company, or at another place of your choosing?
—Adrian Cole
He'd included his phone number.
“Memory refreshed now?” Veda teased.
“Yep.” Brecee didn’t say anything more as she stuck the card back in the plastic holder and dropped it in her purse. “It is okay if I leave the flowers here until my shift ends?”
“Of course! I’m a divorced mother of three....” Veda rolled her neck. “I can pretend that someone sent them to me. They'll be safe here, Doc.”
Veda seemed always content and in good spirits. By now, Brecee should have stopped being surprised by all the baptized believers the Lord had placed in her path. God knew that Christians needed moral support now more than ever before.
Smiling, Brecee continued through the door toward the nurses’ station. Adrian’s note had reminded her of the latest development in the saga of her first-ever ticket.
While Shae was still visiting her on Sunday afternoon, they’d had a phone chat with their two older sisters in Philly. Of course, big-mouth Shae had told Stacy and Shari what had happened, and then Shari, a criminal defense attorney, had encouraged Brecee to check out the National Minority Bar Association Directory.
As the baby of the family, Brecee had always accused her sisters of bullying her. But, as she’d gotten older, she’d come to understand that they had her back. “Fine,” Brecee had agreed. Ashley, the charge nurse, looked up as Brecee signed her name to the board to let everyone know she had arrived and was on duty. Brecee glanced at the names of the other attending doctors on shift who were supervising residents, and saw that her colleague Dr. Regina Reed, a good friend and also a sister in Christ, was back from vacation.
Once the charge nurse had briefed her on the number of patients waiting in the examining rooms and their symptoms, she went to the doctors’ charting room, where they reviewed patients’ notes and files.
Regina stood with a smile.
“Welcome back, stranger,” Brecee greeted her. “How was your vacation after the medical conference?”
“Miami was fine. I didn’t want to come back.”
Brecee thought of Regina as the baby sister she never had. They were so much alike in mannerisms and appearance that many people thought they were related, but Regina had an edge. She had killer dimples, like Brecee’s sister Shari.
“I’m guessing you saw that gorgeous bouquet in the waiting area,” Regina said with a smirk. “What have you been up to in my absence? I was gone just seven days.” She folded her arms, waiting for the scoop.
Laughing, Brecee got situated at the table and opened the first patient file. Some people could be ignored, but Regina wasn’t one of them. The two of them often joked that with her gift of subtle hounding, Regina could convince an innocent person to confess his guilt.
“I can't believe you waited until I was gone to go out on a date,” she added with a pout. “Which doctor this time?”
Brecee shrugged. “No doctor. Just a jerk.”
“Mmm-hmm. A jerk with good taste. I want to hear all about him.”
Regina’s demand had to be put on hold as the Monday madhouse began. Brecee left to check on the status of a four-year-old girl who had been hit by a car, then went to confer with a resident on treatment options. Next, she was pulled away to take one call after another.
Since Cardinal Glennon was a level 1 Pediatric Trauma Center, she had to facilitate the transfer of patients from neighboring hospitals who had been admitted over the weekend.
A
lthough Brecee specialized in pediatric emergency medicine and was certified in advanced trauma life support and pediatric advanced life support, she always prayed for God to use her to save a child’s life, knowing that without His aid, human methods of treatment failed.
The day got so busy that she had to skip dinner. By the time her shift ended, Brecee had treated five head injuries, four of which had required emergency surgery.
On the way out the door, she glanced at the floral arrangement waiting for her. The blossoms seemed to brighten the waiting room.
As she was about to grab them, another doctor pulled her into a conversation; and then, before she knew it, Brecee had walked outside and was standing at her car.
Too tired to retrace her steps inside, she got behind the wheel and drove off. She would have to get the flowers tomorrow. Calling Mr. Cole would have to wait, too.
Chapter Four
W
omen. Evidently, Adrian’s apology had not been accepted, judging by Dr. Carmen's failure to call. In spite of her snub, he'd had a pleasant, productive day at the dealership, forging relationships with several associates of a longtime client who was the CEO of a pharmaceutical firm.
With a few more verbal commitments, Adrian could finish another month strong.
The casual, low-key demeanor he’d always adopted toward his customers always seemed to work. That was Adrian’s personality. He was methodical in his thinking and meticulous in his approach, but that was before Dr. Brecee Carmen. It was as if his suave demeanor had expired.
He dismissed the memory of his olive-branch gesture as he entered his condo. The selling point of the two-story unit had been the balcony off one of the two upstairs bedrooms.
His place was mostly spacious, except for the kitchen—with only a bar counter area for eating, it wasn’t family-friendly. Yet, it worked for him.
In the kitchen, Adrian unwrapped the leftovers of the lunch he had purchased from the Dierbergs grocery store near the dealership. He quickly arranged the slice of turkey and vegetable medley on a plate, and popped it in the microwave. While he waited for it to reheat, he stretched out on the sofa and stared at the fireplace that was demanding a cleaning after a severely cold winter.