Family Practice

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Family Practice Page 22

by Marisa Carroll


  She loved his smile. She loved him. She opened her mouth to say so but he beat her to it.

  “I love you, Callie. I want you in my life every day in practice, in partnership, in love.” He scrubbed his hand down his face. The stubble on his chin was a darker gold than his hair. “This isn’t the way I wanted to do this. I wanted to have candlelight and roses and champagne on ice when I asked you to marry me.”

  “Marry you?” She fought to get her emotions under control.

  “You will marry me?” It was half question, half demand. He was so close she could feel the heat of his body radiating out to her but still they didn’t touch.

  She opened her mouth to say yes but he put his fingers to her lips, still smiling, his blue eyes shining with love, reflecting the emotion in her own. “Hold that thought,” he said, “till we find a moment alone.”

  EPILOGUE

  “I DIDN’T THINK I would have to wait a week to do this,” Zach said as he slipped the diamond engagement ring onto her finger. “Will you marry me, Callie Layman, for better or worse?”

  “For better or worse and for always because I love you with all my heart,” she said.

  “That’s what I wanted to hear.” He lowered his head and kissed her, long and slow. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too,” she admitted when the kiss ended. “How can two people work together every day and never have a minute alone for themselves?” She laid her head against his chest and let herself be lost in the pleasure of listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart.

  It was Sunday again. The clinic had been a beehive of activity all week. Early season flu shots and the well-baby clinic they held the last Wednesday of each month had kept them all hopping. When she did have a free moment, Leola and Bonnie would pop into her office demanding the details of Karen’s broken wrist, the baby’s unexpected arrival and the terrible accident where Zach’s skill in the operating room had helped save lives. By Thursday Callie could report that all the injured teens were out of danger, even the boy with the most serious injuries, although he was facing a long and difficult recovery.

  On Monday, Callie had met with the Physician’s Committee and signed a three-year contract to become the clinic’s physician in charge. Ezra Colliflower had fussed and fumed at the amount of money the other members were willing to offer but Callie had held firm, insisting she wouldn’t accept less than she was due, and eventually he gave in. On Friday, Zach had met with Dr. Parsons to formally decline his offer of a partnership. Then he’d extended his commitment to the White Pine Lake Family Health Center for the same three years. They were stuck with each other, J.R. had said with a grin when she’d told him.

  The calendar had turned over to September without Callie even noticing. Tomorrow was Labor Day, the unofficial end of summer. There was already a bit of color in the leaves here and there along the roadway as she drove back and forth to the farm. Sunset came earlier and there was mist on the lake in the mornings. Fall was just around the corner and winter not too far away.

  She knew Zack was becoming frustrated at their unavoidable separation—so was she. She had spent her nights at the White Pine with the twins so that J.R. didn’t have to make the long drive from the Petoskey hospital, or with her mother, who still required help on the farm, although the Zimmer boys were caring for the goats and The Girls, for which Callie was grateful.

  Ginger and the baby, Jack Richard Layman III, now known as Trey, had come home from the hospital on Thursday when his weight reached six pounds. His naming had been quite the family conclave the evening before their discharge. Callie and the twins had been present, as well as her grandparents. J.R. Senior and Evelyn had arrived on Tuesday as promised and made the trip to Petoskey before they even unpacked their bags. Between Evelyn’s infatuation with the new baby and J.R. Senior’s insistence on spending as much time as possible with Miriam and Eno, who seemed to have gained in strength and vigor since his oldest friend had returned to town, Callie figured they wouldn’t be going back to Arizona anytime soon.

  The twins had picked out their favorite names and were vocal in promoting their choices. Brandon had wanted his brother named for his favorite Green Bay Packers quarterback. Becca had lobbied for the name of the hero of her beloved Crystal World books. J.R. and his father had both been adamant they would veto Jack Richard the Third if he was going to be saddled with the nickname Little Jack, or if either of them got tagged with Old J.R.—or, worse, her grandfather had grumbled, “Really Old J.R.” Ginger and Evelyn were just as adamant the tradition must be carried on. Callie, when asked to mediate, had thrown up her hands, laughing, and refused to be drawn into the fray, only suggesting that they could draw a name out of a hat. A suggestion that was met with little enthusiasm and pronounced a last resort.

  It was Becca who had come up with a solution. They could call him Trey. “It means three,” she said, coloring as six pairs of eyes had swiveled in her direction. “It’s a game they play in the Crystal World books. That’s where I learned the word. I looked it up.”

  “Why, Becca, honey, that’s a great idea. I like it. I like it a lot,” Ginger said, beaming as she looked down at the sleeping dark-haired baby in her arms. “Trey Layman. What do you think, J.R.?”

  “Jack Richard Layman the Third, from this day forward to be known as Trey. All in favor say ‘Aye!’”

  The vote was unanimous. The baby, still sleeping peacefully, did not have a say in the matter.

  Callie smiled, remembering the happy scene.

  “You haven’t fallen asleep on me, have you?” Zach asked, lifting her chin with the tip of one finger. “Most women who just got engaged wouldn’t be falling asleep.”

  “Um, no. I was just thinking about everything that’s happened this week. But since our relationship is going to be built on total honesty and complete trust, I’ll admit I could use a nap.”

  “An early night? I could go for that myself,” Zach said.

  “On the other hand, it’s so nice up here I kind of hate to leave just yet.” The small cupola room had been transformed into a romantic little hideaway complete with a table and chairs, champagne on ice, candles and a vase of roses. “Did you know about all this?” she asked as Zach handed her a glass of wine. Her engagement ring caught a flicker of candlelight and flashed fire to rival the fireworks being shot off out over the lake. She seldom wore jewelry but the ring on her finger didn’t feel alien at all; it felt just right. She would treasure Zach’s ring, and the love and commitment it represented, for the rest of her life.

  “I wish I could take credit for making this place so romantic, but it was Ginger and your grandmother who came up with the idea. They wouldn’t let me in on the details. They only said that I was not to give you the ring before tonight.” Zach took a swallow from his flute and made a face. “Too many bubbles.”

  “I think it’s a lovely wine.”

  “Your dad’s choice. I’m a beer man, remember. Mac was the procurement officer and your dad did the heavy lifting.” Her mother, stepmother, grandmother and dear old Mac knew of their engagement, but they hadn’t yet let anyone else in on the secret. Zach had insisted on asking her father formally for her hand. She should have thought it was an outdated, old-fashioned gesture, but she didn’t. She had considered it romantic and respectful, and it seemed to have cemented some kind of bond between the two men, which pleased her very much.

  “I’ll have to think of something nice for him as a thank-you.”

  “Your grandmother also told me if I had never seen To Catch a Thief then I had better get a copy of it ASAP.”

  “To Catch a Thief? You mean the Grace Kelly, Cary Grant diamond-heist movie where she wears that incredible gold silk gown with the hoopskirt to a masquerade ball?”

  “Leave it to a woman to remember the clothes. I think I was supposed to pick up on the scene
on the balcony where they are kissing and the fireworks are going off in the background...” He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face out over the lake. “Like those.” The Labor Day fireworks were just beginning. The first salvos sent showers of gold and silver sparks high into the black velvet night, an echoing boom following the blossom of fiery stars. If she looked down, she could see people watching from every vantage point along Lake Street, and the shoreline was dotted with campfires and lanterns in either direction. It had been a beautiful day and the weather had been perfect.

  “Ooh,” she said, laughing, “aah.”

  “Aah,” he said, nuzzling her neck.

  She turned in his arms, forgetting the fireworks. “I figured out the fireworks symbolism right away,” he said, his lips brushing hers. “Want to fade out of frame together?”

  It was tempting. But the family was all gathered on the porch, Ginger holding court with the new baby as friends and neighbors stopped by to offer their congratulations and ooh and aah over him, just like the fireworks. The consensus among people who remembered Callie when she was small was that he resembled her to a remarkable degree. That pleased her. “We should go back downstairs. They’ll be wondering about us.”

  “I’m proposing,” he said, all innocence. “It’s taking longer than I expected.”

  He kissed the side of her neck and she began to have second thoughts about vetoing the fade to black he’d just suggested. She sighed. “I think I hear the patter of little feet coming up the steps.”

  Zach lifted his head, a slight frown between his eyebrows that she longed to kiss away. “That’s not patter. Those are baby-elephant feet.” Sure enough, half a minute later Becca and Brandon appeared at the top of the cupola stairs, flashlights in hand.

  “What do the fireworks look like from up here?” Brandon demanded, squeezing by Callie to put his nose to the window. Becca followed more slowly, smiling at Callie and Zach, her eyes darting to Callie’s finger to check if there was a ring. The smile widened when she saw there was.

  “Wow,” Brandon yelled. “That is awesome. But they’re even better downstairs. And they’re a lot louder, too!”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Koslowski are here, and Ron and Gerry, too,” Becca informed them, “and Mac made chocolate cookies and Dad got ice cream.” Callie raised her eyebrows slightly in surprise. It was the first time Becca had called J.R. Dad. Becca noticed her reaction. “I’m calling him Dad from now on because otherwise it will confuse Trey,” she explained.

  “Excellent reasoning,” Callie said. She kept talking so that she didn’t start to cry. “What kind of ice cream?”

  “Black walnut for you. He said to tell you it’s starting to melt, so you two had better come down if you want some.”

  “Of course I want some.”

  “Never get between a hungry woman and her favorite flavor of ice cream,” Zach counseled Brandon.

  “I’ll remember that,” he said. These days, if Zach said the moon was blue and made of cheese, Brandon would agree with him. “Let’s all head downstairs to watch the grand finale from the porch.”

  “I’ll blow out the candles,” Becca offered.

  “I’ll shut the windows.” Brandon and J.R. had used silicone spray to tame the uncooperative mechanisms. Now they opened and shut with relative ease.

  “Dad and I are going fishing in the morning,” Brandon prattled on. “Want to come with us?”

  “Uh, I think I’m going to sleep in, buddy. I’ll take a rain check,” Zach said. He gave Callie’s hand a quick squeeze.

  “Okay. Hey! There are the guys. See ’em down there? Oh, cool, they have sparklers! Giant sparklers. They’re as long as my arm! Come on, Becca. We’re missing all the fun up here.” They took off clamoring down the stairs, flashlights bobbing ahead of them in the darkness, blowing out candles and closing windows forgotten in their rush to join their sparkler-wielding friends.

  “Definitely elephant feet,” Zach said, taking Callie in his arms once more. “How many of them do you want, by the way?”

  “Elephants?”

  “Pattering little feet,” he said, his eyes fixed on her face. She was suddenly breathless once more. They hadn’t discussed children, but she knew he wanted a family and so did she. “I think eight sounds about right.”

  “Eight children!”

  “Babies have two feet. Didn’t they teach you that in medical school, Dr. Layman? Not eight babies, although I think I’d be up to the task if I needed to be. Four children. Two of each sex would be nice.”

  She considered it a moment. “You can guarantee two of each?” she asked, never doubting for a moment that he probably would produce two sons and two daughters if he put his mind to it.

  “I’ll do my best,” he said, grinning wickedly.

  She laughed. She couldn’t help herself. “Why not? We’ll just follow our instincts. Isn’t that what you’ve been pestering me to do all along?” She smiled into his blue, blue eyes. It wouldn’t be easy balancing a medical practice and raising a family, but she came from hardy stock, as her grandmother would remind her quickly enough. She had learned a lot about herself these past couple of months. She was up to the challenge. And she didn’t have to do it alone. She had a partner. Zach would be a wonderful husband, a wonderful father. With his help and support, she would do fine. They would do fine. She was certain of it.

  “Shall I bring the champagne?” he asked as he shut the windows. “Everything else will be okay until morning and daylight.”

  “Absolutely. It would be a sin to let it go to waste. We’ll go down to the porch and show off my gorgeous ring and drink a toast to the future.”

  “A long and happy future,” he said, saluting her with his glass.

  “A long and happy future.” She picked up one of the candles to light their way, then bent her head and blew out the rest. She straightened, offering Zach her hand. He laced his fingers with hers, his grip strong and sure.

  “Let’s go,” he said. “The family’s waiting.”

  * * * * *

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  ISBN: 9781460316245

  Copyright © 2013 by Carol I. Wagner and Marian L. Franz

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