by Megan Green
“Tell her I’ll be over tomorrow after my shift.”
“I’ll have her get the tea ready,” I say, hoping to dull his enthusiasm a little.
I should’ve known better though. Threats of a tea party with Hannah have always come across as more of a promise to Reese.
“Cool. But this time, I get the purple boa.”
I shake my head as I chuckle, finally dropping my attention back down to the food on my plate. My fish tacos are cold now, and I’ve only eaten a few bites of the rice. Signaling to the waitress, I ask for a box.
“A box? Really, dude? I didn’t realize this was a date and you were watching your girlish figure,” Reese chides as she walks away after handing me the Styrofoam container.
I flip him the bird. “Fuck off. I told you, I’m tired. I haven’t had much of an appetite today.”
“Right. The dog. So, how’s she doing?”
“Good,” I say, scooping the last of my rice and beans off my plate. “We had another follow-up this morning. The vet said she’s doing much better.” I lift my glass of water to my lips.
“You’re sure seeing a lot of this vet. She hot at least?”
His question causes me to choke on the liquid in my throat. I sputter, reaching for my napkin to cover my mouth as I try to catch my breath through my coughs.
Reese has a shit-eating grin on his face when I finally gain control of myself.
I lift my brows, trying my best to appear confused. “What?”
The grin doesn’t fade. “I see I struck a nerve there.”
I scoff, “Oh, please. I swallowed wrong. Don’t try to make this into something it’s not.”
“Okay,” he says, sounding entirely unconvinced. “So then, answer me. Is she hot?”
I try to appear indifferent, giving only a semi-shrug. “Meh. She’s all right.” The words burn as they come up my throat.
Madeline Woods is definitely more than all right. Hell, even with the few extra pounds she carried back in high school, she was beautiful. Slightly awkward but beautiful. But Maddy Woods at thirty, with all that hair and all those curves and confidence for days …
Fuck me. I’m failing spectacularly at this whole not thinking of her thing.
“Hmm,” Reese says, still warily eyeing me. “So, what’s next with the dog? She good to go now?”
I shake my head. “No, we’ve still got to go in for daily checks for the next little bit. Until her counts are normal and stay that way for a few days. Then, we’ll go to a few times a week. Then, once a week … and so forth until she’s finally in the clear.”
“Sounds like a lot of work.”
I nod. “It is. But Maddy says she’s already come along much quicker than she originally thought.”
“I see,” Reese replies, that giant smile back on his face. “It’s Maddy then, is it?”
Shit. “Yeah, the vet. She said we could call her Maddy.”
“Mmhmm. And you make it a habit of calling all your all right–looking doctors by their first names?”
I realize quickly I’m not going to get out of this one easily. So, I decide it’s best to go with the truth. Or at least part of it.
“She and I went to high school together,” I say as nonchalantly as possible, trying to sound as if the topic of my past with Maddy is as boring as discussing the weather.
Reese’s eyebrows shoot up. “And you haven’t mentioned this, why?”
“Because there’s nothing to mention. We went to the same high school. End of story.”
Reese smirks at me. “If that were all, you wouldn’t get that stupid look on your face every time you talk about her.”
I look down to the metal vase sitting between us, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever stupid face he’s talking about in the reflection. He points at me, letting out a loud laugh that tells me I’ve been caught.
“See! I knew it. You wouldn’t have had to look if you were making a face if there wasn’t more to tell. Now, spill it!”
Just then, my phone pings with a text from my mother.
Mom: Can you please stop and get some milk for me on your way to pick up Hannah?
“Oh no, Hannah fell and hurt her knee,” I say after reading the text. “I’ve got to go.”
I stand, throwing a twenty on the table as Reese stares at me. I know he doesn’t believe me, but I also know he won’t try to stop me if I mention his goddaughter.
Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
“This conversation isn’t over, Cooper!” he shouts as I turn and walk from the restaurant.
I give him a dismissive wave over my shoulder.
As far as I’m concerned, anything having to do with Maddy Woods is over.
Now, if only my brain would catch up.
8
Maddy
“Knock, knock,” Cami says, rapping lightly on my office door before swinging it open. She leans against the doorjamb, looking every bit as exhausted as I feel.
I drop my pen, pushing away from my desk and smiling at her. “You getting ready to head out?”
Cami yawns in response. “Yep,” she says, wiping away the wetness that formed in her eyes with her yawn. “Just wanted to check and see if you needed anything before I left.”
I shake my head. “Nah, you get out of here. I’m about finished with this, and then I’ll be following right behind ya.”
She thinks I mean, following her as in going home myself. But really, I just need to run over to Kent’s and grab some more mac and cheese and ramen. Maybe I’ll spring for a six-pack of beer this time, too. I don’t usually like to waste money on frivolous things like alcohol—every extra dollar I get goes right back into this place or into my savings account so that, someday, I might actually be able to quit lying to everyone and afford my own apartment—but after the day I’ve had, I think I might let myself indulge tonight.
As the only vet office actually within the city limits of Harts Creek, we get our fair share of emergency patients. It’s rare a day goes by that we don’t have at least one sick or injured animal show up without an appointment, creating a hectic shuffle in our schedule. It’s not something I mind, preferring to shift through the chaos than turn away someone needing help. But today, we had six, all of them coming in after lunch. I didn’t sit down once all afternoon until I collapsed in my office chair five minutes ago.
I push myself out of my chair, much to the chagrin of my aching feet. My body takes a second to loosen up, my bones feeling every inch of their thirty years—plus at least a dozen more.
Nodding toward the door, I smile at Cami. “Let me walk you out.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Cami protests. “You’re dead on your feet. Can’t the paperwork wait?”
It probably could, but it’s the excuse I always use as to why I never leave at the same time as Cami or Morgan each night. But then, I do have to run to the store. She’ll never know that I have to come back here afterward.
“You know what? You’re right. Let’s blow this Popsicle stand.”
Cami laughs, shaking her head at my saying. “Pretty sure I haven’t heard that one since my grandma died three years ago.”
I shrug. “What can I say? I’m an old soul.”
I pull off my coat and hang it over the back of my office chair before grabbing my bag from the bottom drawer of my desk. Cami hits the lights as we head toward the back door. She’s telling me about her epic plans for the evening—a bottle of wine and season three of Game of Thrones—when a blinking light catches my attention from my rear work table.
I stop, shifting my direction toward the table, deftly moving around the office furniture, even in the dimness of the room. Perk of hardly ever leaving this place: I can find my way around just from memory. Switching on my work lamp, I grab the little handheld game Hannah was playing with when she and Mason brought Hope in this morning.
My brow furrows as I turn it over in my hand. She was so excited about this game, sitting next to me as I ran H
ope’s blood work and showing me how it worked, her little voice talking so fast that I could barely keep up. I’d hate for her to miss it.
“What’s that?” Cami’s voice calls from behind me.
I turn, holding up the object in my hand. “Hannah’s game. I wonder if we should call and let them know she left it.”
Cami lifts a shoulder. “They’ll be back on Monday. I think she’ll survive without it for a day.”
Tomorrow is Sunday, meaning the clinic is closed, except for emergencies. It’s the first day since they found Hope that I won’t be seeing her. I gave Mason strict instructions to call if there was even the slightest hint that she might be relapsing. It’s also the first day I won’t be seeing Hannah, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit sad about it.
I shake my head. “No, she just got this. She’ll be heartbroken if she can’t play with it.”
Cami’s lips pull into a small smile. “Do you want me to get you Mason’s number?”
My eyes shoot up to hers in a panic. “No,” I sputter, not wanting her to read more into this than there is. I simply want to return the little girl’s game. This has nothing to do with Mason Cooper. “I think I’ll just drop it off. He said they live over on Washington. I need to stop at Kent’s anyway. It’s on the way.”
She lifts her brows, and I realize that reasoning doesn’t make me seem any less desperate than wanting his phone number. “You know where he lives?”
I shoot her a pointed look. “Like I said, he said they live in those townhomes over there.”
“And you’re just going to knock on random doors until you find them?”
“Of course not,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I, um … I might’ve noticed their apartment number on some of Hope’s paperwork.”
Might as well plaster a Hello, I’m a stalker sign on your damn forehead, you dumbass.
The way Cami’s eyes crinkle in the corners as she fights back a laugh lets me know just how much she believes I just so happened to “notice” their address.
“Right. Well, tell Hannah I said hi. And give Hope a kiss for me. See ya Monday, boss lady.”
“I’ll just leave it on the porch!” I shout as Cami turns and heads toward the back door.
She lets her giggle loose then, waving at me over her shoulder as she exits.
Good God, I really am pathetic.
I climb out of my car, pausing as I stare up at Mason’s front door. My heart hammers in my chest as I stand perfectly still, taking stock of everything that stands between me and that door.
You’re being ridiculous, I tell myself, trying to steady my breathing. Just go put the damn toy on the stoop and stop acting like you’re about to battle a horde of rabid raccoons.
Shaking out my arms, I inhale deeply before exhaling slowly.
You can do this. You. Can. Do. This. Nobody even has to know you’re here.
I take a step before I can change my mind.
I move slowly so as not to disturb the peaceful silence around me. A dog barks in the distance, causing me to flinch, and I halt, looking around me as if I’ve been caught.
Oh my God, Madeline. You’re a thirty-year-old veterinarian returning a lost toy. Not a thirteen-year-old who snuck out to egg the neighbor’s house.
Shaking my head, I quickly take the last few steps, bending over and depositing the game on the Welcome mat before turning and booking it back to my car. I’m halfway back down the walkway when I hear it.
A loud banging on the window sounds behind me, followed by muffled giggles from the other side of the glass. My head falls forward, my chin pressing into my chest as I hear the lock on the door flip.
The jig is up.
I spin slowly, trying to come up with a good excuse as to why I was leaving the toy and running. All rational thought flies from my head, however, when I see Mason Cooper standing in his doorway, the game I’d placed on the porch now resting in his hands.
A snort bursts from my nose, and I choke on air as laughter overtakes me. I start coughing violently, unable to catch my breath, my arms wrapping around my stomach as I double over, continuing this weird laugh-cough combination I can’t seem to shake.
Mason stands and watches me as I struggle, the unamused look on his face only causing me to break out in a new fit of giggles.
“You done?” he asks when I finally manage to inhale more than a swallow of air.
“What are you wearing?” I ask as I wipe away my tears. I can’t even remember the last time I laughed so hard that I actually cried.
Mason looks down at his ensemble. “Tea party attire,” he answers, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
And I suppose, in his world, it’s perfectly natural for a grown man to be wearing a pink feather boa, bright green clip-on earrings, and white satin gloves.
But from an outsider’s perspective …
I bust out laughing again.
Hannah appears on the doorstep then, a matching pink boa around her neck and a frilly pink tutu around her waist. She has a bejeweled tiara on her head, and her cheeks are rouged with bright pink circles.
“Dr. Maddy! Are you here to have tea with us?” she asks, practically vibrating with excitement. “Uncle Reese just left. You can have his seat!”
I look to Mason, and my face must be conveying my confusion because I know for a fact that he doesn’t have a brother.
“My buddy Reese. He and Hannah are thick as thieves. I’ve gotta say though, he doesn’t pull off the feathers nearly as well as I do,” he says, flipping the end of the boa over his shoulder with a flourish.
I chuckle. “That’s not hard to believe. You’re working that look.”
He pops his hip out, dramatically placing his hand on it before shaking his head back like he’s clearing hair out of his eyes. “Thank you, dah-ling. Now, please, come have a spot of tea.”
“Oh, I …” I start, realizing all too late that this whole thing has gotten away from me. “I should be go—”
“Come on, Dr. Maddy!” Hannah shouts, rushing out and grabbing me by the hand. She yanks on me with all her might, trying to get me to follow her into the house.
Mason comes out to join us, leaning close to me and whispering in my ear, “You might as well give in. She’s not letting you go anywhere until you come inside.”
A shiver runs down my spine at his proximity, the feel of his warm breath on my ear and the sound of his deep voice sending a shock straight to my core.
Jesus, Maddy. Pull yourself together. He’s wearing a feather boa, for Christ’s sake.
Mason turns, nodding toward the door with a smile and a wink. And just like that, I forget all the reasons I should be leaving.
I let Hannah pull me inside, my eyes connecting with Mason’s as I pass him. The door closes behind us, the sound breaking me out of whatever fog I fell into when Mason gave me that look. I jump slightly but quickly recover as I take in the room around me.
Dozens of pictures of Hannah adorn the walls, coffee table, entertainment center … basically every available surface. Mason is in some of them as well as a man I’m assuming is his friend Reese. There are pictures of Hannah at school, at the park, playing soccer, holding various trophies. But there’s one thing that’s exactly the same in each and every one of them.
The radiant smile on Hannah’s face.
Not a single picture seems staged. Not one smile looks forced. Dozens of memories surround me, and there’s one thing I can say for certain.
Hannah Cooper is happy.
It’s not lost on me that there’s no pictures of her with her mother. She’s noticeably absent from each monumental milestone of Hannah’s childhood.
But you’d never guess it based on the sheer and utter happiness of the child before me.
The words I spoke to Mason the day he agreed to care for Hope come back to me.
Mason Cooper is a good father. Not just good in the way a lot of fathers are, providing for their children and being there when t
hey need them.
Mason puts his daughter before everything, the way a father should. And he’s done a damn good job of making sure she hasn’t wanted for anything.
It’s a far cry from the type of father I “knew.” The type of man who walks away from his child and never looks back.
Hannah pulls me over to the corner of the living room, ripping my eyes from the photographs and me from my thoughts. I make a mental note to remind Mason exactly how much I admire him for the way he’s raising Hannah the next time we’re alone together.
He might’ve broken my heart once upon a time, but there’s no denying that he’s no longer that same immature boy. And I’ve been unfair to him since my return to Harts Creek.
Mason seems to read the thoughts on my face, giving me a warm smile as he pulls out a tiny chair at a child-sized table for me. “We’ll talk later,” he whispers so only I can hear before gently nudging me into the chair.
Hope bounds up beside me, a purple scarf tied around her neck. She jumps onto my lap, licking my face a few times before I can pull back.
“Hey, girl. It’s good to see you, too,” I say, scratching behind her ears.
She turns, so she’s facing toward the table and barks at Mason.
“Yeah, I see who you’ve got. You like Dr. Maddy, don’t you, girl?” he says, laughing at the grin on the dog’s face.
Hope barks once more before lying down across my thighs. A part of me melts inside as her chin comes to rest on my knee. “I’m pretty fond of her, too,” I say, giving her another scratch.
“I’m the one who walks her, feeds her, cleans up her damn shi—er, poop. And here I am, chopped liver.”
“Aww,” I say with a laugh. “Is someone jealous?” I lean forward and drop a kiss to the top of Hope’s head, causing her to turn and gaze at me with adoring eyes.
“Damn right I am,” Mason says with mock outrage. “Do you know what I have to do to get her to take all those meds you gave her? The things I’ve seen? You can’t come back from that sort of trauma. The least she could do is make me her favorite.”
“You are her favorite. After me and Hannah, of course.”