Dr. Ohhh

by Ana Sparks

  I saw my father almost immediately, looking somewhat gaunt, but the happiest I had ever seen him. I didn’t even think I’d seen him smile so much when my mom was alive.

  Overcome with emotion, I rushed towards my dad and allowed myself to be swept up into his arms. He sighed contently, brushing a hand through my hair as he drew back to consider me. As he looked me in the eye, all of the love I felt for him rose to the surface. I kissed him on the cheek, actually happy to see him.

  “It’s been so long. How are you?” I asked.

  “Oh, sweetheart. I’m so happy to see you. I just…” he trailed off, glancing over my shoulder.

  Owen stepped forward with Ron in his arms, gently waving our infant’s hand at my father. Tears welled up in my father’s eyes, and he touched his grandchild’s cheek as if he had never seen something so wonderful in his life.

  “This…this is baby Ronnie? And you must be Owen, right?” my father asked, never looking away from our son.

  Owen looked towards me for permission to let my father hold Ron. I nodded, watching with a grin that would not be contained as my father held his grandson for the first time.

  “That’s me, Mr. Madden. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Owen said earnestly.

  My father laughed, looking between the two of us as he gently bounced Ron.

  “I never thought I would thank someone for taking my daughter from me, but it took losing her to realize that all the ways I treated her was wrong. I thought what I was doing was in her best interests, but I see now that I was just being selfish. So, Owen, thank you. Thank you for giving my daughter the kind of life that she’s always wanted. Thank you for giving her the life she deserves,” he said fondly.

  Owen looked a bit taken aback, but he wasn’t nearly as shocked as I was.

  “It’s…not a problem, sir. I know you did what you thought was right in raising her—” Owen began, but my father laughed and cut him off.

  “But it wasn’t right. I realize that now,” he breathed, turning towards me with tears in his eyes. “My sweet child, I’ve missed you so much. I wish I could have just seen how unhappy I was making you,” he sniffled.

  I smiled, reaching out to brush a hand through my son’s hair. He burbled happily, reaching out to grip my fingers in his chubby little hand.

  “Dad, what you did was wrong, and I spent most of my life feeling like a glorified prisoner. But Owen made me realize that everything happens for a reason. I’ll always wish I had a childhood without an absentee father, and I wish Mom were here to see her grandchild. But…I guess what I’m saying is thank you, and I forgive you,” I said confidently.

  My father gently handed Ron over to Owen, pulling me into his arms and kissing me firmly on the forehead. For a moment, we simply stood there. It was a moment that I never could have anticipated, but reuniting with my father made me realize there was a chance we could really be a family again.

  “Come on, you three. My house isn’t that big, but there’s plenty of room for you to relax and stay a while. No more five-star restaurants, but I think this special occasion calls for ordering pizza,” he announced, grinning.

  I laughed tearfully, pulling the two men I loved most in for a big group hug. Ron whined and made bubbles with his saliva, and my father gazed at him for a moment.

  “Where did you get the name Ron, sweetheart?” he asked after a long moment.

  I hesitated, looking at Owen.

  “When I told Owen about Mom, he wanted to pay tribute to her, somehow. We had planned if we had a girl, we would name her Veronica, after mom. But, instead, we got little Ronnie. Do you think she would be proud?” I stammered.

  My father hesitated, looking skyward for a long second. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but after a long moment, he looked back at me with a grin.

  “Your mother would be honored. Now come on, let’s get to my house so we can enjoy our first family dinner!” he said, his voice heavy with emotion.

  Owen and my father walked ahead, with Owen carrying our son. Feeling curious, I glanced towards the sky in wonder of what my father might have seen. In the sky, there was a rather strange-looking cloud that almost looked like…the shape of an angel.

  Sniffling, I wiped a tear away.

  “Thanks for the sign, Mom. I love you,” I whispered.

  A breeze ruffled my hair, and I smiled to myself before jogging after my family.

  I couldn’t have imagined a happier ending if I’d tried.

  The End

  Do Me Doctor

  Layla Valentine

  Last, but by no means least, this doctor will do more than make you feel good

  Do Me Doctor is up next.

  I hope you enjoy!

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  Copyright 2017 by Layla Valentine

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.

  All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  The Bahamian sun was just beginning to sink over the edge of the horizon, and it was putting on one hell of a show. It painted the sky burnt orange and peach pink as it descended into the sea, making me pause to watch, even though I should have been finishing packing up for the day.

  “Hey, space cadet.”

  Startled, I turned to see Allison Bernard, the makeup and hair assistant, grinning up at me. She was barely over five feet tall to my five nine, so talking to her always made me feel like a giant. Still, she was the friendliest person I worked with, and I adored her.

  “Staring out into the abyss again?” She came up beside me and we both turned to look at the vanishing sun.

  I had a habit of zoning out at work, especially if we were shooting somewhere beautiful. And where was more beautiful than the Bahamas? Besides, part of being an assistant set designer was that I was meant to appreciate the set.

  “I'll never get tired of this sunset,” I said wistfully.

  “There's an even better view behind you.” Allison elbowed me playfully in the ribs. At least, it was meant for my ribs. She hit me in the stomach instead.

  I turned to see what she meant, only to immediately spin around again, my face flushing with heat. “I hope to God he didn't hear you,” I hissed.

  Allison chuckled and craned her neck to look at the tall, handsome man in the well-cut suit behind us. I bit the inside of my cheek so I wouldn't tell her not to be so obvious, but she was a grown woman and could check out whomever she pleased. Just because I got all awkward around Joel Lockhart didn't mean she had to follow my lead. Doctor Joel Lockhart, I reminded myself. As if I needed another reason to swoon over him.

  Allison turned away and sighed. “I hope that our next project needs a medical consultant on set. I could get used to having eye-candy like him around.”

  “Allison,” I said reproachfully. “He's not here for you to ogle.” I crossed my arms. “Besides, it's not like we're starved for good looking men around here. I mean, Damien is nothing to shake a stick at.”

  Allison flipped her long, dark braid over her shoulder as she turned to look at me, one eyebrow raised. “Damien? Ew. He's hot as hell, but couldn't be more a tool if he had a metal head. At least the good doctor is a nice person, as well as being easy on the eyes.”

  “Wouldn't know.” I shrugged. “I've never talked to either of them about anything other than work.”

  She prodded me again. “And that's exactly why you need to get out there more often. Come to
the after-party tonight. The doc never shows up to any of them, but you can have a go at Damien if you're really that keen.”

  “Can't tonight,” I said, although my answer probably would have been the same even if I wasn't actually busy. I loved my job and I loved the people I worked with, but I liked to spend my evenings quietly, unwinding in my hotel room. Especially when we were shooting in exotic locations that afforded me beach access to use at my leisure. “I've got to go pick up my sister from the airport.”

  “What? Really?” Allison frowned. “I didn't even know you had a sister.”

  I laughed. “A twin, actually. We don't see each other as often as we'd like. She lives in San Diego.”

  Allison turned to me with a look of disbelief. “Twin? Identical twin?”

  I nodded.

  “That's so cool! I have to meet her.”

  “Maybe another time,” I said with an apologetic smile, looking at my watch. “I should be heading out, or I'll be late.”

  Allison waved goodbye as I started picking my way up the beach towards the road.

  Today's location was one of my favorites so far. We were near the end of our six weeks of filming, and we only had one location left to film in, so it was probably safe to say this would take the cake for the best spot.

  I loved the beach. Any beach and every beach. When my department head told me that our next project would be a thriller shot partially in Nassau, it was like finding out I'd won the lottery without even having to buy a ticket. Maybe that was why Chelsea had decided to visit me. She'd always loved the beach, too, something that had vexed our mother to no end while we were growing up. Our auburn hair and fair skin made our love of soaking in the sun problematic, to say the least, but I had a cache of sunscreen back in my hotel room that would have made any dermatologist proud.

  Even though the air was slightly cooler than it had been during the day, it was still a relief to get into my rental car and turn on the air conditioning. Even if the temperature was similar, it was much more humid here than it was in L.A. I was still getting used to feeling constantly sticky, but I appreciated that the hot days led into balmy, warm nights.

  I couldn't wait to show Chelsea the island. I had a day off coming up, and I looked forward to taking her on a drive along the winding coast. Though our personalities clashed in many ways, I could always rely on our shared love of nature and anything involving sunshine and adventure to help re-establish our connection.

  I turned on the stereo and cheery pop tunes bopped through my speakers as I headed towards the airport. I didn't get a chance to drive around much when I was at home, plus, L.A. traffic was a nightmare at the best of times, so this was a welcome little journey. I still had no idea what had brought Chelsea out to see me, especially since she had never visited me on location before, but I was excited that she was coming. When was the last time I'd seen her? It was probably only about a month or so ago, but it felt like ages. San Diego wasn't exactly millions of miles away from L.A., but sometimes it felt like it.

  The airport was quiet and peaceful, just like the rest of the island. I loved that about the Bahamas. Even though the tourist beaches and attractions were often bustling with people, most places were mellow and serene. Nobody was in a hurry to get anywhere, even in the airport.

  I watched the arrivals screen and waited for her flight details to show up. Delayed. A fact which didn't surprise me. Even though I doubted Chelsea had anything to do with the lateness of her plane, it was characteristically her. She would probably be late to her own funeral.

  When the glass sliding doors finally whooshed open and my sister walked through, I beamed ecstatically and strode toward her with outstretched arms. She hooted with joy and sprang at me, nearly tackling me in a flying hug.

  “I'm so excited to see you!” she cooed. “How are you? How's work? How's your love life? Seeing any hot actors? Could you introduce me?”

  “Woah,” I said, holding her at arm's length. “One question at a time, if you wouldn't mind. I've had a long day.”

  She pulled a face. “Yikes. You're having job problems too?”

  “Job problems? Of course not.” I waved her off. “I love my job. It's just a lot of work.” I went to grab the rolling carry-on suitcase at her side and she swatted my hand away.

  “I can carry my own bags, Jeeves.”

  I shook my head, amused. “If you say so. I was just trying to help.”

  “You can help by telling me you bought the biggest bottle of wine in the whole country in anticipation of my arrival,” Chelsea declared, slinging an arm around my shoulder. “We've got so much to catch up on. I feel like I haven't seen you in forever.”

  We started walking toward the exit, and I was already fumbling in my purse for my keys.

  “Wait, you're having job problems?” I asked. “Is that why you're here?”

  “Oh, no, no,” she said quickly. “Nothing serious. I shouldn't have said anything at all. Don't worry about it.” We stepped out of the terminal and Chelsea released a deep sigh. “Is it always this hot? I sure hope so. I need to work on my tan.”

  I gave her a skeptical look; tanning had only ever achieved one outcome for both of us—more freckles. Sometimes I felt like I had a star map superimposed on my face, but for some reason, the same freckles on my twin looked cute and charming.

  We looked almost exactly the same, except for a couple of minute differences here and there—the way we parted our hair, the faint scar below Chelsea's lower lip from when she'd pierced it herself at sixteen. Our parents had lost their minds when they’d found out. Chelsea had lost her mind a week later when the piercing got infected and she’d had to take it out, leaving the tiniest imperfection on her otherwise perfect skin. I doubted anybody but Chelsea or I ever noticed it. Hell, Chelsea probably didn't even notice it. The only reason I did was because it was the only reminder I had sometimes that the girl staring back at me wasn't my own reflection.

  I opened up the trunk of the rental car, and Chelsea hesitated for just a moment before sliding her suitcase into it. Her mouth tightened when I closed the lid, which I found odd. But then she perked right back up again and slid into the passenger seat, already chatting my ear off about the plane ride over.

  “You should have seen the weirdo I sat beside. Or smelled her, more like. She had the smelliest feet. I'm going to need like ten showers before I get her smell out of my nose! Do you have a spare bedroom in your place, or are we going to have to share a bed? Not a problem, of course, but I'm just wondering if I'll have somewhere to store my things.”

  “I've got a couch,” I told her. “It's a one-bedroom suite, which you would have known if you'd called me more than ten minutes before getting on your plane.”

  Chelsea pouted at me over the center console. “Is it a crime to have the sudden urge to go see your estranged sister?”

  “We are not estranged,” I replied in a flat tone.

  “Feels like it sometimes.” She started fiddling with the radio, listening to a few seconds of one song before twisting the dial to find another. She knew that I hated it when she did that. “Does your hotel have a pool? And do you have a spare swimsuit? I'd kill just to submerge myself in cool water right now.”

  I raised my eyebrows incredulously. “You didn't bring a swimsuit? To the Bahamas?”

  Chelsea merely shrugged, shifting her cornflower blue gaze to the road ahead. “I figured I could just borrow one of yours or buy one when I got here. Mine are all ratty.”

  Ratty? Seriously? Last summer I'd seen her in a different swimsuit in almost every social media post. She had a penchant for bright colors and could hardly walk past a pretty bikini without being overcome with the urge to possess it.

  “I only brought one,” I said.

  “So boring!” she groaned. “I guess I'll go down to the market and grab one tomorrow. You’ll have to show me the best stalls!”

  So far, having Chelsea here was just as exhausting as every other time I had seen her. As per us
ual, her timing was terrible, and the coming week would be one of the busiest of the shoot. We would be wrapping up filming soon, so it was all hands on deck to make sure we were on schedule. That meant everyone was in overdrive, even though we were already running on empty. Being away from home for so long was draining.

  Being away from home with Chelsea looked likely to be more draining than anything else.

  I pulled into the hotel parking lot and led Chelsea up to my sixth floor suite.

  She chatted excitedly the whole way up about how thrilled she was to be there and how much she'd missed me. It was a bit over the top, even for her. What was up with her today?

  If something was on her mind, I figured she'd tell me, in time. Either that, or I'd figure it out. Being twins had its advantages and disadvantages, and one of the items that took up both categories was the uncanny ability Chelsea and I had for figuring out what was on each others' minds. It was great when I needed to know what was going through her head, but frustrating when I wanted to keep her out of mine.

  “So, this is it,” I said, swinging open the door to my suite to let her in. “It's small, but it's home for now. We can always get you another room if you don't want to live the couch life.”

  Chelsea waved me off. “God, no. This will do just fine.” She sat down on the couch, still holding the handle of her suitcase.

  “Do you want me to clear out some of my drawers for you?” I asked. “I've got a whole closet so—”

  “No, that's fine.” She smiled, but it was a strained smile. “How about that wine?” I narrowed my eyes at her. Now I was really curious about what her problem was.

  I walked to the little kitchenette and opened the fridge, revealing that I'd bought more than one bottle in anticipation of Chelsea's arrival. She smiled approvingly and I cracked open the first bottle, pouring out two glasses of white. I handed one glass to her before sinking down next to her on the couch.