Mac’s Bedside Manner

by Marie Ferrarella

  She dropped her hand into her lap, feeling as if there was a current still dancing through her arm. She wondered if he was wearing something with metal on it and was conducting electricity without her knowing it. She could have sworn she saw lightning flashing a second ago.

  “Yes.”

  With a laugh, he nodded his approval. “Nice to know someone in your family has a social life.”

  Her eyes narrowed into accusing slits. “My social life isn’t any business of yours.”

  Yet, he thought. “Looks like it isn’t any business of yours, either.”

  That did it. She’d rather put up with the monsoon than the likes of him. Turning away from MacKenzie, she opened the passenger door.

  Reacting quickly, Mac caught her arm, pulling her back. “What are you doing?”

  Her tone reverted to its former icy state. “Getting out to wait by my car for the tow truck.”

  She had to be crazy. And he had to be the same for arguing with her. “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s raining harder than ever.”

  She tugged hard, but there was no getting free of his grip unless he wanted her to be. She glared at him. “I noticed.”

  His hold loosened slightly, but not enough for her to be able to pull free. “Why don’t we call a truce? You stop trying to slice me up with that tongue of yours and I’ll behave.”

  She sincerely doubted that he even knew the meaning of the word, but given the circumstances, she had no choice. Reluctantly she slipped her free hand into the one he was offering. And prayed that the tow truck driver hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d promised that he would be “right there.”

  “Truce,” she muttered.

  And they were off to a flying start, Mac thought as he echoed, “Truce.”

  Chapter Five

  Jolene gave serious thought to calling a cab once the tow truck had arrived to take away her wounded car. But she was already running late and the last thing Jolene wanted was for her mother to have to change her plans because of her.

  So after she signed the necessary paper for the tow truck driver, she allowed Mac to drive her to her mother’s, hating the fact that she was now solidly in his debt.

  “Not very talkative, are you?” Mac observed as they got back on the road.

  In response, Jolene leaned forward in her seat and turned on the radio. She wanted to fill the air with something other than awkward silence, or worse, awkward conversation.

  An amused smile played on Mac’s lips. He kept his eyes on the road as she hunted through the stations for one that was acceptable to her.

  “Music lover?”

  “Something like that.” She actually did love music. It helped ease the tension of uncomfortable moments. And right now, this had the makings of a very long uncomfortable moment.

  “I like all kinds of music,” he told her. She’d already gone through several oldies’ stations, as well as two country western ones without pausing for more than a couple of seconds. “As long as it’s not opera.”

  Irritation had her asking, “What do you have against opera?”

  Had he struck a sensitive note? Was she an opera buff? Somehow, he thought not. Mac had a sneaking suspicion that if he said the sky was pitch-black right now, which it was, she would say it was light.

  He shrugged absently. “Nothing, just don’t care to have people singing at the top of their lungs at me, that’s all.”

  They had that in common, though she wasn’t about to tell him. Jolene came to a familiar station. Soft, bluesy music filled the car, elbowing its way into the tension. “How do you feel about jazz?”

  He smiled as he recognized the piece. “Jazz is good.” He slanted a look in her direction for half a beat, wondering if she’d change the station just to be obstinate. “I like jazz.”

  She left the station set where it was.

  So much for being able to second-guess her, he mused. Easing the car onto the freeway, he worked his way past the knot of cars in the first three lanes and into the carpool lane. Unlike the others, it was relatively uncluttered.

  In comparison to the rest of the vehicles in the other lanes, they fairly flew, their progress marked in part by an extra long version of “Cold Duck.” It made the time pass if not nicely, at least quickly.

  “Make a left right at the next light,” Jolene instructed as they got off the freeway.

  “She speaks,” Mac quipped. “I was beginning to think you’d gone mute.”

  She felt color creeping up her neck and told herself there was no reason for it. It kept creeping. “Just don’t see the point in empty conversation, that’s all. There, turn there.” She pointed at the light that was about to turn red.

  Stepping on the gas, Mac made it through the light with less than half a second to spare. “The point of ‘empty conversation’ is to fill it intelligently and learn about the other person.”

  “I know all I want to know about you.”

  “Yes, she definitely speaks,” he said under his breath, though intentionally loud enough for Jolene to hear.

  Her mother’s house was located on a tree-lined street within the heart of a development that was less than a quarter mile from the freeway.

  Zigzagging down small streets, Mac finally came to a stop before the single-story building.

  Jolene let out a long breath. They were here. Thank God.

  “All right, this is it. Thank you,” she said stiffly. To her surprise, as she unbuckled her seat belt, Mac turned off the engine. She looked at him, not allowing her thoughts to go any further. “What are you doing?”

  He hit the release on his seat belt. The strap eased back. “Turning off the engine.”

  Hand on the door handle, Jolene remained where she was. “I know that. Why?”

  She really was tense, he thought. It was a completely new experience for him. He’d never had a woman react to him this way before. Just what was it that she expected him to do?

  “Relax, I’m not trying to extract payment, I’m coming in with you.”

  Jolene didn’t budge. Neither did the suspicion in her eyes. “Why?”

  “Because,” Mac told her patiently, “I’m cold and wet and I’d rather wait for you inside the house.” The rain had abated only slightly, but it was enough to provide a little visibility that extended beyond three feet. Looking past Jolene’s head at the house, he thought he saw someone in one of the windows.

  Jolene stared at him. “Wait for me?”

  Reaching up, he turned on the overhead light. Beneath the bravado, Jolene looked a little uneasy. “You’re going to need a ride home, aren’t you?” Mac asked.

  She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She’d just wanted to get here. And away from him. “My mother can drop me off.”

  “Your mother’s got a date, remember?”

  She’d forgotten about that. Terrific, Murphy’s Law had made another annoying appearance in her life. But now that she was here, it didn’t matter if she had to wait. She could call a cab. “I don’t want to put you to any more trouble.”

  “Very thoughtful of you, but I don’t mind.”

  She blew out a breath, frustrated. All right, what did it matter? She’d tell him the truth. “I’d also rather you didn’t know where I lived.”

  “I’ll keep my eyes closed the whole way,” he quipped. And then his smile sobered just a little. “Listen, Jolene, if I wanted to know where you lived, I could have easily found out by now. Keeping your address under wraps is not exactly a matter of national security.” She was wasting both his time and hers by arguing. “Now stop being ridiculously stubborn and let’s get out of the car.”

  Now he was insulting her? “I’m not being ridiculously stubborn—”

  The woman definitely knew how to push his buttons.

  His tone was even, but he wasn’t sure how long he could maintain that. “Fine, fill in your own adjective, but you are being stubborn.” Mac got out on his side and quickly hurried up the driveway to the small house.

&
nbsp; Stunned, Jolene watched him for a moment. What did he think he was doing? He had no business knocking on her mother’s door, especially without her.

  “The man’s insane,” she muttered. “Hey!” she called after him, but he didn’t stop until he reached the shelter of the front door and the roof that jutted protectively out over it. “Hey!”

  Exasperated, Jolene got out of the vehicle, slamming the passenger door loudly behind her, and ran up the walk after him.

  Mac was already ringing the bell.

  “It doesn’t work,” she informed him, taking out her key.

  The front door opened just as she was about to put her key in the lock. Her mother had been watching at the window, Jolene guessed.

  A woman that looked like a slightly taller, slightly older version of Jolene stood in the doorway. Curiosity was in her bright-blue eyes as they swept over Mac. It was evident that she liked what she saw.

  Relief was still settling in. Erika DeLuca had spent the last hour worrying about her daughter. Grown woman or not, she didn’t like Jolene traveling around in this kind of weather. Too many accidents.

  But it looked as if, at least from appearances, her daughter had struck gold.

  “What are you yelling about, Jo? They could probably hear you clear down the block.” Erika’s expression brightened as she smiled at Mac. “Hello, I’m Erika DeLuca, Jolene’s mother. And you are?”

  They were on the cusp of a replay of the Great Deluge and her mother was playing matchmaker. “Wet, Mother,” Jolene told her tersely. “He’s wet, I’m wet, we’re wet. Hold onto the introductions until we get inside.”

  Erika stepped back, opening the door wider. “Sorry about that.” The apology was to Mac.

  Walking in, Mac grinned at the older woman. “Snaps your head off, too, does she?”

  Erika nodded as she closed the door behind them. The wind was beginning to pick up again, baying mournfully like a lone coyote.

  “Oh, all the time. Been that way ever since she was a little girl.” Erika took an instant liking to the man who had brought her daughter to her door. “I think it was because I didn’t breast-feed her.”

  Jolene swung around, horrified at the intimate tidbit her mother’d just shared as if she were reciting the latest Dow Jones quote. “Mother!”

  Erika looked unfazed. “Sorry.” The word was directed to Mac again, not her daughter. “I embarrass her a lot. She has trouble with my being open.”

  Why was her mother doing this to her? Had she forgotten what Matt had been like? What he was undoubtedly still like? Charming to the nth degree. Harrison MacKenzie could have been her ex-husband’s clone.

  “I have trouble with you talking to strangers, Mother,” she informed her sternly.

  Erika looked at her with wide eyes. Mac had a feeling there was a very sharp lady under that innocent expression. “He’s not a stranger, dear. He drove you here. You must have talked in the car.”

  “Actually,” Mac interjected, “she played music.”

  Erika nodded. The information didn’t surprise her. “She does that when she’s trying to avoid things.”

  Given half a chance, her mother would probably launch into potty training stories next. Well, she wasn’t about to give her that chance. Jolene stepped in between her mother and Mac, ignoring the fact for a second that the movement brought her closer to Mac.

  “Mother, don’t you have a date to get ready for?”

  Erika gave no indication that she was about to retreat anytime soon. Her smile widened as she looked at Mac. “Yes, but men don’t mind being kept waiting if it’s worth it.”

  Turning, she winked at Jolene.

  The latter wished she had the ability to disappear at will. That not being a possibility, she turned to the only ammunition she had left with which to distract her mother. “How’s Amanda?”

  The grandmother and nurse in Erika took center stage. “Still fussing, but her fever’s gone, thank goodness. I think the worst of it is over.” That said, she turned her attention back to Mac. “So, tell me, do you work with my daughter?”

  Mac grinned and glanced toward Jolene before answering. “I try to.”

  God, she could just see the two of them huddled over in a corner, talking like old friends. Or conspirators. What was her mother thinking? “Mother, don’t encourage him.”

  Erika was nothing if not honest. “Why not? From where I’m standing, he looks worth the trouble.”

  Mac’s eyes danced as he turned them on Jolene. “Why aren’t you more like your mother?”

  A frustrated, near guttural and totally unintelligible sound escaped Jolene’s lips. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see my daughter.” With that, she strode out of the living room and down the small hall.

  Mac extended his hand to the older woman. “Jolene didn’t get around to saying it, but I’m Dr. Harrison MacKenzie.”

  Erika slipped her hand into his. Strong, firm grip. Said a lot about a man, she thought. None of this light, perfunctory stuff. He wasn’t afraid to meet a woman halfway. She liked that.

  Her eyes became a touch more serious as she dropped her hand to her side. “You’ll have to forgive my daughter, she’s had a rather tough time of it lately. It’s not easy starting over again. And her husband didn’t have the decency to die on her, giving her closure.”

  Mac laughed at the woman’s candidness. He’d always liked honesty. It made things less complicated. “I take it you didn’t like your son-in-law very much.”

  “Ex-son-in-law,” Erika corrected him happily. “And I would have liked him fine if he had been fried or fricasseed. As it was, he was left unscathed.” She shook her head, remembering. She’d had a bad feeling about Matt from the start, but had chalked it up to her reluctance to see her daughter whisked out of her life and moved to another city four hundred miles away. “Pulled the wool right over Jolene’s eyes. She worked her fingers to the bone, putting him through medical school.”

  Erika crossed her arms before her as she looked down the hall for a moment. “Put her whole life on hold for him.” She looked back at the man standing next to her. He had nice eyes, she thought. And a killer smile. She wondered if he liked children. “And he went on to hold everything he could as long as it looked good in a bra—or out of one.”

  Jolene stuck her head out of the spare bedroom where Amanda was lying down. “Mother!” She had to get out of here before her mother took out naked baby pictures of her to use as a bargaining chip.

  Turning around, Erika tried to look contrite but failed. “Sorry, it seems that I’m running off at the mouth again.”

  Jolene crossed to her mother, holding a dozing Amanda in her arms. “Yes, you are. And you’re the one who used to tell me not to talk to strangers.”

  Jolene had been her only child, and Erika had been a little overly protective of her. Which was why she blamed herself for Jolene’s marriage. Maybe if she hadn’t been so protective, Jolene would have been able to see Matt for what he was instead of what she thought he was.

  “You were six at the time,” Erika said matter-of-factly. “And besides—” she looked at Mac “—he’s not a stranger, he introduced himself to me—which is more than you did.”

  She wasn’t about to get pulled into this. “You already know who I am, Mother.”

  Erika leaned her head in toward Mac conspiratorially. “The smart mouth she got from her father—God-rest-his-soul.”

  Enough was enough. “Who are you going out with, Mother?”

  “Anthony Palladino.” It was a new name to Jolene who looked at her expectantly, waiting for more information. Erika smiled. It was as if their roles had somehow gotten reversed over the years. “I met him when I was skiing up at Big Bear.”

  Mac looked at the older woman, duly impressed. “You ski?”

  “My mother does everything,” Jolene replied. Though she worried about her breaking her neck in one of her adventures, there was no mistaking the thread of pride in her voice.

  “
One of the DeLuca women has to have fun,” Erika told Mac. She shook her head, remembering her own life when she was Jolene’s age. Except that she’d had a good man to lean on. Jolene deserved nothing less. “And my daughter is a workaholic.”

  “The bills don’t get paid if I don’t work, Mother.” Besides, she loved being a nurse. Even if it meant interacting with men who thought they were God’s gift to the world—and to women. She looked at Mac. “If you still want to take me home—”

  Erika’s eyes instantly brightened. “He’s taking you home?”

  Jolene’s arms tightened around her daughter, who was stirring. She kissed the top of her head. “My home, Mother, not his.”

  Erika sighed. “A woman can hope.” She walked them to the door and kissed her granddaughter. “Good night, pumpkin.” She raised her eyes to Mac. “Nice to have met you, Doctor.”

  He smiled at her warmly. “My friends call me Mac.”

  Erika inclined her head as if meeting him all over again. “Mac.”

  Jolene shifted impatiently. She wanted to get Amanda home and in bed. Besides, the weather looked as if it had let up for a second. Now was a good time to make a run to the car. “Shall we go, Doctor?”

  Mac spared a moment to lean toward Erika. He indicated Jolene with his eyes. “We haven’t made friends yet.”

  Erika’s smile filtered into her eyes. “It takes time to win her over, but it’s worth it.”

  Embarrassed, Jolene rolled her eyes. Pulling open the door, she pressed Amanda, who was wrapped in a blanket, close to her until they reached his car. She scrambled into the back seat with the little girl. It was awkward slipping Amanda into her car seat from this angle.

  The next thing she knew, Mac had opened the other rear door.

  “Here, let me help.” Not waiting for her to answer, he slipped the rest of the blanket from the little girl and slid her into her car seat. “Hi, honey. I’m Dr. Mac. I’m a friend of your mom’s.”

  “You shouldn’t lie to her,” Jolene said.

  Mac slid the straps expertly into place around the small body. His eyes met hers. “I didn’t.”

  Jolene felt something warm shiver down her spine and told herself it was just due to the shift in temperature between being outside the car and inside it.