Dance with the Doctor

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Dance with the Doctor Page 8

by Cindi Myers


  Darcy picked up a pink-haired troll mama with a snaggletoothed troll baby.

  “I used to spend a lot of time combing their hair and stuff.” Taylor stroked a purple-haired troll. “But now I just look at them.” She set aside the purple troll and picked up one with bright red hair, dressed in a kilt.

  “My mom brought me this one from Scotland.”

  “Did you have a good time with your mother last weekend?” Darcy asked.

  “Yeah. It was okay.” She replaced the troll on the shelf. “We went to the ice show on Friday and shop ping on Saturday, then had pizza Saturday night.”

  “Sounds like a fun weekend,” Taylor said.

  “Yeah, but…” She worried her lower lip between her teeth and glanced at Darcy. “Being with her is more like hanging out with a friend than a mom.”

  Darcy hoped when Melissa and Taylor were alone that Melissa paid more attention to her daughter. Taylor was at the age where she still enjoyed listening to her mother’s stories, but how long would that last if she wasn’t able to confide in Melissa in turn? Still, Melissa managed to remain involved in her daughter’s life despite her hectic schedule. It wasn’t Darcy’s place to judge her. “I’m sure your mother loves you very much.”

  “Oh, I know that,” Taylor said. “And I love her, too, and I like seeing her, but sometimes I wish she was more like a real mom.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I wish she did stuff like volunteering at my school and cooking dinner and things like that.”

  Darcy had done that kind of “stuff” for Riley. She’d helped in the school library and chaperoned field trips and brought refreshments to baseball practice. She’d made dinner most nights, even if it was only heated-up chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese—his favorite.

  “I almost forgot! I got a cool new computer game to show you.” Taylor raced to the desk in the corner.

  Darcy forced a smile, determined to set aside her sadness and focus on the child in front of her.

  By the time Mike came home, Darcy had learned the ins and outs of a computer game involving dragons, princesses, handsome warriors and, yes, trolls, and was determined to survive at least one onscreen battle without going up in flames. She was so en grossed she didn’t even notice Mike until he was standing behind her. “I see Taylor’s introduced you to her latest obsession,” he said.

  His hand rested on the back of her chair, his fingers just grazing her shoulder. That casual contact sent a jolt of awareness through her. “Yes, I…yes, we were having fun,” she stammered. “I’m afraid I’m not very good at it. She’s beat me every round, but she’s gracious enough to let me try again.”

  Stop babbling. She shut her mouth and stood. “I guess I’d better get going now.”

  “I at least owe you dinner for looking after Taylor this afternoon.”

  “Dinner? Oh, I don’t know…” Dinner was too much like a date. The thought of being able to eat anything with her stomach fluttering so wildly was almost laughable.

  “Please.” He took her hand. “Taylor would enjoy it and I know I would.”

  His tone was warm and reassuring, his touch calming, spreading a pleasant heat through her. If this was an example of his bedside manner, it was a wonder he didn’t have women lined up for blocks, waiting to see him.

  This wouldn’t be a date, really. Not with Taylor along. “All right,” she said. “I’d love to have dinner with you.”

  The restaurant he chose was a small bistro near his home, with blue-and-white tablecloths and murals of the French countryside. The adults ordered steak and Taylor opted for chicken strips. Darcy’s earlier nervousness had subsided, replaced by a pleasant buzz of energy. She thought Mike must have felt it, too. He smiled at her often and took every chance to touch her, fingers lightly brushing her hand as he passed the salt or poured wine. Taylor chattered away, seemingly oblivious.

  They had just settled down to their meal when the door opened and Dave and Carrie came in.

  “Darcy!” Dave quickly masked his surprise and strode to their table.

  “Dave, this is Mike and Taylor Carter. Mike is a doctor. This is my brother, Dave.” Darcy made the introductions. “Taylor is one of my students,” she added. Maybe later she’d tell Dave about Taylor’s heart, but not now. “And this is Dave’s girlfriend, Carrie Kinkaid.”

  “Nice to meet you.” The men shook hands, sizing each other up the way men do. Darcy wondered what her motorcycle-riding, construction-worker brother thought of the doctor. Mike had taken off his tie, but he still wore gray suit trousers and a blue-and-white pin-striped shirt. The top button of the shirt was unfastened and he’d rolled the sleeves to just below his elbows. Darcy kept staring at the fine dark hairs on his forearms and his thick, masculine fingers.

  “How are you, Carrie?” Darcy asked.

  “I’m good,” Carrie said. “We’ve been looking at houses.”

  “She’s been looking,” Dave said. “I’m just the chauffeur. I like my place.”

  Carrie’s mouth tightened. “Now’s a great time to buy a house,” Carrie said. “It would be a good investment.”

  “Yeah, all those people who’ve invested in real estate are really rolling in it now, considering how housing prices are down,” Dave said.

  “Which makes it a buyer’s market,” Carrie countered. “And prices will come back up.”

  “I don’t think they’re going anywhere right now,” Dave said. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

  “I’m not so sure we do,” Carrie said.

  She had the uncomfortable feeling Carrie wasn’t talking about the house. Darcy wondered what it was that kept Dave from marrying Carrie and settling down. After five years together, what was he waiting for?

  “We’d better get out of here and let you eat,” Dave said. “Nice to meet you, Mike. You, too, Taylor.”

  The hostess seated Dave and Carrie at a table across the room. Carrie said something to Dave and he scowled and shook his head.

  “Are they going to get married?” Taylor asked.

  The question surprised a gasp from Darcy. “Why would you think that?”

  Taylor shrugged. “You said they were boyfriend and girlfriend, and they’re buying a house. I mean, I know sometimes people just live together, but a marriage is more romantic, don’t you think?”

  “Some people would argue that marriage isn’t always romantic,” Mike said. But his eyes glinted with humor.

  “Some parts of marriage certainly aren’t romantic,” Darcy agreed. There had been nothing romantic about her fights with Pete, and something much deeper and more enduring about their making up. She had many regrets about their relationship, and would always believe she should have done more to protect Riley. But she’d never regret the real love she and Pete had known when times were good.

  “Are they going to get married?” Taylor asked.

  “Taylor, that’s none of your business,” Mike chided.

  “It’s okay,” Darcy said. “I don’t know if Carrie and Dave will marry. They’ve been together a long time, and she’d like to get married, but he’s not sure.”

  “It can be a scary proposition, to make that kind of commitment to another person,” Mike said. “Especially when you’ve been on your own awhile.”

  Was he speaking from his own experience, or merely making conversation?

  “If he loves her, I think they should get married,” Taylor said.

  Darcy nodded. The strength of her conviction surprised her. After all she’d been through with Pete and Riley, she would have said she never wanted to risk that pain again.

  Of course, they were talking about Dave and Carrie. It was high time her brother got over his fear of commitment or belief in family curses or whatever was holding him back and settled down to raise the family he claimed he wanted.

  She glanced toward the table where Dave and Carrie sat silently across from each other. Her heart ached to see two people she loved at such odds.

  “
When Taylor’s mother and I bought our house, we had a hard time agreeing on a place,” Mike said. “She wanted to be near the airport. I wanted to be close to my office.”

  “Your house is nowhere near the airport.”

  “Only because the schools on this side of town are better,” he said. “And Melissa liked being by the lake. But it took us a while to get to that compromise. Maybe your brother and his girlfriend will find their perfect place, too.”

  Darcy had had a perfect place once, with a husband and son she loved. Losing them had destroyed her belief in perfection. Now she only wanted peace—a calm, Zen existence with dance and music and meditation, and no anger or fear or pain or any of those messy emotions that made life so hard.

  Her eyes met Mike’s and she knew he understood. They were after the same thing, really.

  Which made the kiss they’d shared, and this attraction between them, a very scary thing. Being with someone else meant giving up some of that hard-won control. Taking risks.

  Darcy liked Mike. And she adored Taylor. But she wasn’t sure that was enough to move her past her fear of loving someone only to lose them.

  AS THEY ATE, Mike studied Darcy, the way a fisherman studied the surface of a pond for a clue to what lay beneath. He still wasn’t sure where he stood with her, or where he even wanted to stand. She intrigued him and awakened a side of him he’d ignored too long. Since his divorce he’d been content to remain single and celibate, but Darcy raised doubts. Maybe he wasn’t as settled as he’d thought.

  But if he was going to tiptoe back into the whole dating game, wouldn’t it make more sense to start with someone less emotionally complicated than Darcy? Someone who didn’t remind him so much of how fragile relationships could be?

  “What do you have planned this weekend?”

  At first Mike thought Darcy was addressing him, then he realized she was talking to Taylor.

  “I don’t know,” Taylor said. “My mom is in Italy or Greece or someplace.”

  “Melissa’s on a European rotation for the next month,” Mike explained.

  “Dad and I will probably just hang out at the house,” Taylor said. “Do you want to hang out with us?”

  Darcy shook her head, perhaps a little too forcefully. “I’m dancing at a birthday party on Saturday, and Friday night I have my regular gig at the restaurant.”

  “Do you do that every Friday?” Taylor asked.

  “Starting next month it’s only every other week.”

  “That’s not because of what happened the other night, is it?” Mike asked, alarmed.

  “Oh no. It’s a slow time of year. We planned this before, I promise.”

  “I’ll admit I’m relieved to hear it.” He still couldn’t believe he’d hit that guy—it was so unlike him. Then again, he didn’t always feel like himself when he was with Darcy, though he couldn’t yet say if that was good or bad.

  “What are you talking about?” Taylor asked.

  “Nothing, sweetheart.”

  The girl looked unconvinced. “You always say that when it’s really something.”

  “I do not,” Mike said.

  “Yes you do. You always said that when you and Mom were fighting.”

  Mike made a face, and opened his mouth to launch into an explanation but Darcy cut him off. “Did Taylor tell you about the routine we’ve been learning in class?”

  He shot her a look of gratitude. “No, she didn’t. She won’t even dance for me at home.”

  “I’m not good enough yet.”

  “You’re doing very well in class,” Darcy said. “All of you are.”

  “But I want to dance the way you do,” she said.

  “I’ve been dancing for ten years,” she said. “I didn’t start out being able to do all the moves I can do.”

  Mike couldn’t keep from thinking about all those moves.

  “You’ll see her dance at my recital in a few weeks,” Darcy said.

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Why can’t you ever think about someone besides yourself and how you feel?”

  The words were loud and anguished, coming from the table across the room where Darcy’s brother and his girlfriend sat. The girlfriend—Carrie—shoved back her chair and stood. “You don’t want me to leave so you won’t have to be alone, but you don’t want to be with me enough to make it permanent. Well, you can’t have it both ways.” She rushed past them, her face contorted by tears.

  Darcy half rose from her chair, as if to follow, but her brother stopped her. “Stay out of this, sis,” he said, and hurried after Carrie.

  Darcy bit her lip, clearly distressed, but stayed in her seat. She glanced at Mike. “Sorry about that.”

  “What’s wrong?” Taylor asked. “Why are they fighting?”

  “I don’t know,” Darcy said. She smoothed her napkin across her lap once more. “It’s none of my business, I guess. But he’s the only family I have close by and I worry about him.”

  “Do you have other brothers and sisters?” Mike asked.

  “No, it’s just me and Dave. Mom’s in Arizona now and Dad’s in Las Vegas. They don’t travel much anymore.”

  He imagined her after the accident, with only her brother to comfort her. “My parents are in Dallas,” he said. He should visit them soon, and take Taylor. She needed to know her family better.

  “Maybe your brother and his girlfriend will kiss and make up,” Taylor said. “Or maybe they’ll break up and he’ll find someone new who will make him happier.”

  Mike stared at his daughter. Where had she gotten this cavalier attitude about romance? Was it because she’d witnessed the breakup of her parents’ marriage?

  Or was it because he let her watch too much TV?

  “I guess sometimes it’s hard to know when you’ve found the right person,” Darcy said. “I just want him to be happy. And Carrie’s a nice person. I want her to be happy, too.”

  “Do you think it’s like in stories, like Cinderella and Snow White—where there’s one right person you’re meant to fall in love with?” Taylor asked. “Or do you fall in love with lots of people in your lifetime?”

  “Taylor, where do you get these ideas?” Mike asked. And why was she asking these questions now?

  She shrugged. “Mom told me once, when we were talking about why you two got divorced, that people fell in love sometimes, and then as they got older and changed, that person wasn’t right for them anymore and they had to split up so they’d be free to find the next right person.”

  Was that how Melissa saw it? Or was it simply easier to say that to a little girl who was wondering why her parents didn’t love each other anymore? He had loved Melissa once, but he couldn’t say she’d ever really been the right person for him—how could she be when they were so different?

  “I think some people get lucky and find the one person they’re meant to be with right away,” Darcy said. “And other people have to look longer.”

  He thought of her husband, the alcoholic. If he’d lived, would they be divorced now?

  “What about you?” Darcy asked Taylor. “Is there a boy at school you like?”

  Once again she’d effectively steered the conversation away from personal revelations, though not exactly into territory Mike wanted to explore.

  “There’s this one guy in my class,” Taylor said. “Nathan Orosco. He’s really cute and, once, when I had to go in the hospital for some tests, he told me he was sorry I’d been sick.”

  “You’re too young to be concerned with boys,” Mike said.

  “Lots of girls my age have boys they like,” Taylor said.

  “He’s just being a dad,” Darcy said. She looked as if she was trying not to laugh.

  He forced himself to relax. “Nothing wrong with watching out for my daughter.”

  Taylor turned to Darcy. “I guess it’s kind of cute, when you think about it.”

  “Yeah, it’s cute,” she said. Their eyes met and again he felt the pull of attraction.
Darcy was definitely shaking up his life.

  Being with her changed him—into a man who punched a stranger, who kissed a woman he barely knew. He didn’t like losing control like that. Taylor and his patients depended on him to be steady and reliable. Getting close to a woman who made him lose it that way was out of the question.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THOUGH THE STUDENT RECITAL was still weeks away, the girls in Darcy’s Wednesday afternoon class were engrossed in planning their favorite part of the event—their costumes. “I’m going to wear this sparkly top with all these sequins and fringe,” Hannah said as they gathered in the studio before class.

  “My mom made me this pink silky skirt and a matching short top,” Zoe said. “It looks like something out of Aladdin.”

  “I have these velvet pants and this bra top with jewels on it,” Debby said. She turned to Taylor. “What are you going to wear?”

  “I don’t know yet.” Taylor busied herself zipping and unzipping her backpack. “It’s still a long way off, anyway.”

  Darcy eavesdropped on their conversation from her spot by the stereo in the corner. She wished she could do something to ease Taylor’s fears about her dance costume. Whatever scars she had from the surgery, they weren’t important to those who loved her. She put a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Why don’t we call your father and ask if you can stay here after class today?” she said. “We can work on your costume.”

  Taylor looked doubtful. “Do you really think we can come up with something that won’t look stupid?” she asked. “Maybe I shouldn’t even dance.”

  Darcy ached for the girl. She wanted to pull her close and hold her tight, to reassure her the way a mother would.

  But she wasn’t Taylor’s mother, only her teacher and friend. She couldn’t take away the girl’s pain, but she would find a way to make it not matter as much.

  “We’ll come up with a great costume for you,” she said. “Go ahead and call your father.”

  Taylor made the call and took her place in the lineup, her expression more relaxed.

  After class, Darcy led Taylor to the spare bedroom that doubled as her sewing room. “I make a lot of my own costumes and I have material left over.” She opened the closet and began pulling out plastic storage boxes stuffed with fabric and trim. “I’ll bet we can find something in here to make you a costume.”

 

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