by Ruby Cruz
We both watched Chloe grin happily as she played with the toy. “I guess I can give Mom a pass for Loser Bob.” She raised a chastising eyebrow at me. “Sorry, for Bob,” I corrected. “At least Chloe looks like you.”
“Bob wasn’t bad looking.”
“He was okay,” I conceded, “but he did have that unibrow. We would’ve had to wax Chloe as soon as she emerged from the womb if she’d inherited that monstrosity.”
Jane was still smiling when she got up to get the doorbell a moment later. Hal yelled at Mom’s terrier, Misty, to quit barking but her excited yips continued. It wasn’t until I heard the unfamiliar voice at the door that I remembered about our unexpected guest. When Jane reemerged she was flushed. Dr. Bingley gave a sheepish grin and a wave. “Hello. I’m Charlie,” he greeted. “Thank you for allowing me to intrude on your family dinner.” He patiently petted the excited dog as she clawed up his leg.
I stood from where I was lying on the carpet with Chloe and scooped the dog into my arms. When I offered Bingley my hand, Misty sniffed and licked at his persistently. “I’m Lizzy, the second daughter. My mom’s in the kitchen finishing up with dinner. Do you want anything to drink? Water, wine, single malt scotch?”
Again that sheepish grin. He was cute, in a puppy dog kind of way, and had the eyes to match. “Just water for now. Thank you.” He was visibly nervous as he ran a hand through his short blond hair. I wondered what on earth he was doing here. If I’d been invited to dinner by one of my patients, I’d have found any reason to politely excuse myself for the rest of my lifespan.
I left to get the water and met Mom in the kitchen. “Your ‘guest’ is here. You’d better go greet him before he gets wise to your matchmaking antics.” I deposited the dog onto the floor where she immediately ran back into the living room, presumably to accost Bingley again.
She sighed at my attitude and proceeded to wash her hands and remove her apron. “Elizabeth, please bring out the shrimp. And don’t forget the aioli.”
“Isn’t that just a fancy word for mayo?”
She seared me with her eyes before hissing at me, “I hope you keep that tongue of yours in its place. You may not be interested in dating or having a social life, but I’m sure your sister is. After all, like you, she’s not getting any younger, plus she has a child to think of now. I don’t think she wants to be a single mother forever so don’t you go ruining her chances.”
“Mom, putting aside the fact that Jane is perfectly fine with being a single mom right now, she’s pretty enough and sweet enough to be attracting her own dates. I don’t think she needs you helping her along.”
“As much as that may be true, many men your age are leery of dating single mothers and even warier of beginning a serious relationship before the age of thirty. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with introducing you and Jane to some nice, eligible, young men who are in a stable profession. Now get that shrimp before the poor man starves. We need to be hospitable for our guest.” She smoothed a non-existent hair before venturing to the living room. “Dr. Bingley, I’m so glad you could make it tonight.”
I balanced the glass of water in one hand and the tray of shrimp with the other and followed my mother to the living room. Chloe watched delightedly as Charlie sang an off-key rendition of Thumbkin while Misty had calmed enough to allow Jane to hold her.
Charlie stopped singing long enough to address my mother. “Please call me Charlie. Like I said when you invited me, a home-cooked meal sounded nice.”
“He’s never tasted Mom’s cooking,” I murmured. Jane surreptitiously kicked me in the foot.
Charlie continued obliviously as Chloe excitedly grabbed at his thumb and began to move it about, “I’m embarrassed to admit my regular housekeeper has been on vacation for the past couple of weeks, so I’ve been eating out quite a bit. I’ve never prepared anything more complicated than instant macaroni and cheese so this will be a nice treat for me.” On cue, Charlie sampled a piece of shrimp. “I’ll probably eat better tonight than I will all week.”
Chloe went to grab for a shrimp but Jane blocked her and moved the tray to the top of the piano. Before Chloe could protest she’d been denied the choking hazard, her new playmate began playing a game of peek-a-boo with her. Shrimp forgotten, she giggled at the various faces he made.
“Charlie, you have a wonderful way with children. Chloe is normally much shyer around strangers,” my mother complimented.
“Caroline says I get along with kids so well because I’m just a big kid at heart myself.”
My mother’s face fell considerably. “Caroline?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. My older sister.” Mom visibly relaxed. “She’s become particularly critical of me ever since we started living together again. She claims I never outgrew childhood which is probably true in a lot of respects.”
“Your sister is staying with you?” I could see the wheels turning in Mom’s head. She seemed disappointed that he didn’t have a brother and also that there was another female potentially competing for eligible males in our area.
“Sort of. Caroline travels a great deal for her job so rather than her pay rent or a mortgage on a place she stays in only one week out of the month, I offered to share the house. It’s a rather large house for just one person anyway.”
My mother appeared mollified by the idea that for three weeks out of the month the unseen Caroline would not be competing for the affections of potential suitors for her daughters.
As Mom engaged Charlie in small talk, I observed him. He was well-mannered, a tad self-conscious, but easy-going. He had an unaffected personality well-suited for dealing with patients and seemed genuinely pleased my mother had invited him to dinner. If I had to venture a guess, I would say he was a little shy and maybe a bit lonely. We discovered his decision to apply to Meryton for his residency in family practice stemmed from his close friendship with one of the new cardiologists at the hospital. “Will was a few years ahead of me in school but I always considered him somewhat of a mentor of mine. He’s an excellent doctor, brilliant actually. Your hospital is lucky to have him on staff.”
I’d heard of the “brilliant Dr. William Darcy” who had just been hired by Meryton Cardiology Associates, but I hadn’t yet met the man. The other doctors I worked with had gushed over his pedigree of Ivy-League schools, residency and fellowship training at prestigious hospitals. They’d been so effusive about his background that I wondered vaguely why he’d chosen a small, regional hospital like Meryton for his practice.
Interestingly enough, as much as we were learning about the new treasure in the cardiology group, Bingley was rather evasive about his own background. We knew he originally grew up in California but had moved to the East Coast during his college years. He wouldn’t even offer where he went to school, though I suspected he had just as impressive an Ivy-League education as Dr. Darcy and was being modest.
Mom’s dinner was more than passable that evening. Because she wanted to spend more time entertaining Dr. Bingley, Hal was in charge of grilling the steaks which ensured they turned out tasty rather than Mom’s usual hockey pucks. Charlie was generous with his praise of the meal and almost eagerly agreed to come again when Mom invited him. While her cooking may have been partially responsible for his acquiescence, I suspected he had also grown a bit of an affinity for my older sister and even more so for my niece. Charlie seemed to genuinely enjoy playing with Chloe. Jane, though quiet throughout much of the dinner, watched their interaction with less wariness than admiration. I think Charlie could have looked like a six-hundred pound troll and she still would have observed him with the same wide eyes and slight smile.
As Jane and I cleaned the kitchen after Charlie said his good-byes, I asked her what she thought. “He seems nice enough,” she answered vaguely.
“He seemed especially taken with Chloe.” When she just shrugged, I pushed, “Oh, come on. Admit it. He impressed you with how much he got along with her. He impressed m
e, too.”
“He could be a pedophile for all we know,” she said in a rare fit of negativity.
I considered the possibility. “He could be, but I don’t think he is. Well, I guess we’ll have some time to find out. Mom did invite him over for dinner again next week.”
She sighed. “Well, at least you’ll have a shot at him again.” She avoided eye contact as she continued to load the dishwasher.
That gave me pause. “What? Me? He’s not interested in me.”
“Why wouldn’t he be? You’re attractive, smart, funny….”
“I’m not the one with the adorable and fantastic daughter. If you ask me, I think he was interested in you after he realized the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.”
“I barely spoke two words to him all night. You and Mom were the ones making all the conversation.”
“Yeah and you and I both know my mouth gets me in trouble more often than not. I think someone like you is probably more his speed.”
“You’re not interested in him?” She seemed surprised.
“Sure he’s cute and he’s got the ‘likes kids’ factor going for him as well as being gainfully employed and educated. But honestly, there wasn’t that spark for me. You, on the other hand, are blushing.”
She choked back a laugh. “Lizzy, what is wrong with me? I’m a sucker for a guy who can sing Thumbkin in a room full of strangers and not blink an eye.”
I leaned more closely to her and lowered my voice. “It’s okay if you’re interested. I won’t tell Mom.”
CHAPTER TWO
The Delicious Dr. Bingley
“Hey, step-spinster! What’s the matter?” Lydia poked my arm as I rubbed my temples at the nurse’s station.
I had just hung up the phone. What should have been a thirty-second conversation had turned into a ten-minute ordeal as I tried to elicit an order for Tylenol for a patient with a simple caffeine headache. The freshly minted medical resident who was on call that night had insisted on knowing the entire medical history of the patient and, when finally convinced that Tylenol would not kill Mr. Brown, took another two minutes to decide which dosage to prescribe.
“I hate July,” I sighed.
She smiled as I scanned the transcribed order. “I love July. Did you see the face sheet on the newbies? Got a couple of real hotties this year. Who’s the on-call resident right now?”
“A guy, last name of Forster. Didn’t get the first name.”
She clapped gleefully. “He’s one of them. Here, look.” She dug out a sheet from her binder. “Doesn’t he look delicious?”
The black and white ID photo showed a smiling man in his mid-twenties. I nodded politely while she expounded on the attributes listed in his profile: hailed from Rutgers and Robert Wood Johnson Medical School, favorite activities were traveling and long distance running.
“Sounds too good to be true. How do you know he’s not gay?” I asked.
She grabbed the sheet from me and examined it again. “I don’t but I can hope, can’t I?”
“That’s what you said about Dr. Esposito.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. How was I supposed to know he already had a boyfriend and an adopted kid? It’s not like he was wearing a ring or anything. Anyway, forget about him. It’s a new year, new faces.”
Fresh meat for Lydia, was more like it. “Yes, and ten-minute telephone orders for Tylenol.”
She wagged a painted fingernail at me. “You are way too critical. He’s a first year. Give him some slack. I’m sure it wasn’t too long ago you were freaking out over putting in your first IV line.”
“Touché, but, come on, it’s Tylenol, only one of the safest and most studied drugs in existence.”
“So what if the delicious Dr. Forster wanted to make sure your patient wasn’t dying of liver failure? At least he was being cautious.” Her eyes twinkled as she sighed. “I love smart men. They are so hot.”
Somewhat amused by Lydia’s raptures, I smirked, “I’ll remind you of that statement next year when the next crop of residents come in and the guys are all fat with bad acne.”
She wagged her finger at me. “Just you wait, Lizzy. One of these days, some guy is going to sweep you off your feet and you won’t have any clever quips to spout.” She pointed to Dr. Bingley’s face on the profile sheet. “Now look at this one. He is definitely another yummy one.”
I was curious enough about Bingley to glance at his profile. Listed underneath the puppy dog eyes were his alma maters of Brown University and NYU Medical School; his hobbies included volunteering his time to disadvantaged children and building homes with Habitat for Humanity. Nothing about him being a serial ax murderer or paying alimony to seven ex-wives. If only Lydia knew that I’d just had him to dinner last Sunday, she’d freak.
Amused at my thoughts and keeping half an ear to Lydia’s prattle, I allowed my eyes to move down the page to the profiles of the new attending physicians. There was Charlie’s friend Dr. William Darcy. Unlike the other doctors pictured on the page, he was unsmiling. Even though he was attractive enough with his dark brooding looks, his dour expression was sure to be a turn-off for my vivacious stepsister.
Lydia was Hal’s daughter from his first marriage. She and I met when we’d both started at the hospital. I had just graduated with my nursing degree while she’d just started as a nurse intern. During one of our long night shifts together, she came up with a scheme to get our parents together. I’d joked and had laughed with her at the time only to find out that she’d been serious and had full intentions of setting our parents up. A year later, my mother married her father and Lydia was my actual stepsister. Go figure.
I often wondered how my biological dad and mom had ended up together long enough to have Jane and me. My mom was flighty, irrational, and headstrong while I remembered my dad to be practical, detached and analytical. Their marriage had lasted until I was two. After our father moved to the West Coast with his new wife, Jane and I were raised mostly by Mom. We received the occasional phone call and email from him but he otherwise was only marginally involved in our lives.
After Mom divorced Dad, she’d had numerous boyfriends and another husband before she met Hal. Hal was just as detached as my father had been, but much more tolerant of her ways, so much so that I wondered if he’d even notice if Mom started prancing around town naked.
I loved my mother and her little idiosyncrasies, but I knew Jane and I had been lucky my father sent her child support; otherwise I don’t know how Jane and I would have survived when it seemed she spent much of her income on hair treatments, anti-wrinkle creams, and the latest fashions. And when Jane and I reached puberty, those expenditures had extended to her daughters, or to be more precise, to Jane, whom she’d doted on.
While Jane had inherited her honey blonde hair and blue eyes, I’d apparently ended up with our father’s looks: chestnut brown hair that tended to curl, hazel eyes, skinny legs with big feet. Along with the looks, I’d also gotten his practical disposition and love for the outdoors, facts which seemed to irk my mother since she was not practical and she hated being outside for more time than it took to get into a car. I can’t recall how many times Mom had railed at me to be more complacent like Jane and to stop pestering her with my inane questions and comments.
Sometimes, I felt Lydia was the type of daughter Mom wished she’d born. Mom loved Jane for her beauty but Jane didn’t have the self-aggrandizing nature that Lydia had. And me…well, Mom barely seemed to tolerate me. Sometimes I felt bitter about my antagonistic relationship with my mother, but most of the time I brushed the feeling aside and instead enjoyed needling her and foiling her matchmaking schemes.
I liked Lydia, we had fun together, but she was one of those girls who believed having a boyfriend validated her existence. She was smart, pretty, and popular and yet any negative word from a guy led to her self-confidence dissolving like moist rice paper.
Ever since Lydia had started work
ing at the hospital as a nurse intern, she’d succeeded in dating nearly every eligible male within a five-year age gap, in all departments. She’d gained a reputation within the hospital, and not a very good one. She wasn’t my blood sister. I wasn’t even technically her boss, so ultimately I had very little authority when it came to her behavior. Whenever I would hint that she could be acting a little more professionally, she would laugh and wave me off. “God, Lizzy, just because you can’t get a date doesn’t mean I should turn them down.” All I could hope for was that one day she would wake up miraculously transformed, listen to my advice, and act more responsibly and less guy-crazy. Sometimes I felt like I was her babysitter, but instead of making sure she didn’t stick her fingers in electrical sockets, I was keeping her from getting burned by her indiscretions.
My thoughts were interrupted by the call bell sounding from one of the patient rooms. Lydia sighed and handed me the profile page she’d been examining and went to answer the call bell.
So, when I saw the concern on her face as she raced down the hallway, I immediately knew there was a problem. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s the patient in 526, the new admission. I think she’s having a stroke.” This news, coming from happy-go-lucky Lydia, was disconcerting. I followed her down the hallway and into the patient’s room.
“What’s her name?”
“Ruth Clayborn. She’s Kate’s patient but I can’t find Kate anywhere.” I had a vague recollection the patient had been admitted for a newly diagnosed cardiac arrhythmia.
“Get a set of vitals. I’ll talk with her.” I approached the elderly woman who was pale and had a very distinctive left facial droop. A thin line of saliva oozed from the side of her mouth.
“Ms. Clayborn? Can you hear me?” She looked at me, her gaze frightened, and nodded.
“My name is Lizzy and I’m one of the nurses here. Can you tell me your birthday?”
She mumbled incoherently.
I had just finished a quick physical exam when Lydia arrived with the blood pressure cuff. “When did you find her like this?”