The Doctor Returns

by Stella MacLean

  “How do you know that?”

  “Again, experience,” Sherri said, heading back into the house for the salmon and the vegetables.

  “Is living alone hard? Do you get lonely?” Morgan asked, following along behind her.

  Sherri passed her the platter of fish and a pair of oven mitts. “Sometimes, but most of the time I’m too busy to notice. And, of course, living alone means I get to make all the decisions about what I eat. And I don’t have to wait to take a shower or share the closet.”

  “But you always have to take out the trash and do the chores, right?”

  Sherri picked up the vegetable tray and headed back outside. “True, but one person doesn’t produce much trash, and the chores aren’t as time-consuming when they’re being done for one.”

  “You make it sound like living alone is a good deal. Does that mean you don’t plan to move in with Dad and me?”

  Was that hope Sherri heard in her voice? “Living alone is neither good nor bad. It’s a lifestyle. But when the right person comes along that you’d like to share your life with...”

  “Do you want to share my dad’s life?”

  “Yes, I do. And I want to get to know you, too, and maybe we could get to be friends after a while.”

  Morgan studied her hands. “I don’t know.”

  “I’m not pressuring you on this,” Sherri hastened to add. “I love your dad, and I never expected to ever have another chance with him.”

  “And now you think you might?” Morgan asked, her brown eyes studying Sherri.

  Sherri considered her answer. Morgan didn’t want a new woman in her father’s life, and she had to try to understand her position if the three of them were going to be part of a family. She could appeal to Morgan’s sense of fair play. Morgan wouldn’t be her father’s daughter if she didn’t have a keen sense of fairness. “Your father and I not only love each other, we share a history. We loved each other a long time ago.”

  “I wasn’t even born back then,” Morgan said in a tone that told Sherri that she believed that all adults were slightly dull.

  “That’s right. You weren’t. But now there’s you and your dad, and me. And it looks like we’ll all be together eventually. All I want is for you and me to be able to enjoy being a part of each other’s lives and to get to spend time together. I think you’ll discover I’m not a bad person.”

  “Dad says you’re great. So I guess...maybe.”

  Morgan stood there, a shy smile on her face. Sherri wanted to hug her she looked so ill at ease.

  What have you got to lose?

  “So, you think you’d be willing to get to know me?” Sherri asked.

  Morgan nodded.

  Sherri took a chance and hugged Morgan, prepared to let go if the child showed any resistance. Morgan’s arms crept around her—awkwardly at first—and Sherri responded by simply holding her. Suddenly Morgan was clinging to her, squeezing so hard she could barely breathe. “I’m sorry. So sorry,” Morgan sobbed into Sherri’s shirt.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for, nothing at all.”

  Holding Neill’s child made Sherri realize how much she had to offer this girl who had seen so many changes in her life, changes she had no control over. Sherri understood only too well how difficult it was to be set adrift by the actions of others. “Right now, I really need your help to get the salmon steaks on the barbecue.”

  Morgan stepped back and pulled on the oven mitts. “See?” She waved her mitted hands around. “We can help each other. And when Dad gets back, we’ll make his dinner for him. You and me.”

  “You and me,” Sherri echoed, feeling the first tentative threads of a bond forming between them.

  Their conversation was stilted as they began working on the dinner together, but by the time they finished eating, they were talking more comfortably.

  “Do you think I should be allowed to wear lipstick?” Morgan asked, her assessing gaze so much like her father’s.

  How should she answer? In her mind, Morgan was too young, yet if she said so, it might send Morgan off to her room in a huff, and Sherri didn’t want that. “I’m not sure about lipstick, but what about lip gloss in a color you’d like?”

  Morgan brightened. “Really?”

  She could remember wanting to wear lipstick and having to accept her mother’s decision that she was too young. But that was years ago, and almost certainly parents’ approaches to such things had changed. “What can it hurt?” she asked.

  “My mom says I’m way too young to wear lipstick, but she might think that lip gloss is okay.” Morgan hung the dish towel over the towel rack near the sink.

  Sherri saw the slump of her shoulders, and she began to understand how difficult it must be to be nine years old and not to have your mother around to talk to when you needed her. “Maybe you could ask her the next time you call her.”

  “How about now?” Morgan asked.

  Sherri turned to see Morgan fidgeting with the edge of her shirt. Did she want her approval to make the call? Or was she worried about what her mother might say? “Calling your mother is a great idea. Maybe you could suggest a clear lip gloss to start with.”

  “Okay!” Morgan scrambled around the table and scooped up the phone before heading into the living room.

  Sherri waited to hear how the call went, hoping Lilly would agree to some type of gloss.

  When Morgan returned, she appeared dejected. “Mom wasn’t there. Someone else answered the phone, someone who works for my mom. She says Mom left for China this morning. I called Mom’s cell phone, but it went to her voice mail.” Morgan slid into the chair across the table from Sherri. “I wish she’d told me.”

  “Maybe it was an urgent meeting and she didn’t have time to call,” Sherri said, surprised that Lilly wouldn’t have called to let her daughter know that she was leaving the country. “Maybe she’ll call tonight.”

  Morgan toyed with the hem of the table runner. “Do you think so?”

  She hadn’t a clue and didn’t want to speculate further. Morgan was clearly disappointed. In a hurried attempt to change the subject, she said, “I imagine you’ll be having a big shopping trip with your mom to get ready for summer, won’t you?”

  “Yeah. I guess so. But I don’t want to wait that long. If Mom was here, we’d be going on a shopping trip now,” she said wistfully.

  “Would you like to go shopping with me? I’m not your mom, but between us we could probably manage to get a few things you’d like. What do you think?”

  “Can I get lip gloss?”

  “Only if you tell your mom about it the next time you talk to her. And only the clear stuff.”

  “Okay,” she said, but her expression was still downcast.

  “We can go get you a clear lip gloss and pick out some nice clothes.”

  Morgan edged around the table, closer to Sherri. “Is Dad coming with us?”

  “Do you want him to?”

  The girl’s smile was hesitant at first, and then, as if a floodgate had opened, she gave Sherri a huge grin. “No. We need a girls’ day out. Maybe we can drive to Portland and hit the mall.”

  Morgan chatted eagerly about all her plans for their shopping trip, and Sherri felt a sense of accomplishment. She’d managed to get Morgan to warm up to her enough to go shopping with her. And Morgan hadn’t asked if a friend could come with them, which meant she was willing to spend time alone with Sherri.

  Once they’d finished cleaning up the kitchen, she and Morgan watched a movie together. Morgan insisted that they make popcorn to go with the show. Sherri wasn’t surprised to see Morgan fall asleep about an hour after the movie started. It had been a long day for everyone. She managed to get her upstairs, and after sleepily brushing her teeth, Morgan climbed into bed.

  In the soft light o
f the bedside lamp, Sherri realized that underneath all her bravado, Morgan was trying really hard to fit into her father’s new life.

  Feeling at peace for the first time in ages, Sherri turned off the light and tiptoed out of the room and down the stairs. She finished cleaning up in the kitchen while she waited to hear from Neill.

  Finding the hours dragging by, she picked up a book and began to read. One word morphed into another as she tried to keep her eyes open. Around midnight, the phone rang.

  “Sherri, I won’t be home for another couple of hours.”

  She heard the exhaustion in Neill’s voice. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

  He didn’t answer at first. “I will be when I get away from here.”

  She heard the tension in his voice and realized that something must have gone really wrong for him tonight. “I’ll be waiting for you whatever time you get here.”

  A long sigh slid past his lips, increasing her fear. “I needed to hear you say that. I love you. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  WORRIED, SHE WAITED for him, all thoughts of sleep having vaporized. She tidied up the rooms on the main floor, her hedge against her dark thoughts. Fraught with concern, she went to Neill’s computer in his office and surfed the internet for a while, searching for a distraction.

  When she finally saw the headlights of his SUV flash across the office windows, she went to the door, holding it open for him. He didn’t get out of his vehicle right away, and she was about to go to him when the car door opened and he stepped out. His gaze fixed on the ground, he made his way to her and, without a word, grabbed her, pulled her into his arms and sobbed into her neck.

  Frightened, she patted his back, a pointless gesture, but the only thing she could do under the pressure of his crushing embrace. “Neill, what’s wrong?”

  He didn’t answer, only tightened his grip on her.

  “Why don’t we go into the house, and you can tell me what’s going on,” she said, relieved to feel his grip ease.

  “Are you hungry? Morgan and I—”

  He shifted her in his arms, maintaining a tight grip on her as he walked through the kitchen and past the living room toward the stairs. “I need you to stay with me tonight—or what’s left of it. I can’t be alone.”

  She looked up into his haggard face, to the dark pools of his eyes and the remnants of tears. “Neill, I’m not sure I should stay,” she whispered. “What will Morgan say if she wakes up and finds me in your bed?”

  “I don’t care. All I care about is having you with me. Please,” he begged, his hands moving through her hair, his body tense.

  What could she do? Leaving him like this was out of the question. “Okay.”

  He took her hand and they walked up the stairs, across the landing and down the hall to his bedroom. Determined not to wake Morgan, Sherri eased the door closed behind her.

  Neill crossed the room, peeled off his clothes and tossed them in a pile by the window before turning to face her. “Undress for me.”

  Mesmerized by the look in his eyes, she did as he ordered. Before she’d managed to get out of her pants and top, he was standing in front of her, pulling her shirt over her head as he kissed her lips. The fury of his kiss caught her by surprise. Out of breath, she pressed her hands against his chest. “Neill!”

  His fingers shook as he undid her bra. “Sherri, trust me. I need to make love to you...to stop...” A shudder rattled through him. “I’ve waited so long...so long,” he whispered, his hands palming her breasts as he kissed her again, gently this time.

  Alive to his touch, she returned his kiss, her body melding with his, her heart pounding as if it would leap from her chest. He pushed her toward the bed until she felt the mattress behind her legs, then Neill was coming down on top of her, his body hard, his hands on either side of her to ease her onto the bed.

  He moved beside her, while his hands slid down her body, coming to rest over her pubic area. With his eyes on hers, he whispered, “You are so beautiful.” He kissed her neck and her shoulders while his fingers caressed her.

  She closed her eyes, absorbing his touch as if it were his last, as if there were nothing left between them but a raging need to fondle each other. His lips set her body on fire as his fingers slid between her legs, causing her to melt. She pulled him to her, thrusting her body up to his, and felt him enter her. Her body rocked with his; his skin was slick with sweat against hers. His sudden intake of breath, the hammering of his body against hers, pulled her over the edge into the abyss of need that claimed her body and soul.

  Her body shuddered with his, their breath blending together. His hands trembling, he brushed the damp hair from her forehead. “I... Don’t leave me.” He rolled off her and lay down next to her, his hands resting on her damp skin, his touch calming the wild beating of her heart.

  In the dim light from the windows facing the backyard, she saw the way he was looking at her, as if he’d never really seen her before. “Neill, tell me what’s wrong.”

  His fingers gently massaged her abdomen and then stopped suddenly. He pulled her into his arms and held her close, his lips near her ear. “I don’t know any other way to say this.” His arms tightened around her. “Charlie Crawford died tonight.”

  A tremor shot through her body. Her mind refused to process his words. “What?”

  “I couldn’t save him. I tried. The EMTs did everything they could. And still Charlie died.” He swallowed hard. “He’d been trapped under his truck after the collision. God! Four cars, two transport trucks and Charlie’s truck. He’d been drinking....” Neill turned on his back and stared at the ceiling. “Charlie’s injuries were too severe. I couldn’t save him,” he said again, and once again tears choked his words.

  It didn’t seem real. She could see Charlie’s face that last time she’d seen him in the clinic. He’d assured her he would get help. He wanted to get better for himself and his family. He’d said all the words that soothed her guilt and hadn’t been able to follow through on any of them. “Are you sure he’d been drinking?”

  “He reeked of it! Even in death he smelled like a brewery.” Neill rolled away from her, his fists pounding the bed as he lay on his side. “Damn it! I knew he was an alcoholic, and I didn’t confront him on it. I even tried to stop you from getting involved. If I’d done something, he might still be alive.”

  She turned toward him. His body was silhouetted by the early dawn light. “Neill, don’t do that to yourself. Remember we gave him the number for that psychologist. He could have gone to AA, and he didn’t. You have no way of predicting how Charlie would have responded, even if he had gotten help.”

  “You didn’t see his wife’s face when she got to the hospital. I had to tell her that Charlie didn’t survive, that there was nothing we could do. Then his parents arrived. Damn!”

  She pulled him into her arms, the deep tremors shuddering through his body leaving her feeling completely helpless. “His family, his wife and children, all left to grieve,” he whispered against her throat.

  She hugged him close, remembering another death and how close it had brought her to losing her mind. “Neill, try to remember that you did what you could to help Charlie. That some things are simply beyond our ability to fix.”

  He snuggled closer to her, his breathing slowing a little. “How did you manage to get through Patrick’s death?”

  “He only lived fifty-two hours, and he died peacefully in my arms. I tried to comfort myself with that.”

  “Did it work?”

  She hesitated, afraid even now to show him how vulnerable she felt over what had happened years ago. “No. When I lost him, I lost my ability to cope. There are whole weeks I don’t remember.” She rubbed her finger over the faint scar on her wrist where she’d dragged the knife to end her agony. “The pain
was unbearable. And if it wasn’t for Sam coming into my hospital room...”

  The sadness evident in his eyes, he whispered, “I’ve said I’m sorry for what happened to you so many times, and yet I know how inadequate those words are. Still, that’s all I can think of to say, even now.”

  “Neill, tonight was a terrible accident, and so many lives have been forever altered. Yet we can’t let that change our belief in how good life can be. We’ve found each other again. I had a wonderful evening with Morgan, and I’m looking forward to spending time with her. Can we try to concentrate on the good in our lives? I’ve been through enough of the bad.”

  She could feel his eyes on her. “I never want you to leave me,” he said. “Never. I am the luckiest guy on this planet, and we have everything two people could ever wish for.”

  She remembered Morgan’s face, a mirror for her insecurity. “But maybe I shouldn’t sleep here. I don’t want to wreck my new relationship with Morgan, and regardless of how difficult tonight’s been I’m not sure she’d understand. It’s nearly light outside, and you need to sleep.”

  Neill rose up on his elbow, his eyes looking directly into hers. “There is nothing I want more than for you and my daughter to get along, but I meant it when I said you and I are staying together from here on out. Morgan will just have to accept that.”

  She wanted to argue with him, but his expression told her it would be a wasted effort. “Then, it’s about time we got some sleep.”

  In less than ten minutes, Neill was snoring softly, his body wrapped around hers, warming her as she tried to sleep. But her mind still niggled away at her worry over Morgan’s reaction. What would Neill’s daughter do when she found her in bed with her father? Should she simply get up and leave now that Neill was asleep? She moved a little bit away from Neill, only to have him pull her back against him and snuggle closer.

  Watching the dawn light spread across the bedroom, her mind cruised over all the events of the past few months, stopping on that moment in the emergency room when she woke to see Neill’s anxious face. The day she’d come to believe that they would be given a second chance, and it had turned out to be true.