Plan. Brief. Execute.
When pigs fly.
She grabbed her purse, cell phone, and a jacket and was outside and in her car in moments. Before she had cleared the driveway, she was punching in Zeke’s number.
Unfortunately, his wife answered and told Jenny that Zeke was already on his way over to her place. Jenny then called Zeke’s cell, which went right to voice mail. No surprise. He’d told her at least a dozen times how he didn’t like the darn thing. She left a message anyway, explaining that this meeting was not her idea, and Zeke was in no way obligated to be there. He could—and should—take the day off as planned.
Jared could plan, brief, and execute all he wanted, but she and Zeke were not going to be a part of it.
Debriefing. It’s my specialty.
It wasn’t until she was nearly to town that she realized she had nowhere to go and was no closer to getting rid of Jared.
Jared was on his way to the bathroom to take a shower when he heard the Corvette start up. Cotton Tail was on the run. Now why didn’t that surprise him?
Running this business was at the bottom of her list of priorities; the evidence was all around him. Her office was a nightmare, her dedication a joke. She had no set business hours—no set anything, as far as he could see. And when he offered to help formulate a plan (not that he had any intention of carrying that out), she ran away.
If Jared thought for one minute that she was serious and wanted to run the business Steven had started, he might have felt differently. But her actions proved she was not only incapable but unwilling to do what was needed to make this place a success.
As he waited for the hot water to make its way through the antique pipes, he couldn’t help but smile. Somehow he’d known that by insisting on staying here, he would drive her over the edge. Or, more accurately, over to the bank or to her parents.
Stepping under the hot water, Jared almost felt like singing. By the time his shower was over, the money would be as good as his.
Damn, he loved it when things worked out exactly as he planned.
Early Monday morning, Anna strode briskly through the halls of Seattle Trinity Hospital. She nodded and smiled at the nurses she passed and several of her colleagues.
One of her residents jogged up beside her. “Dr. Adams?”
“Yes?” Anna tried not to let her impatience show. On any other day, she would have been fine with the interruption. Making time for the residents was near the top of her list; the only thing ahead of them was her patients. But today was a different story. Still, she gave the resident her full attention.
“I was wondering if you had a moment to discuss the patient in two fourteen.”
“Of course.” Anna began to walk once more. “Mrs. Keller. Third trimester. Twins.”
“Yes.” The young man hustled to keep pace. “Baby A seems to be in distress.”
“What is the heart rate?”
“One twenty and has been steady, but has been down to ninety.”
“Has a nonstress test been done yet?”
The resident flipped open the chart, read for a few moments. “No.”
“Do it. And page me the instant you have the results. We want to keep those babies in the womb as long as possible.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
Before she released the resident, Anna asked him several questions, assuring herself he had a full and complete understanding of the patient’s condition and needs. Mrs. Keller was under Anna’s care, and as such, Anna would allow nothing less than absolute competency when it came to her patients.
“My meeting shouldn’t last any longer than half an hour,” Anna said as the reached the elevator. She hit the up arrow. “I’ll be back down to check on Mrs. Keller then.”
The resident nodded and was about to leave when Anna said, “And, Doctor . . .” He stopped and faced her. “I don’t want to see you out of uniform again.”
Perplexed, he stared at her.
She pointed to his empty lapel. Rules were meant to be followed. “Your hospital ID badge. Find it.”
“Yes, Dr. Adams.” He couldn’t hurry away fast enough.
Anna had no doubt that when she checked in on him later, his ID would be in place.
She took the elevator to the sixth floor. As she made her way down the carpeted corridor, she could see outside through the large windows that lined the hallway. It was a dull, drizzly May day. Typical for this time of year. Veteran Seattleites knew that while they might get a few nice days during the summer months, the early fall was when the true beauty of the Pacific Northwest was revealed. But even the dismal weather could not dampen her mood.
At the far end of the hallway, she reached her destination. The door was closed, but that was to be expected.
She drew in a deep breath and smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles from her perfectly pressed white coat. She put her stethoscope into one of the large front pockets, then ran a hand along her upswept hair. Assured everything was in order, she gave two short taps on the glass portion of the door.
“Come in.”
Anna opened the door and entered. Seated behind a large mahogany desk in the spacious office was Dr. Shephard, her mentor and chief of staff of Seattle Trinity. In the nearly ten years she’d known him, very little about Dr. Shephard had changed. A few more wrinkles creased his skin, his hair had gone completely white, but his eyes were still as sharp as ever.
“Anna.” He rose and came around the side of the desk, taking her hand in his. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. I hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience?’
“Not at all.” She took the seat he indicated.
“Can I get you anything? Coffee?”
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
Dr. Shephard refilled his cup and then came around to the front of his desk. Moving a picture of his wife aside, he sat down on the edge. “I know how busy you are, so let’s get right to it then.” He paused. “I’m sure you know why I’ve asked to meet with you.”
She tapped down her growing enthusiasm. “I’m not certain,” she hedged.
Dr. Shephard’s smile was knowing. “Dr. Bernard,” he said, referring to the head of the neonatal unit, “has requested an indefinite leave of absence.”
Anna clasped her hands in her lap and willed them to stop trembling. “I had heard something to that effect.”
Dr. Shephard gave a short nod. “His wife’s cancer has returned, and he has decided to take time off to be with her.”
“I was very sorry to hear about Gloria.”
“We all are, but I’m sure you understand what his leaving means.”
Of course she knew. The position as head of the neonatal unit was open. From the first day she’d entered medical school and known obstetrics was the field she’d wanted to specialize in, that had been the position she’d aimed for. And to achieve it, she’d worked longer and harder than anyone else.
“You have a true gift, Anna. One I’ve rarely seen.”
“Thank you,” she said, warmed by his praise.
He smiled, and in that smile she saw the years he had been beside her, teaching, mentoring, and then the later years when he stood across from her in the operating room as her equal. “I couldn’t be more proud of you if you were my own daughter.” He shook his head and gave a low chuckle. “Lord knows I’ve spent more time with you in this hospital than I have with my own children, my own grandchildren, or my wife.”
It had been a while since Anna had heard Dr. Shephard refer to his wife. Then again, they didn’t socialize like they used to. In the earlier years, they’d often find time for a quick cup of coffee and a chat. Even the occasional dinner out—her and Phillip, Dr. Shephard and his wife. But as her hours and workload increased, the time for socializing had dwindled, then all but faded. She knew he understood why she had had to stop accepting his invitations. A doctor’s life was nothing if not demanding.
“It’s yours, if you want it,” Dr. Shephard said.
; Want it? She’d never wanted anything more. “I won’t let you down,” she said, her voice not betraying even a quiver of her excitement.
“Of that, I have no doubt.” Dr. Shephard set down his coffee, a small frown darting across his brow. “But, Anna, before you accept—”
Hadn’t she already?
“Why don’t you take a day or two to think the offer over?”
“I—”
“We have a calling, Anna,” he said, cutting in with a smile of understanding. “It’s one of the most noble things a person can do: help another. But it doesn’t come without costs. This new position will require even longer hours, working weekends. More stress, less time for your family. And with Phillip away . . .”
“Everything will work out perfectly.” She stood, excitement making it impossible for her to stay seated for one moment longer. She couldn’t wait to call Phillip tonight. He was going to be so proud of her. “Thank you, Dr. Shephard. For everything. I would not be the doctor I am today if it wasn’t for you. I don’t need any additional time. Not only do I want this position, but my family is behind me one hundred percent. You have nothing to worry about.”
Dr. Shephard stood and clasped her hand in both of his. “Somehow I knew that would be your answer.”
She smiled. “How?”
“Because it’s the exact same thing I said almost thirty years ago.”
For the first time since entering his office, she let her elation show. Her smile grew until it spread across her face. They were alike, she and Dr. Shephard. She’d always known it. Driven, smart, dedicated. Someday, down the road, after he’d retired, his title and this office were going to be hers. One day she would become the first female chief of staff at Seattle Trinity.
“I won’t let the hospital down, Dr. Shephard. I promise.”
He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know you won’t, Anna.”
The rest of the day flew by in a blur. The hospital, always short-staffed, was even more so without Dr. Bernard. By the time Anna pulled into her driveway, it was after eight. Letting herself in the side door, she set her coat, purse, and briefcase on the hall bench and made her way into the kitchen. The minute she stepped into the large granite and stainless steel space, she caught a whiff of something wonderful. Something that reminded her of an exquisite Italian bistro. Her stomach growled; she hadn’t eaten all day.
Her housekeeper was at the sink, finishing up the dishes. Marie turned as Anna entered. “So?”
Anna could not contain her smile. “Yes.”
Marie broke out into a huge smile. “Congratulations. But I never had any doubts.”
Anna smiled as she sank onto one of the chairs in the breakfast nook. God, it felt good to sit down. She’d been going nonstop all day. “What would I do without you?”
Marie dried her hands and went to the fridge. “You’d forget to celebrate your promotion with cake.” She pulled out a two-tiered coconut-dusted sugar confection. “Every celebration needs cake.” Her eyes twinkled, daring Anna to say anything. Most nights, Anna had a roasted chicken breast or grilled piece of fish with a small salad. But Marie was right. Tonight was different. They were celebrating.
Anna eyed the beautiful cake. “And what were you going to do with it if I didn’t get the promotion?”
“Hide it.”
Anna laughed. “Is that manicotti I smell?”
Marie nodded. “And not one word about the amount of cheese I used.”
Anna laughed again. “Deal.” Manicotti was Cody’s favorite—a fact they both knew. As always, Marie’s thoughtfulness was appreciated. Anna couldn’t wait to have this special dinner with her son.
“Thank you,” Anna said again. “Is Cody in the family room?”
Marie set the cake on the counter. “No. He went to bed a half hour ago.”
So early? That wasn’t like him. He usually fought his bedtime with as much tenacity as a grizzly bear. “Is he feeling all right?”
“He said he was just tired.”
“Did he eat dinner?”
“No. He didn’t want anything.”
Anna’s forehead creased in concern. “I’m going to head upstairs and check on him.”
“Shall I heat your dinner?”
“No.” Anna gave her a thankful smile. “I’ll get it later. You go on home. I’m sorry I kept you so long.”
“No problem. Are you sure you don’t want me to fix you a plate? It’ll only take a moment.”
“I’m sure.” Anna smiled at her again. “Now, go home. And tell your family hi.”
After Marie left, Anna headed upstairs, still worried about Cody. The only time he ever went to bed this early was when he wasn’t feeling well.
When she reached the top of the stairs, the sound of music grew louder. Light spilled out from under his door, and she couldn’t help but feel relieved. He was still up. With a perfunctory knock, she entered. He was sitting up on his bed, his sketch pad in hand and the stereo blaring—as usual. Walking over to his desk, she turned off the music, ignoring the angry look he shot her. Lately, anger seemed to be the only emotion she could elicit from him. That, and indifference. No one could do indifference better than a thirteen-year-old boy.
“Hey,” she said, taking a seat on the end of his bed. “How are you?”
“Fine.”
“Marie said you went to bed early. Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, leaning forward to feel his forehead.
He shot her another ill-tempered look. “I’m not sick.”
“Just tired?”
He went back to working on his drawing.
“Can I see your sketch?”
His pencil paused mid-stroke, but still he didn’t look up. “Maybe when I’m done.”
A pang of regret wrapped around her heart. Once, he hadn’t been able to wait to show her his drawings. Before she’d even stepped through the door after work, Cody had been there, flipping through his sketch pad, pointing out everything he’d drawn that day. As always, his talent amazed her. This son of hers who could draw anything while the only thing she could draw was a bath. Now . . . now Anna couldn’t remember the last time he’d met her at the door or asked her to look at anything. And before tonight, when was the last time she’d asked him? “Okay,” she said quietly, rubbing his sock-covered foot. “How was school?”
His pencil scratched against the pad as he made quick, deft strokes. “Fine.”
“Did you have a lot of homework?”
“No.”
“Tomorrow’s your spelling test. Do you need help—”
“I already studied.”
Anna leaned back against the footboard, working hard not to rise to the bait. Talking with her son was like pulling teeth. Slow and painful. “Marie said you didn’t eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Not even for cake?” When it was clear he wasn’t going to answer, she wiggled his foot, waited until he looked up. “I got the promotion.”
Silence.
“Come downstairs with me. We’ll have a celebration. Just the two of us.”
“I said I’m not hungry.”
She tried to hide her disappointment. “Maybe this weekend then, after I get off work. We’ll go out to a special dinner. You can pick the restaurant.”
For just a moment, his mask of indifference dropped away. “But . . .”
“What?” she prompted.
“Nothing,” he mumbled, pulling his legs up, away from her touch. Her hand slipped away.
“There’s something in that nothing.” She waited for the reluctant grin that usually followed the familiar saying, but tonight there was no smile.
“What about my game this weekend?” he finally asked.
Her smile froze. Carefully, she said, “I thought you could stay with Grandma and Grandpa this weekend while I’m at work. I know they’d love to watch your game.”
“Work?” he said, ange
r and disappointment clouding his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Cody, but with this new job, I’m going to be working more hours. Weekends.”
“So you’re not going.”
“No,” she said, feeling the weight of his disappointment. She wanted to explain how important this promotion was to her career but knew that anything she said tonight would fall on deaf ears. Hopefully, in a couple of days, when he wasn’t so upset, she could explain it to him. “I’m sorry. But there will be other games, you’ll see.”
“Whatever,” he said, propping his sketch pad higher on his bent legs until it all but hid his face.
“Cody—”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Yes, it did. But what choice did she have?
She sat there, wondering what she could say to make him understand. But the plain truth was, experience had taught her that nothing she said right now would make a difference. “I’m going to call Dad. Do you want to talk to him?”
“Why bother? He can never hear me.”
Cody had a point. Why hadn’t she been more proactive about insisting Phillip get a satellite phone?
Because until the day he’d boarded the plane, Anna had been convinced he wouldn’t go.
“I know the phone service isn’t the best, but maybe tonight—”
Cody tossed his sketch pad and pencil on the table beside his bed and grabbed his iPod. Shoving the tiny earphones in, he scooted down in his bed and punched his pillow until it was a white puff beneath his head. “I’m tired,” he said, pulling up his comforter.
He was shutting her out. Again.
She let out a quiet sigh, not knowing how to break through this barrier he’d erected. She looked at him, wishing he would look back. When he continued to ignore her, she reached out, wanting to hold him like she’d done thousands of times before, back when he was still her little boy. But the moment she reached out, he stiffened and shifted as far away from her as he could.
Silently, she drew her arm back. “Good night, Cody,” she said. “I’ll tell Dad you said hi.” At the door, she paused before turning off his light. “I love you.”
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