Together With You

by Victoria Bylin

  So much for being friendly. If Denise wanted to get to the point, so be it. Carly slipped a piece of paper from her purse. “I wrote out her routine.”

  Denise skimmed the schedule, then gave it back at Carly. “I appreciate the effort. But when Penny’s here, we’ll follow my rules.”

  “She needs consistency. I thought—”

  “Thank you, Carly. But I know my niece.”

  Denise took a step toward the door, but Carly didn’t budge. She cared about Penny enough to fight, but she needed to pick the battles that most impacted Penny. Routine was important, but Penny’s biggest heartache concerned her mother. “There’s one more thing.” She kept her tone casual, even warm. “Ryan asked about a picture of Jenna for Penny’s room. Her therapist thinks it’s a good idea.”

  Denise looked down her nose. “I haven’t opened that box yet.”

  “I know it’s hard—”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes. I lost my mom.” She didn’t mention Bette, but pink-and-silver pain cut through her. “Grief is awful for anyone, but it’s especially hard for Penny. She can’t process what happened.”

  Denise glanced at Penny wiggling the dolphin, almost smiled, but turned back to Carly with the same tight-lipped expression. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks. I’m sure Ryan would appreciate it.” Carly didn’t want to leave with the tension lingering, so she turned to a lighter subject. “He told me you’re using a zoo theme for Penny’s room. She’ll love it. You know how she feels about animals.”

  “Of course I do. She’s my niece.”

  That tone! Denise had probably used it on difficult passengers refusing to buckle up. “I just thought—”

  “I appreciate your interest, Carly. But this isn’t necessary. I know Penny as well as you do. Maybe better, since we’re flesh and blood.”

  Carly was just the nanny, but even nannies deserved respect. Full of Kentucky pride, she propped her hands on her hips. “For Penny’s sake, you and Ryan need to communicate. I’m part of that equation.”

  “Temporarily, yes.”

  “I’m here now, and I’m part of Penny’s life.”

  “But for how long?” Denise shot back. “When you leave, Ryan will be on his own again. Frankly, it worries me. She’s run away twice now. His judgment is questionable.”

  “I disagree.”

  “It’s true.”

  “There’s a reason she runs off. We’re trying to—”

  “She runs off because she’s unhappy!”

  “She’s confused. She’s—” looking for her mother, because you told her she left in a boat! With her lips sealed, Carly inhaled through her nose. “Ryan’s a good father. You haven’t seen him with her at the dinner table, or the way they play in the pool. He reads to her at night, and—”

  “Does she still call him Dr. Tremaine?”

  “No. They have a special name now.”

  Denise’s shoulders sagged inside her crisp yellow shirt. “Does she call him Daddy or something else?”

  “Dr. Daddy.”

  “That’s a little formal, isn’t it?”

  “I wouldn’t say that at all.” Carly barely kept her voice level. “They’re building a relationship—a good one. Ryan spends a lot of time with Penny. He loves her. I see it in his eyes, how he talks to her. When she has a tantrum, he holds her. He—”

  “You’re awfully quick to defend him.”

  “Because he deserves it! He’s a good father. If you could see him the way I do, you’d be impressed. Denise, he’s . . . he’s . . .” the man I love. Blood rushed to Carly’s cheeks. Hoping Denise would see anger instead of longing, she kept her chin high.

  Denise raised one eyebrow. “It’s clear how you feel about him.”

  “I respect him.”

  “Of course you do.”

  Oh, that same arrogant tone! It was full of doubt and derision, suspicion and a haughty know-it-all-ness that sent bolts of fury through Carly’s veins. Determined to put Denise in her place, she squared her shoulders. “What are you implying?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I think you are.”

  “Is there something to imply?”

  “Not a thing.” Except her cheeks were on fire, and her heart was pounding. She wished she’d kept her mouth shut, wished she hadn’t tried to talk to Denise at all. Instead of building a safety net for Penny, she’d given Denise ammo to use against Ryan. “If you’re jumping to the conclusions I think you are, you’re wrong. Ryan’s my employer. I’m a professional and so is he. There’s nothing between us.”

  “Whatever you say,” Denise said mildly.

  Annoyed with herself for bickering, Carly gave up and walked over to Penny. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay?”

  Penny held up the dolphin. “This is Donna. She swims like I do.”

  “Yes, she does.” Carly absently smoothed a strand of Penny’s hair, then kissed the top of her head.

  Penny lifted the dolphin with both hands and made it swim. “Do dolphins play in the clouds?”

  “They live in the ocean.”

  “But the clouds touch the ocean,” she said, still waving the dolphin. “My mommy likes dolphins. Do you think she swims with them?”

  A lump shoved into Carly’s throat and refused to budge. The issue of heaven, Penny’s mother, and boats needed to be clarified and soon, but she couldn’t do it now with Denise so hostile. With her chest tight, Carly headed for the front door. Denise opened it and stepped back. A jet roared in the distance, its engines whining into a vibration that shook the entire house. Penny shrieked and covered her ears.

  Denise hurried to her side and hugged her. “It’s just an airplane, sweetheart. You’ll get used to it.”

  Carly hoped so, but as she closed the door, the picture of Penny pressing her hands to her ears stayed with her. So did the knowledge that she’d given Denise a new reason to criticize Ryan. Carly needed to tell him about Denise’s accusation, a prospect she dreaded down to her toes, and something she needed to do quickly in case he wanted to call Denise himself.

  Instead of going home, she drove straight to Pacific Eye Associates. By the time she arrived, Ryan would be done with his last patient. She could speak to him in his office, then go shopping or get coffee or walk on the beach, anywhere but to his house after what promised to be an awkward conversation.

  When Ryan finished with his last patient, he went to his office to finish making notes in the computer. It was better than dictating, but he disliked the chore, especially now that he looked forward to being home for dinner. He was in the middle of the fourth report when Fran’s voice came over the intercom.

  “Carly’s here. Shall I send her back?”

  “Yes, please.” This was her first visit to the practice, and he wondered if there was trouble with one of the kids. He shoved out of the chair and met her in the hallway.

  Her rueful expression put his mind at ease. What she had to say wasn’t a matter of life or death. Maybe she’d dented the van. “What’s up?” he asked, indicating she should step into his office.

  She crossed the threshold, took in the big desk and the art on the walls, but stayed on her feet. “I’ll only be a minute. I have to tell you about my conversation with Denise. It was mildly crazy.”

  “Just mildly?”

  “More than mildly.” She gave a mock shudder. “I can’t believe I let her get to me, but you know how she is.”

  “All too well.” She’d stopped texting him with exclamation points since moving, but he felt even more like that bug under a microscope. “If you told her off, I’ll give you a raise.”

  “I tried.”

  “So what happened?”

  Carly winced in that sweet way of hers. “This is a bit awkward, but—”

  His desk phone gave two short rings, a signal from Fran. “I better take it,” he said as he hit the speaker button. “Yes?”

  “Sorry to interrupt, but a drug rep needs a signature.”
/>   “I’ll be there in a minute.” He turned back to Carly. “Maybe we should get out of here after I see the rep. It’s going to be one thing after another.”

  She glanced at his desk loaded with mail and files, then at the computer monitor that promised even more work. “I guess we can finish at home.”

  Ryan had a better idea. “Eric’s with Nathan, right?”

  “Yes, for a sleepover.”

  “Penny’s gone and Kyle’s hanging out with Taylor. Let’s have dinner out for a change.”

  While Carly gnawed on her lip, his phone rang again. This time he ignored it. “What do you say?”

  “I was going to run some errands.”

  “Could it wait?”

  A long silence hung in the air. “I guess, but don’t you have a lot to do?”

  “There’s nothing urgent. Just the drug rep, and that’ll take a minute.”

  Her nose wrinkled in a way that reminded him of a rabbit pondering the way to escape a coyote. “Okay,” she finally said.

  “How about a tour before you go?” He enjoyed sharing what he did.

  “Sure. I’d like that.”

  Mindful of the drug rep, he put on his jacket, turned off the light, and headed for the closet holding samples. With Carly next to him, he gave the rep one minute to give him the spiel, signed the man’s tablet, then motioned for Carly to follow him down a corridor decorated with lithographs by a local artist.

  At the end of the hall, he flipped on a light in a room he used two or three times a day for laser surgery. As she took in the sophisticated equipment, he told her a little about the procedures he performed.

  Carly ran her hand along the table holding a laser. “It’s amazing what you can do.”

  “It’s science.”

  “It’s healing,” she said, lifting her chin.

  Ryan expected more from her, maybe a pitch for Christianity, but she walked out of the room, leaving him with a thought that often plagued him. As an ophthalmologist, he understood the workings of the human eye, but he couldn’t explain the randomness of conditions like macular degeneration, retinopathy, cataracts. Some people lost their vision; others didn’t. No matter how skilled Ryan was, he couldn’t make the blind see. Some things in life really were a mystery.

  He showed Carly the four exam rooms, the break room, and the optical shop with its wall of eyeglass frames. She plucked a pair off the wall, put them on, and faced him. “What do you think?”

  They were big, black, and goofy. Ryan laughed. “Those are the Groucho glasses.” He reached for a pair above her head. “Try these.”

  They were from a line named for a Hollywood actress, diamond studded, and a deep purple. Old ladies loved them. Carly put them on and giggled. “Does anyone actually wear these?”

  “Only Mrs. Wigglebottom.”

  Chuckling, she plucked them off her nose. Ryan handed her another pair. They were like the Groucho glasses but for women. He had a hunch she’d look cute in them.

  She balanced them on her nose, then made a goofy face in the mirror. “Nerd girl!”

  “Or a librarian.” A sexy one.

  As she pouted into the mirror, it occurred to him that taking her out to dinner bordered on a date. And if he told the truth, he didn’t mind that idea at all.

  As soon as Carly walked with Ryan into the candle-lit restaurant, she wished she’d turned down his invitation. She had no business eating alone with him, especially in a place lit almost solely by pillar candles in wrought-iron sconces. There were even more candles on the tables, and the high-backed booths made each table private.

  They had agreed on Rosa’s Hacienda because of the food. Without Penny, whose taste buds rebelled at anything spicy or slimy, they were free to indulge in enchiladas, salsa, and guacamole. Normally Carly’s mouth would have watered at the delicious aromas, but when she thought of the conversation about Denise, dread stole her appetite. Nervous, she followed the hostess to a booth in the back corner, Ryan trailing behind her. A waiter brought chips and salsa and they ordered.

  As soon as the menu left his hand, Ryan turned to her. “So what happened with Denise?”

  Where did Carly start? A slow buildup or a running jump off the cliff? Taking a breath, she jumped off the cliff. “She thinks you and I are romantically involved. It’s ridiculous, of course.”

  Ryan said nothing. Not a word. But candlelight danced in his eyes as he reached for a chip. “I don’t think it’s ridiculous at all. It’s not true, but it’s not ridiculous.”

  “Of course it’s ridiculous.”

  “Why?”

  Refusing to be flustered, she ignored the roguish quirk of his dark brows. “It has to be ridiculous.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it is. Denise is looking for trouble.”

  “Maybe.” Ryan dipped a chip in the salsa. “A lot of people would make the same assumption. You and I are both mature adults. It’s how most people live now.”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Carly had all sorts of opinions about the modern dating culture, especially as a social worker who’d seen both teenagers and twenty-something moms struggle to raise their kids alone. The teens, unable to support themselves, ended up with a parent or relative. The twenty-somethings broke her heart even more. They were stuck in dead-end jobs in retail or call centers. On their own, they juggled rent, day care, child-rearing, and dating in a never-ending battle for both financial and emotional security.

  Carly loved talking about relationships, romance, and everything in between, but she didn’t want to have that conversation with Ryan, especially not the part where she talked to teenage girls about treating their bodies with respect. When her father preached about purity from the pulpit, he spoke for Carly, too. “The God-given instinct to procreate is one of the strongest forces of nature, and what do we do? We put off marriage until we finish school, have jobs, and buy houses with big mortgages. That’s a long time, folks. I have to wonder if we’ve put material needs before the need to love and be loved.”

  With Ryan seated across from her, his eyes glinting with something indecipherable, she understood her father’s lament in a deeply personal way. She struggled with that exact trade-off. She loved her work, but she very much wanted to be a wife and mother. And, like her father said, physical desire was one of the strongest forces of nature, one she battled as much as any human being.

  Seated across from Ryan now, she couldn’t help but notice his strong jaw, the width of his shoulders, the amused-yet-serious set of his mouth.

  He reached for a second chip. “You know what I’m saying, Carly. Surely you’ve had a boyfriend or two.”

  Her almost-fiancé in college was none of his business, but if she reacted too strongly, he’d wonder why. Determined to be true to herself, she kept her voice casual. “A few. A serious one in college.”

  “So you get it.”

  “Get what?” She knew what he meant but wanted to hear his idea of what it was. He stared at her as if she were an idiot, which she wasn’t. “Of course I know what can happen. But we all make choices—personal ones.” She’d made hers to wait for marriage, and while the choice wasn’t easy, she had no regrets.

  “Is ‘personal’ code for ‘mind your own business’?”

  “Yes.”

  His hand rose in mock surrender. “You brought it up. Not me.”

  “Denise brought it up.” Carly nudged the chip basket closer to him. “I thought you should know.”

  He opened his mouth to respond, but the waiter arrived with their meals—carne asada for him and chiles rellenos for her. The food smelled delicious and she was hungry. With a little luck, Ryan would be quiet now and eat.

  When he cut into the steak, she relaxed. But he stopped short of lifting the fork to his mouth. With his hand poised over his plate, he studied her. “I have the feeling I hit a nerve.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Are you sure? Because if I crosse
d a line, I want to apologize.”

  “Drop it. Please.” She did not want to have this conversation. He was too male, too strong, and a reminder that she was twenty-eight and single. Determined to shove her rattled nerves back into place, she cut the chile relleno with her fork, pressing so hard metal scraped on the plate.

  As she raised the bite to her lips, she glanced at Ryan. With the candle throwing shadows on his face, he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen, ever met, ever known as a friend. A wanting took root in her belly, and she thought of the teenage crushes she’d had on movie stars, even the boy in her chemistry class. Those crushes had been safe, because they were pure fantasy, even the crush on the boy in chemistry, because he was a football star and didn’t notice her.

  But Ryan was sitting across from her. He was real, one hundred percent male, and studying her as if she were an exotic flower. His thoughts were a mystery to her, which she supposed was for the best. He belonged in “crush” land, not in reality.

  “Carly?”

  She saw determination in his eyes and braced for a battle with two enemies—her heart, because her feelings had to be hidden, and with Ryan, who needed to be told again to mind his own business. Except dodging him seemed cowardly. If she didn’t stick up for her beliefs, who would? The thought unnerved her, but she was also her father’s daughter and her Father’s daughter. If Queen Esther could stand up to a powerful Persian king for the sake of her people, surely Carly could handle an awkward conversation with Ryan.

  With that thought firmly in her mind, she met his gaze and held it. “All right, we’ll talk. What do you want to know?”

  22

  I don’t mean to pry, but I wonder if someone hurt you.”

  Carly’s mouth was full, so she couldn’t reply. But displeasure shot from her eyes and she chewed faster, obviously eager to tell him to back off.

  Ryan took advantage and spoke his mind. “Whoever the guy was, he was an idiot.”

  Finally she swallowed. “That’s not it.”

  “Then what is it?”

  She paused with the fork poised over the plate, her eyes slightly narrowed and her chin up. The coolness in her expression rankled him, or maybe what rankled him was the intensity of his curiosity about that boyfriend.