The Nurse and the Single Dad

by Dianne Drake

  “And there I am. Coming in behind Elizabeth, again. Another kiss, another anything, can’t work if I’m always having to stand in line.”

  She was right, of course. It was his fault she was in this awkward position. But for the life of him he couldn’t think how to remedy it, because all remedies took Elizabeth away from him, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for that yet. Not even for Zoey. “So I take it you don’t want an omelet?”

  “I didn’t say that,” she said.

  “Then you do want an omelet?”

  “I didn’t say that, either.”

  “Do you know what you do want, Zoey?”

  “If I knew, you’d be the first one I’d tell.”

  And, if he knew what he wanted, Zoey would be the first one he’d tell.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “NO, I DON’T WANT hot peppers in my omelet,” Zoey stated emphatically, turning up her nose at the suggestion. “Don’t care for them.”

  “Ever?” Daniel asked, smiling as he placed the carton of eggs back in the fridge.

  “Ever! Don’t like to eat them, don’t like to look at them...” She shuddered. “Especially don’t like the after-burn that comes with them.”

  “But I love them. The hotter, the better.”

  “Then, by all means, put them in your omelet. Just make sure none of them encroach on mine.” She wasn’t a fanatic about what she liked to eat. Pretty much, she’d eat anything. But she didn’t like extra-spicy food, and Daniel’s peppers were extra-spicy.

  “What about putting a small amount of hot pepper in a recipe? Something like a stew, or maybe nacho cheese?”

  “You’re testing my limits here, Daniel. I don’t like hot!” She handed him a big, juicy tomato and the knife to cut it with.

  “OK, I get the hot thing. Some people just can’t take the heat.”

  “I sweat, and my eyes water. And that’s not even to mention how my throat feels.”

  “But you’re sure you like eggs? Because we can fix something else if you don’t.”

  “Eggs aren’t spicy, and spicy is the only thing I don’t eat.”

  “But I could put hot sauce in the eggs,” he teased.

  “And I could go home and fix a tuna-salad sandwich.”

  “Or stay here with me and trust that I won’t go near the peppers and hot sauce tonight, even though they’re usually a prominent ingredient in the omelets I fix for myself.”

  “Eggs, cheese, non-spicy veggies...that’s what I want. So, if you can do that without being tempted to betray me, we’ll get along fine.”

  “Is an onion too spicy?”

  “Onions are OK.”

  “And radishes?”

  “Radishes in an omelet?” She shook her head. “Sounds peculiar to me.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t going to put a radish in the omelet. I just wanted to see if you like them.”

  “They make me burp.” She recognized the Vidalia onion in the fridge and was glad she found a sweet variety. “So I don’t eat them.”

  “So now, that’s hot peppers, hot sauce and radishes. Anything else I should know about you?”

  “Is this a food quiz?” she asked as she grabbed a knife from the drawer to dice the onion. “Or are you at a loss for better conversation?”

  “Just trying to get to know you.”

  “Through my eating preferences?”

  “Want to talk about your reading preferences instead? Personally, I like biographies. Especially ones that have to do with the Civil War. Oh, and medieval anything.”

  “I like mysteries, especially the ones that have a little romance included. And I like medical dramas, too.”

  “I read medical journals, and they’re pretty dramatic.”

  Zoey laughed. “Not the same.” This was fun, cooking with him, engaging in light, almost nonsensical conversation. It was something that would be so easy to get used to.

  “Well, I haven’t really read a novel in a couple of years, so I guess that ends our book discussion. Want to move on to music?”

  “In a word, classical.”

  “As in Bach, Beethoven and the rest of the gang?” He scooped onions, tomato and a cut-up zucchini into a bowl and mixed them all together.

  “I love the solo piano, so I’m particularly fond of Chopin.”

  “I don’t know about Chopin so much, but I do like Chain.”

  “Chain?”

  “The late, great Harry Chain. Great songwriter. Great singer.”

  “Then you like the oldies?”

  “Oldies—oh, and jazz.”

  “I like jazz, too.”

  “Then we’ll have to go to a jazz club some night. I know a great place downtown. Used to go there a lot with...” He shook his head. A reminiscent smile touched his lips. “Actually, there’s another place near Everett that’s supposed to be good. Maybe we’ll try that some night.”

  So he didn’t want to take her to one of the places where he had fond memories of Elizabeth. They’d already gone to Giovanni’s, another place he and Elizabeth had gone to, and she imagined that had been rough on him. So, what else dredged up his memories? Cooking together in the kitchen? Maybe something as simple as omelets?

  It occurred to Zoey that there would always be an Elizabeth-shaped stumbling block in the road, and that thought took her completely out of the lighthearted moment they’d been having. Elizabeth—a brilliant cook, a brilliant attorney, a brilliant everything. And here Zoey was, feeling so inadequate. It made her wonder what Daniel saw in her. All this was beginning to make Zoey wish she’d never come here this evening. There was still too much of Elizabeth here. Too many remnants, too many memories. Her presence absolutely filled every nook and cranny of Daniel’s house, if not his life, which intimidated Zoey.

  Am I trying to measure up? Zoey asked herself while Daniel cracked the eggs for the omelet and she grated the cheese. Truthfully, she didn’t know. Didn’t know why it mattered to her so much. But it did.

  “Elizabeth lived a very full life,” Zoey said. It was a hard thing to say, as Zoey was beginning to doubt her own capabilities when compared to anything Elizabeth had accomplished.

  “You do, too,” Daniel stated. He pulled two plates down from the kitchen cabinet and set them next to the stove. “I mean, look at what you do! It’s amazing.”

  Amazing, maybe. But could it hold a candle to Elizabeth? “My life is my work. There’s nothing else.”

  “Because you want it that way?” he asked. Standing at the kitchen counter, ready to put the omelets together and cook them, he turned sideways to study her. “Or because you’ve never put yourself out there to see what else you can find?”

  “I suppose you put yourself out there!” she snapped, feeling so inferior right now that all she wanted to do was run away and bury her head in the sand somewhere.

  “I’m putting myself out there with you, and I’m sure not getting very far.”

  He was being so unusually forward it almost hurt her feelings. “You don’t know me at all, Daniel.”

  “Through no fault of my own. I’ve been trying, Zoey. Every chance I get.”

  “I know you have, and I appreciate that.”

  “But I want you to do more than appreciate it.”

  “What?” she asked him. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Relax a little. Sometimes you get so close, then all of a sudden it’s like you have second thoughts and you pull back. The thing is, I don’t want you to pull back because, in spite of it all, I enjoy being around you. But the problem is, I can’t figure you out. Can’t figure what you really want. And you don’t make it easy for me to find out.”

  “Why does it mean that much to you?” she asked him.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe it’s
as simple as I don’t like being rejected. Or maybe it’s more complicated, like I’m developing feelings for you.” He shrugged. “Take your pick.”

  “What if I don’t want you to have feelings for me?”

  “I don’t think that’s up to you.” He smiled at her. “You can’t control everything, Zoey. I know you might want to, but some things simply happen because they happen, and there’s nothing about them that you can control.”

  “Like your feelings for me?” This was getting deep. Too deep. Probably because, in spite of all her efforts to hold back, she was also developing feelings. But with feelings came hopes and dreams, neither of which she could afford to have with Daniel.

  “I probably shouldn’t have said anything because now you’re thinking about running away. Aren’t you?”

  “Not running away so much as being more cautious.” This night wasn’t turning out as she’d planned. What she’d wanted was a quiet dinner for two, some pleasant and inconsequential conversation, and a lingering feeling of contentment. What she was getting, however, was the feeling that she wanted more than she could even admit to herself.

  “Because I challenge you?”

  “Not you, Daniel. It’s everything you come with that challenges me. And I didn’t come here to be challenged. I mean, you’re obviously looking for something I am not, which leaves us...”

  “Grappling with what to do,” he supplied.

  “See, I could understand if this was just about sex. It’s been a while for you, a while for me, so we could do it—sweat out a few good moments together, then get on with it. Or if this was about simply wanting a new friend we could commit to that, even with all these uneasy feelings I think we’re both having about where we stand with each other, and move forward from there. But you’re right. It’s more complicated than that, and I don’t think either of us is prepared to deal with that.”

  “Why do we have to be prepared for anything? Can’t we just take it as it comes?”

  “No, because I have to see where I’m going, and I don’t want to be forced into anything that I can’t see. My past history proves that I didn’t used to do that, and I don’t want to repeat the past.” Marriage to Brad had taught her a very hard lesson. With him, taking it as it came meant she’d jumped in with her whole heart only to be kicked around for it. Next time she would prepare herself for it before she jumped in with anything. Use her head first. Not her heart. And, in Daniel’s case, her head was screaming a succession of “be carefuls” at her. Unfortunately, her heart was also screaming, and it wasn’t a warning to beware.

  “Do you think I’m trying to force you into something, Zoey?”

  “I don’t know. Are you?”

  “That day in the coffee shop, I was glad to see you. The next time I saw you, at the fundraising banquet, I wondered if we could be friends, and I suppose I acted on that. But I’m not trying to force you into being my friend, lover, partner or anything else if you don’t want to be.”

  At this point, Zoey wasn’t sure what she wanted. “The thing is, after Elizabeth’s death we went a whole year without ever seeing each other, then suddenly we’re involved. And I don’t know where that’s going. I can’t see past right now!”

  “Maybe because I’m always treading on eggshells when I’m around you, trying not to frighten you. And I’m not even sure what it is about me that frightens you.”

  “Your own eggshells, Daniel. That’s what frightens me.”

  “My eggshells?”

  “Your attachment to Elizabeth. It’s not a bad thing. In fact, I think it’s a very good thing. But it consumes so much of you, I wonder if there’s any room left in you for something else.” Or someone else.

  “I’m painfully aware of that, Zoey. And I’m trying hard to step away from it, but at the end of the day I’m still a widower who hasn’t found his direction yet. And it’s not that I don’t want to, because I do.”

  “Which leaves us where?” she asked him, suddenly exhausted from all the talk. They were going around in circles now, pointing out all the pitfalls but not able to get around them.

  Daniel sighed as he scooped the prepared omelets onto the plates and headed toward the kitchen table—a casual set-up across from the kitchen sink. “It leaves us forging a friendship that shouldn’t be this difficult. It also leaves us wondering if we’re building up to something more than just a friendship.”

  Zoey shook her head. “Well, I guess we both have a lot of obstacles, don’t we?”

  “Moving forward’s tough, Zoey. God knows I’m trying, but it’s something I never counted on having to do alone.”

  “And it’s something I never counted on doing with anybody.”

  Daniel chuckled. “Aren’t we the pair?” He pulled out a chair for Zoey and, once she had taken a seat, he sat down opposite her. “I think I’ve always had a problem with moving forward. Basically, I can be a very contented man, happy with what I have, happy with where I am. Contentment comes easily to me and I don’t like to test it.”

  “Were you always like that, even when you were a kid?” she asked him. “Or did Elizabeth bring about that contentment?”

  “A little bit of both, I think. When I was a kid I always held back, and that was fine by me. Damien took the lead, and as often as not I lagged behind and watched, not sure what I could do to keep up with him. But that was OK for me because I was always good where I was. And with Elizabeth...” He sighed and his eyes glowed with a distant memory. “I can’t even begin to describe how it was with her. She had this amazing way of making me happy, even with the little things that other people probably wouldn’t notice.”

  “Such as?”

  “We went out and bought juice glasses one time. They had sunflowers on them—pretty, I suppose, but they really weren’t of much consequence. Elizabeth liked them, though. She smiled every time she picked one up and saw the sunflower. And, for some strange reason, I looked forward to that moment in our morning routine. It was one of those little things...”

  Zoey imagined he still had those sunflowers. “My husband never noticed anything about me except my paychecks.”

  “That’s too bad, because there are a lot of things to notice.”

  “Are you trying to flatter me?”

  Daniel shook his head, smiling. “Just being honest.”

  “Well, your honesty stirs a lack of confidence in me.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously,” she admitted, taking a first bite of her omelet, even though her appetite had disappeared a while ago. “Everybody lies, Daniel, when they’re trying to get something.”

  “So what do you think I’m trying to get?”

  Zoey shrugged. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”

  “But you’re hanging around to find out?”

  “Maybe I am.” In spite of her misgivings about him, he stimulated her in ways no one else had ever done. His directness caused her to think. “Time will tell, I suppose.”

  “Do you realize that you’re implying we’ve got more time together?”

  “Isn’t that what you want?” she asked him.

  “I think the more appropriate question here is, isn’t that what you want?”

  “You’re twisting my words.” As well as her heart. Daniel was a man who could be so easy to love. So did she, on some unconscious level, want that?

  * * *

  The conversation eventually turned to Maddie, then to Zoey’s hobby of climbing and her fascination with keeping fit, and eventually to Daniel’s twin who was, apparently, getting tangled up in a complicated relationship situation of his own. Nowhere in the conversation, though, was there a mention of their own feelings, doubts and fears. Which was nice, as Zoey didn’t want to take all that home with her then try to sleep on it. “The omelet was wonderful,” she said, once she’d
eaten all she could.

  “Next time I’ll stop at the store and buy some better ingredients for it. More veggies, better cheese...” He smiled. “A nice bottle of wine, because I like the idea of having wine with an intimate dinner.”

  She opened her eyes wide and smiled. “You’re a romantic.” Was it by nature, she wondered, or had it been taught by Elizabeth? An image of Daniel and Elizabeth enjoying an intimate dinner suddenly popped into her mind, but before it could etch itself there indelibly she blinked it away and forced herself to concentrate on the half-eaten omelet on her plate.

  “I used to be. I’m sort of out of practice now.”

  “I’ve heard it’s like riding a bicycle,” she said without enthusiasm, as Elizabeth kept trying to force her way back in. “Once you learn, you never really forget.”

  “Until you fall off the damned thing and skin your knee.”

  She looked back up at Daniel. “But you’re a doctor. You know how to treat a skinned knee.” Or an intimate dinner meant for one person but with someone else in mind. “Look, it’s getting late, we’re both tired and I’ve got an early appointment in the morning. So I’d better take off.”

  Daniel pushed back his chair and stood up. “Do you think we could do this again sometime?”

  “I’ll think about it,” she said cautiously.

  His eyes sparkled. “Why did I know that’s what you’d say?”

  “Because I’m predictable?”

  “Trust me. You’re not predictable, Zoey. Not predictable at all.”

  Up out of her chair and heading to the front door, Zoey stopped in the middle of Daniel’s living room and turned around to face him. He was so dangerously close to her now, she could smell his aftershave, and for an instant she closed her eyes and imagined this to be an intimate moment between them. Like the one they’d had in the elevator earlier. He was taking her into his arms; she was offering herself up to him. Lips meeting. Sighs escaping. It was a wonderful fantasy for that instant, but she put it away so quickly it nearly caused her head to swim.

  She did want Daniel, but it was not in a way she could fathom that he wanted to be wanted. Daniel wasn’t ready, and maybe he didn’t even know that. But she did. Keenly. “Let’s talk again in a couple of days,” she finally said. “OK?”