More Than Memories: A Second Chance Standalone Romance

by N. E. Henderson

  “Okay. Good.” Her spirit perks up. “I love you, Shane. So much, and I’m coming for you too. Not just for Whit. I’m coming for you.”

  “Doctor Braden, you’re needed in room two,” the female voice from the intercom filters in from the hallway.

  “I heard,” she says. “See ya in a couple of days, Shaney.”

  God, I hate when she calls me that.

  “Call in an Ortho consult for me for the upper extremity,” I relay to Roxanne on the other side of the patient’s bed as I look over the x-rays from the computer I have rolled up next to the bedside.

  “Got it.” She squeezes the five-year-old boy’s arm. “You’re gonna be okay, little man.”

  He has a fracture to his femur from a trampoline accident. They’ve become more common in the last few years with the increased number of trampoline parks opening. Luckily, he isn’t one of the cases that end up with damage to their spinal cord.

  “She’s right,” I confirm, turning away from the monitor. “You’ll be in a cast for several weeks, but you’ll be okay soon enough.” I cut my eyes over to the boy’s mother who is chewing on her bottom lip from the chair she’s perched on. “I want one of the Orthopedic Surgeons to reset his bones. Did the nurse ask you what pharmacy you prefer?” I finish with.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I’m going to call him in a prescription for pain. If he needs it give it to him, but if he’s fine you don’t have to. So just as needed.” I eye her to make sure she fully understands my instructions.

  She nods her head, then stares at her son with pain in her eyes. It makes me think about Everly. Obviously, I like children. I chose Pediatrics because the thought of any child sick, in pain, or even worse, made me sick to my stomach. I wanted to help them. I wanted to do anything in my power to make sure they grew into healthy adults. But now . . . Now I have a child, and I’m seeing things in a different light. Whereas before, I wanted to help, now I need to. The feeling is different. I hate to say it, but it’s more real somehow. It’s a deeper feeling.

  My eyes skirt over to the door. Roxanne enters, walking to my side. Calvin Anderson, an Orthopedic Trauma Surgeon, follows in behind her. He looks directly at my patient, smiling.

  “I hear you took a dive off a trampoline.” His voice is playful as he curls his fingers around the plastic at the end of the hospital bed the boy is lying in. The kid’s face turns from one in pain to looking scared, in a matter of seconds. “It’s okay, little buddy. I’m just messing with you. I’m Dr. Anderson.”

  The kid apparently didn’t understand his attempt to lighten the mood.

  He cocks his head toward Roxanne and me, his expression turning professional. “Dr. Braden, pull up the x-rays for me.”

  “Got ’em on the screen for you already.” I step back, showing the computer screen to my right as I get out of his way to come view them. Roxanne follows my steps, staying a little too close to my side for my liking. Another intern or anyone really and it wouldn’t bother me. But I think she does it purposely.

  He takes a few minutes scanning the images before turning his attention over to the boy’s mother.

  “Mom,” he greets the boy’s mother. She’s still chomping down on her lip, but she’s now standing by the bedside, clutching her son’s hand. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “He was fine one minute, then an older kid jumped on the section he was on, and he bounced too high I guess. He landed awkwardly.” Her lip trembles like she’s holding back tears, and I suppose she is.

  “Yeah,” Calvin comments. “That’s certainly a recipe for disaster, but the break is clean. We’ll get him to surgery to reset it then it’ll be cast, and it should heal fine. What questions do you have?”

  “How long will he be in the cast?” she asks.

  “Usually it’s six to eight weeks, but sometimes longer. Most patients return to normal activities within twelve to eighteen weeks. I’d like to see him in my clinic in two weeks for a post-operative check-up.” Dr. Anderson looks my way. “Will you put that in the discharge notes so he’ll get scheduled timely?”

  “Of course.” I nod.

  “Great. Let’s get you to the OR, young man.” He steps away from the boy’s bed, addressing the mother as he walks. “Mom, if you’ll follow me, we’ll head up.”

  After the kid is wheeled out of the exam room, I linger to finish up the notes inside his chart on the computer.

  “So a kid, huh?”

  Roxanne brushes up against me as I hit the acceptance button, saving my notes. With a few more clicks, I quickly sign off.

  She’s been quiet all day. Since I told her I couldn’t go out tonight because I have a daughter at home, I’ve been expecting her to say something. I didn’t expect silence. I was thankful for it. It’s not something I want to discuss with people yet. I still don’t know what the future holds.

  I won’t let either one of them go without a fight this time.

  “Uh-huh,” I affirm.

  “How old?”

  “Nine. She’ll be ten next month.”

  “So what?” Her shoulders rise, then drop. “She never let you know? That’s kinda shitty, Shane. I’m so sorry. If you need—”

  “Look, Rox, it’s a long story. One I don’t feel like getting into, but she didn’t keep me from our daughter on purpose. She didn’t know.” She gawks at me, telling me she thinks Whitney must have slept with more than one guy in high school. “It’s not what you’re thinking, but I’m not going to explain. It’s too much, and I need to wrap-up before our shift ends.”

  “Okay,” she whispers as she turns to leave the room. I’m momentarily relieved until she halts, pivoting to face me ten feet away. “If you need anyone to talk to, my door is always open. I don’t have kids or anything, but you know I help out with my sister’s kids when she needs me.”

  I nod.

  “Thanks. Kylie, my best friend, is coming up from Florida in a couple of days so . . .” I trail off just as my phone vibrates through the back pocket of my scrubs. “Excuse me, will ya? There’s something I need to check.” I walk around her and out the exam room door.

  Pushing through the Emergency Room door leading out of the ER and into the hospital, I find the stairwell entrance down the hall. I pull open the door, secluding myself inside for privacy before retrieving my cell and then opening the message.

  Jacob: Just landed. Once I get my luggage, I’ll be in route.

  Me: Thanks. I still have another hour, but Whitney is at my apartment. Feel free to go on over.

  Jacob: See you then, Son.

  I shoot a message to Whitney, letting her know Taralynn’s dad is on his way.

  Me: Jacob’s flight just landed. He’ll head there next. Will you let him in? I’ll be home in about an hour and half.

  Love: Sure. I can do that.

  Me: Thanks!

  Love.

  When she texted me earlier letting me know her new number, that’s what I logged her name as. I didn’t do it intentionally. It was after I saved it that I realized I had.

  She is my love. She’ll always be my love. I just have to get her to remember. And if not . . . I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing the stinging sensation back. If she doesn’t, then I’ll make this Whitney fall in love with me.

  Because I can’t go another day without her in my life. I won’t.

  Pushing open the unlocked door of my apartment, I enter to the smell of something that makes my stomach growl. It also has me wondering if Taralynn is here. That girl can cook as good as my mother, and anytime I’m rewarded with one of her meals it makes me wish for what my brother has.

  If his stupid ass can keep her, that is. But I can’t worry with their relationship now. I have my own worries with all that’s fallen into my lap in the last few days.

  “Love,” I call out as I close the door behind me. Everly looks up from the couch where she and her sister are watching television. There’s a cartoon playing. I remember me at Everly’s age, and baby cartoon
s weren’t on any list of fun activities I wanted to do. She’s a good big sister. I can see it just in the couple of days I’ve been watching her.

  “We’re in here,” Whitney calls out from the kitchen off to the right of the living room.

  “Everly.” I greet my daughter who hasn’t taken her eyes off me since I walked through the door. She’s been looking at me strangely since we left my brother’s house Sunday night. I guess I’d be looking at me that way too if I were in her shoes. A man she’s never met in her life is now not only a part of it, but she’s living with him. Yeah, I think I’d be weirded out.

  “Hi,” she finally whispers when I’m walking past the couch toward the kitchen.

  “Hiiiii!” I chuckle as Emersyn copies her sister because it makes me remember when Shawn did it. It annoyed me. I’m glad it doesn’t seem to do the same with Everly.

  “Hey, Em,” I tell her, looking over my shoulder.

  Entering the kitchen, I see Whitney and Jacob sitting at the small, round table in the corner. My kitchen is small, but for an apartment, it’s not that small. I have enough room for the small table and a tiny island in the center of the space.

  “Shane,” Jacob greets. “How are you, Son?” I eye him as I walk over to the granite counter next to my refrigerator, dropping my keys and wallet down followed by hooking my cell phone up to the charger that’s already in the outlet. “Scratch that, don’t answer.”

  “Thanks for coming.” I walk over to where they’re sitting, taking a seat in one of the two remaining empty chairs. “I appreciate it.”

  “It’s no problem. It’s not like I have anything besides an empty condo to return to.”

  “How are things with you and Taralynn?”

  I know she’s trying to forgive her dad. He kept so much from her. Since Shawn told me, I’ve had a tough time deciding if I should tell her I suspect Trent knew the truth. He was extreme when it came to watching out for her. He argued with his mother at least once a week over his sister. He didn’t like the way Katherine treated them differently. In fact, he hated it. And something about it got to him. After I had learned the truth, I remembered something he said once when he was pissed off at his mom. She’s never accepted Taralynn as hers. Now I know what he meant. I didn’t back then, but now it makes sense.

  She may be the only one that understands what I’m dealing with and here I am keeping something else from her. The only difference is Trent is dead. Whitney and our daughter aren’t. What purpose would it serve to soil the way Taralynn remembers her brother?

  “I need to check on dinner. It should be ready soon.” Whitney rises from her seat.

  “You cooked?” I ask, surprised.

  “Yeah.” She smiles. “Who else would have done it?” A laugh breaks through her lips as she passes behind Jacob’s chair to walk to the stove.

  He smirks as he looks at me, knowing I thought it was his daughter. I shrug. We all benefit from her skills.

  “I hope you’re both hungry. And haven’t eaten yet.” She looks over her shoulder. “I guess I should have told you I was cooking. Sorry. I didn’t think to do that.”

  “It’s fine, Love. Anything you need help with?”

  “Uh-uh.” Her head shakes.

  “Ahem.” Jacob clears his throat, getting my attention. “Whitney has filled me in on a few things my daughter didn’t tell me. I am sorry, Shane. I know this has to be tough.”

  I look behind me, making sure Everly isn’t in earshot. I want her to know I’m her father. I want that more than anything, but I don’t want her to find out because she overheard someone say it. I want Whitney and me to tell her together—and soon.

  After turning back to face him, I nod.

  “What do we need to do first? She’s my daughter. I want her last name changed. I don’t want Blake to have any rights to her.”

  A dish clatters, making me look over at Whitney. Her back is to us, but her body is still. She knew I had to want all of this. I’m not sorry either. She doesn’t fully understand what her parents did to us—did to me. Or what Blake Lane’s part was in keeping us apart. I lost the first ten years of our daughter’s life. Everly isn’t the only thing I lost either. If I hadn’t wrecked that night, she would have never lost her memory. We’d be married, raising our daughter together. We’d be together and maybe even have another child by now instead of her having one with someone else.

  I can’t change the past. If I could, I’d go back to do things differently. But I can make damn sure the future is one that we both want. I just hope I’m what she wants when this is all said and done.

  I turn my focus back on Jacob. She needs to hear everything. She doesn’t have to agree to all, and I won’t push her, but I will be a part of Everly’s life even if Whitney chooses not to be a part of mine.

  “If Whitney wants one”—I curl my palm around the edge of the seat I’m sitting on—“what’s the quickest way to start a divorce? And can one be rushed?” I want everything out in the open, so I continue, letting not just Jacob, but Whitney know what I’d like to happen. “Can both girls be kept from Blake?”

  I don’t want the man ever around Whitney or the girls again—Emersyn included. I don’t trust what he’ll do now that the truth is out. If he’s capable of lying to a woman to get her to marry him, then what else is he capable of? I don’t want to find out.

  “Well,” Jacob starts. “I can have a judge order a paternity test tomorrow. Then you can contest the birth certificate. I have a good friend that’s a judge here in Memphis. That shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll call him tonight. Since Whitney has the girls in her custody now, he can’t just come take them nor can the law remove them without just cause. I can try to get an emergency hearing later this week or early next week to get a court-ordered custody arrangement, if that’s what Whitney wants. It sounds like we have a justified cause for it. Plus, that’ll keep him from leaving the state legally if his daughter is ever in his custody.”

  He looks at Whitney—who’s still standing on the other side of the room. She is facing us now.

  “You and I talked. Am I correct; you pretty much want the same things Shane stated?”

  Her eyes glide over at me but she just stares without saying anything. Her chest rises high, but then falls just as quickly. Finally, she walks over without losing eye contact. My heart feels like it’s lodged in my throat waiting for her to speak.

  “I want a divorce.” She sits, still looking at me. “I don’t want to stay married to him any longer than I absolutely have to. And I don’t want him anywhere near either of my girls. I want full custody of both of them.” I keep my emotions in check the best I can. For the most part, she’s saying what I wanted her to. But whether she realizes it or not, Everly is half mine, and I’m going to have joint custody of her if she and I aren’t together. I will not spend another second that I don’t have to without my little girl. “Whatever we need to do”—she turns to Jacob—“let’s get it started as soon as possible.”

  “Okay. I’m going to clear my schedule tomorrow and remain in Memphis tonight in case I need to file anything with the county. Did you get married in Tennessee?”

  “Yes,” she tells him.

  “Okay, then. I need to make that call and find a hotel.” He pushes the chair back before standing.

  “Can’t you stay for dinner? I made plenty, and I promise, I’m not a horrible cook.”

  “Thanks, Whitney. I know by the smell alone it’s incredible, but I won’t stay. This is time-sensitive, and I’d like to get started.”

  “I’ll walk you out, Jacob.” I stand as well, following him to the door.

  Everly looks up from the TV as he passes, looking bored.

  “Night, girls. It was a pleasure meeting you both,” he tells them, pulling the door open.

  “Niiight!” Emersyn shouts.

  Closing the door after I exit, I cross my arms, and then lean against it.

  “I really do appreciate all of this. Thanks, Jacob.” He
turns to face me with his palm reached out in my direction—which I uncross my arms to shake.

  “No thanks are needed.”

  “What do think? Is all of this going to be easy or a long process?”

  “Son, it isn’t going to be easy. I doubt that man will go down without some kind of fight.”

  “Yeah,” I sigh.

  I doubt he will either. He hasn’t stopped blowing up my phone since Sunday night. I finally had to block his number to get it to stop.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Whitney Lane

  Shane keeps warning me that his friends will be arriving this week. I don’t understand why he keeps mentioning it. Is he trying to prepare me for something? Taralynn assured me I’m going to love them; although, she keeps referring to them as my friends. But I don’t remember them. And not anything more than the thought of a cheerleader comes to mind when Shane talks about Kylie.

  Shane has a picture of her and himself with another guy that I learned was Shane’s best friend up until New Year’s Eve last year. Apparently, the guy, Trent, was killed. He was young too, only twenty-seven. Shane told me Kylie still isn’t dealing with his death. He thinks she’s avoiding it. But I can’t say anything to that. It’s not like I know what she’s going through or even remember the guy Shane tells me was one of my best friends too.

  He showed me a few photos from our past. I couldn’t stomach many. Not because I don’t want to. I do, I really want to know more, but just the thought of knowing I’ve been deceived, the way I have, is soul crushing. Thinking about it makes my chest hurt too much. And I can see how badly Shane wants me to remember. Everything is heart-grabbing and heavy.

  He’s going to be so pissed when he finds out what I’m doing—and where I’m at. I can already tell Shane’s a very passionate man. For the most part, he’s calm, but with me, it feels like there’s a beast underneath his skin waiting to jump out. He did say, I’m the only one that can get a rise out of him. For some reason, when he told me that it made me smile. And something inside wanted so badly to try to do just that.