by Robyn Carr
Lilly shrugged. “It seemed like the least I could give her, after what I did. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. You just don’t understand what it’s like—spending your whole life raising kids—and then having another one on the way when you’re a grandmother. Me and Buck—we’ve struggled with money our entire marriage! You just don’t understand.”
“Oh, Lilly, I know you were terrified and desperate. I can imagine. But I’m not going to kid you, this is complicated.”
“But will you help us? Will you help Chloe?”
“I’ll do what I can—but those laws...” She sighed. “I’ll do whatever I can,” she said gently. “We’ll find a way to sort this out. Just let me think.”
Not long after, when Mel was sure that Lilly was calmed down and safe, Mel left her. She’d been with her about forty minutes, but Buck was still combing the Hummer with envious eyes. “Helluva ride, Mel,” he said, grinning.
“Buck, go in the house and comfort your wife. I just walked in on her nursing your daughter.”
“Oh, boy,” he said.
It was on the ride back to town that Mel realized Doc Mullins was onto this. In fact, he might’ve given birth to it, so to speak. He’d always said the mother would turn up, and she had. Weeks ago when Mel had told him that Lilly had offered to take in the baby, his eyebrows had shot up in surprise. He hadn’t expected it to be Lilly. He had never called social services. And yet, he never brought her into the conspiracy.
By the time she got back to his house it was after four and she was steamed up pretty good. Doc was seeing a patient who was coughing and hacking like a dying man. She had to wait. And while she waited, she began to seethe. When the man finally left with a butt full of penicillin and a pocket full of pills, she faced him down. “Your office,” she said flatly, preceding him in that direction.
“What’s got your dander up?” he asked.
“I went to the Andersons’. I walked in on Lilly nursing the baby.”
“Ah,” he said simply, limping around her to sit behind his desk, his arthritis obviously kicking up again.
She leaned her hands on the desk and got in his face. “You never called social services.”
“Couldn’t see the need. Her mother came for her.”
“What do you plan to do about the birth certificate?”
“Well, when we get this straightened out a little better, I’ll sign and date it.”
“Doc, you can’t pull this shit! That baby was abandoned! Even though her mother came back for her, it might still be considered a crime!”
“Settle down. Lilly was a little overwrought is all. She’s fine now—I’ve been keeping an eye on it.”
“At the very least, you could have told me!”
“And have you go off half-cocked like this? Snatch up that baby and turn her in? That woman was at the end of her rope—and turned out all she needed was a little time to cool down, come to her senses.”
“She should’ve seen a doctor.”
“Aw, Lilly had all her kids at home. She’d have come in if she was sick. Fact is, if Lilly had turned up any sooner—I’d have insisted on examining her, just to be safe. By the time she came around, it was obvious she was in good health.”
Mel fumed. “I can’t work like this,” she said. “I’m here to give good, sound medical care, not run around in circles trying to guess what you’re dreaming up!”
“Who asked ya?” he threw back.
She was stunned quiet for a moment. Then she said, “Shit!” And she turned to leave his office.
“We’re not done here,” he bellowed. “Where are you going?”
“For a beer!” she yelled back.
When she got to Jack’s it was impossible for her to hide the fact that she was all riled up, but she couldn’t talk about it. She went straight to the bar without saying hello to anyone.
Jack took one look at her and said, “Whoa, boy.”
“Beer,” she said.
He served her up and said, “Wanna talk about it?”
“Sorry. Can’t.” She took a drink of the icy brew. “Business.”
“Must be sticky business. You’re pissed.”
“Boy howdy.”
“Anything I can do?”
“Just don’t ask me about it, because I’m bound by confidentiality.”
“Must be a doozie,” he said.
Yeah, a doozie, she thought.
Jack slid an envelope across the bar to her. She looked at the return address—it was from the clinic in Eureka he had visited. “Maybe this will brighten your mood a little. I’m clear.”
She smiled a small smile. “That’s good, Jack,” she said. “I thought it would come out like that.”
“Aren’t you going to look?” he asked.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I trust you.”
He leaned forward and put a light kiss on her brow. “Thanks, that’s nice,” he said. “You go ahead and sulk in your beer. Let me know if you need anything.”
She began to calm down with her beer. It was probably a half hour later that Doc Mullins came into the bar and sat on the stool beside her. She glared at him, then focused again on her glass.
Doc raised a finger to Jack and he set up a whiskey. Then wisely, left the two of them alone.
Doc had a sip, then another, then said, “You’re right. I can’t leave you out of the loop like that if you’re going to help take care of the town.”
She turned and looked at him, one eyebrow lifted. “Did you just apologize to me?”
“Not quite, I didn’t. But in this one instance, you’re right. I’m just used to acting on my own, is all. Meant no disrespect.”
“What are we going to do?” she asked him.
“You’re not going to do anything at all. This is on me. If there’s any malpractice involved, I don’t want it on you. You were always prepared to do the right thing. I wanted to do the right thing, too—but I had a different right thing in mind.”
“I think she should be examined. I can do it or we can make her an appointment with John Stone.”
“I’ll call John,” Doc said, taking another sip of his whiskey. “I want you away from this for now.”
“And this time, you’ll actually make the call?”
He turned and regarded her, glare for glare. “I’ll call him.”
Mel just concentrated on her beer, which had gone warm and dull.
“You do a good job, missy,” he said. “I’m getting too old for some things, especially the babies.” He looked down at his hands, some fingers bent, knuckles swollen. “I can still get things done, but these old hands aren’t good on the women. Better you take care of women’s health.”
She turned toward him. “First a partial apology. Then a partial compliment.”
“I apologize,” he said without looking at her. “I think you’re needed here.”
She let out her breath slowly. She knew how hard that was for him. She took another deep breath and put her arm around his shoulders. She leaned her head against him.
“Don’t go soft on me,” she said.
“Not a chance,” he returned.
* * *
Jack had no idea what had passed between Mel and Doc, but she said they were going back to the clinic and would have a bite to eat together there. He assumed they had issues to work out. Then she promised to come back to the bar before going home.
He served quite a few people at six. By seven the crowd was thinning and there were only a few people there when the door opened. Charmaine. She’d never come to Virgin River before; he’d let her know that he wanted to keep those two parts of his life separate. She wasn’t wearing waitress clothes tonight, so her intention was pretty obvious. She wore a nice pair of creased slacks, a c
risp white blouse with the collar folded on the outside of a dark blue blazer. Her hair was down and full, makeup thick but perfect, heels. It pleased him to be reminded that she was a handsome woman, especially so when she didn’t wear those tight clothes that drew attention to her large breasts. She looked classy. Mature.
She sat up at the bar and smiled at him. “I thought I’d drop by and see how you’ve been,” she said.
“Good, Char. You?”
“Great.”
“How about a drink?” he asked.
“Sure. Yes. How about a Johnny Walker, ice. Make it a good Johnny.”
“You got it.” He set her up with a black label—he didn’t have any blue. Too pricey for his usual crowd. In fact, he didn’t move much of the black label. “So, what brings you to my neighborhood?”
“I wanted to check in. See if things are the same with you.”
He looked down for a second, disappointed. He had hoped not to have to do this again, and certainly not here. This was no place to discuss their relationship, such as it had been. He looked back into her eyes and simply nodded.
“No change, then?”
He shook his head, hoping he could leave it at that.
“Well,” she said, taking a sip of her drink, “I’m sorry to hear that. I was hoping that maybe we could... Never mind. I can tell by the look on your face—”
“Char, please. This isn’t the right time or place.”
“Take it easy, Jack, I’m not going to push. Can’t blame a girl for checking it out. After all, what we had was pretty special. To me, anyway.”
“It was special to me, too. I’m sorry, but I had to move on.”
“So—you still insist there’s no one else?”
“There wasn’t at the time. I didn’t lie to you. I’ve never lied to you. But now—”
Just as he said that, the door swung open and Mel came in. Her expression earlier had been angry, but now it was subdued. Tired. And she did something she had never previously done. Rather than jumping up on a stool and asking for a beer, she came around the bar. To Charmaine he said, “Excuse me just one second.” He met Mel at the end of the bar.
Mel immediately put her arms around his waist and hugged him, laying her head on his chest. His arms went around her, as well, returning the gesture, painfully aware that Charmaine was burning a hole in his back with her eyes.
“Today was trying,” Mel said softly. “Doc and I had a come-to-Jesus meeting about how we’re going to work together, if we’re going to work together. It was harder than I thought. Emotionally draining.”
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Might I have one of those nifty little Crowns? I’ve eaten and I promise to only have one, with ice, and you’re welcome to take me home tonight. If you want to.”
“You’re kidding, right? I’m scared to death to let you go home alone. Who knows what you’ll do, who you’ll take a ride with.” He put a small kiss on her brow and turned her around so she could go to the front of the bar. He didn’t make eye contact with Charmaine, but rather fixed the drink and put it before Mel. By now she was on a stool at the very end of the bar. “You’ll have to give me a minute.”
“Sure,” she said. “Take your time. I just want to unwind.”
“Unwind away.” He went back to Char.
The expression in Charmaine’s eyes was one of hurt, but at least there was clarity.
“I think I understand,” she said, taking another sip of her drink.
He reached for her hand and held it. “Charmaine, I wasn’t lying. Doesn’t really matter now, I guess, but I’d like it if you believed I was telling the truth. There wasn’t anyone else.”
“But you wanted there to be.”
He nodded, helplessly. He glanced at Mel. She was watching them. Her expression was perplexed and unhappy.
“Well. Now I understand,” Charmaine said, pulling her hand away from his. “I’m going to take off. Leave you to your business.”
She plunked down a twenty-dollar bill, insulting a former lover who would buy her a drink. She whirled off the bar stool and headed for the door. Jack grabbed that twenty and went down to the end of the bar. “Mel, I’ll be right back. Stay put.”
“Take all the time you need,” she said, but she didn’t say it happily.
Just the same he followed Charmaine outside. He called to her and she stopped once she got to her car. He caught up with her and said, “I’m sorry it worked out like this. I wish you’d just called.”
“I’m sure you do.” She had moist eyes, as though any minute there might be tears. “I see now,” she said.
“I’m not sure you do. This is... It’s very recent,” he said.
“But she was on your mind?”
He took a breath. “Yeah.”
“You love her,” she said.
He nodded. “Oh, yeah. Big-time.”
She laughed hollowly. “Well, who’d guess. Mr. No-Attachments.”
“I didn’t mean to mislead you, Char. That’s why I broke it off, because I knew if Mel gave me half a chance, I’d find myself with two women, and I wouldn’t do that to either one of you. I’d never deliberately...”
“Aw, take it easy, bub. She’s young, she’s pretty—and you’re a goner. Now I know. I just wanted to be sure.”
He grabbed her hands, pressing that twenty into one. “You can’t believe I’d let you buy a drink in my bar.”
“Old lovers drink on the house?” she asked sarcastically.
“No,” he said. “Good friends drink on the house.” He leaned toward her and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I didn’t mean to.” He took a deep breath. “I never saw it coming.”
She sighed. “I understand, Jack. I miss you, is all. I hope it all works out for you, but if it doesn’t...”
“Char, if this doesn’t work, I won’t be worth a damn.”
She chuckled. “Okay, then. I’ll take off. Good luck, Jack.” She got in her car, backed out and drove away. He watched until she was gone, then went back inside.
He stood behind the bar, facing Mel. “I’m sorry about that.”
“What was that?”
“An old friend.”
“Clear River?”
“Yeah. Just checking up.”
“Wanting another run at you?”
He nodded. “I made it clear...”
“What did you make clear? Huh, Jack?”
“That I’m off the market. I tried to do that kindly.”
Her expression softened somewhat. She smiled a little and put the palm of her hand against his cheek. “Well, I guess I can’t bitch about that. Your kindness is one of your best features. But tell me something, cowboy. Is she going to keep showing up here?”
“No.”
“Good. I don’t like competition.”
“There isn’t any, Melinda. There never was.”
“There better not be. Turns out I’m a very selfish woman.”
“I broke it off with her before I even held your hand.”
She lifted an amused eyebrow. “That was optimistic of you. You could have ended up with no one.”
“A chance I was willing to take. The other way—I didn’t want to take that kind of chance. It could have seriously messed up what I wanted. And I wanted you.” He smiled at her. “You’re being a pretty good sport about this,” he said.
“Hey. I know why she was here. I wouldn’t give you up at the point of a gun. Wanna take me home? Spend the night?”
“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “I always want to.”
“Get permission from your bald guy then. I want you to prove yourself to me tonight. Again.” Then she grinned.
* * *
July came
in sunny and warm with a bit of occasional rain. Jack was sitting out on the porch when Rick showed up for work. He came in earlier in the day during summer when there was no school—sometime between breakfast and lunch. It was the peculiar look on his face that caused Jack to say, “Hold up, pardner. How you doing?”
“Good, Jack,” he said.
“Pull up a chair. I haven’t wanted to ask, but it’s been on my mind. You and Liz.”
“Yeah,” Ricky said, leaning against the porch rail rather than sitting. “Must show all over me, huh?”
“Something’s showing. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I guess.” He took a breath. “I kept after her to let me know if we were all clear, you know? And when she finally said it was okay, she wasn’t pregnant or anything, I told her that I thought maybe we should cool it. It killed her.”
“Whooo,” Jack said. “Rough.”
“I feel like the biggest dog.”
“I guess you had your reasons.”
“I tried to explain—it’s not that I don’t like her. A lot. I really like her a lot. I’m not just saying that. And it’s not just because of what we did. You know.”
“I get that, yeah,” Jack said.
“Can I tell you something?”
“It’s all up to you, bud.”
“I really like the girl a lot. I maybe even love her, if that doesn’t sound too stupid. But it turns out it’s a little too hot for me to handle, and I don’t want to screw up my life and her life because of that. That one time—Jack, I did not see that coming. I think it’s best for her and me to put some miles between us. Does that make me a wimp?”
Jack felt a slow smile spread across his lips. “Nah. That makes you a person with a brain.”
“I feel like a damn dog. But Jack, that girl—she just does it to me. Holy God. I get close to that girl and I have no brain at all.”
Jack sat forward in his chair, leaning toward Rick. “There will be times when too hot to handle will work right into your plans, Rick. But you won’t be sixteen anymore. You need to be smart. Sounds like you’re being smart. I’m sorry you and the girl are having a hard time with this.”
“I hope you’re right about this. Because I feel like shit. Plus, I miss her like mad. And not just that... I miss her.”