Date With Dr. Frankenstein

by Leanne Banks

  When Mrs. Giordano had to leave town to attend her cousin’s funeral, Eli called her again.

  “I hate to ask this of you,” he said. “But I don’t know where else to turn.”

  “It’s no problem. I’m off for the next two days,” she told him, agreeing to take care of Fletch. “Fletch and I will keep each other company.”

  “Lucky Fletch.”

  Andie smiled. “How’s your research?”

  Eli sighed. “Slow going. It’s taking longer than I expected to get through this.”

  Her heart sank. “How soon until you’re back on regular schedule?”

  “I don’t know. A week, maybe two. I try not to think about the time and focus on getting the job done.”

  Two weeks felt like an eternity, but she didn’t tell him that. “That’s probably for the best.” She was beginning to wonder if he even remembered the night they’d shared. “I hope you’re taking care of yourself.”

  “Yeah, as much as—” He broke off at the sound of voices on his end of the line. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go. Another meeting.”

  “Okay, I miss you.” She wanted to say more, but the time wasn’t right. Lately, it seemed the time was never right.

  “Me too,” he said in a distracted tone. “Talk to you later.”

  Andie hung up and tried not to let the phone call eat at her. Eli had not sounded like a man head over heels in love with her. He was in the middle of a workathon, she argued with herself. Still, an insidious doubt was planted.

  Throwing herself into the task of caring for Fletch, she took the little boy to a children’s movie the first day, the park on the second day.

  She watched him play on the jungle gym as he chattered away. “I’m going to summer camp with Jennifer, next week,” he told her. “I’m gonna get Popsicles, and I get to learn to swim.”

  She smiled. “You’re going to have fun.”

  “Yeah. Dad says I need to spend some time in a structured ‘vironment. He read it in a book about gifted kids. Did you know I’m gifted?”

  “I did.” She watched him hang upside down like a monkey, his sun-lightened hair sticking out from his head.

  “I’m not real sure what gifted means. Dad says it means I’ve got an extraspecial mind. Mrs. G. says it means I’m curious.” He skinned the cat to the ground. “Timmy Kenworth’s mom says it means I need extra super—supervi—”

  “Supervision?” she guessed.

  He nodded. “And Timmy says it just means I’m a pain.” He scowled. “I think Timmy’s a pain. I told him he can’t even spell the word right, and he got real mad.”

  Andie’s lips twitched. “I think I like your dad’s definition the best.”

  “Yeah.” He rubbed his nose. “I wish he wasn’t gone in the lab all the time. He’s acting like Uncle Caleb, and Uncle Caleb never has any fun.”

  A trace of uneasiness swept through her, but she talked herself out of it. “I think your Uncle Caleb works this hard all the time. Your dad is just working this hard on a temporary basis.”

  “That means just for a little while, right?”

  Andie nodded and brushed the dirt from his chin. “Right.”

  He took her hand and stood silently thoughtful for a moment. “My mom isn’t gone away for just a little while, is she?”

  Andie’s heart twisted. She pressed her lips together. “No, sweetheart.” She bent down to look at him. “But it’s okay to miss her and love her. And it’s okay to talk about her.”

  He took a deep breath. “She was really good at taking pictures.” He swallowed audibly. “I really miss her at night. She used to rub my cheek sometimes.”

  Andie struggled with a burning sensation in her eyes. “I bet that felt good. When I was little, my mother sang songs.”

  Fletch nodded solemnly. “Dad does that, too, but he’s not very good. Did your mom sing something about not getting any satisfaction?”

  The image was too much. Andie burst into laughter. “No,” she finally said when she regained control. “She sang ‘Three Little Fishies.’”

  The sound of children’s voices broke Fletch’s concentration. He turned to look at them with a pensive expression. “Why are they here?”

  Andie saw a van sporting the logo of a local day care. “It looks like a group of kids from a day-care center. This is probably a field trip.”

  He clutched her hand tighter. “Do you think they have a virus?”

  His question caught her off guard. “Well, I don’t know. Probably not. But people get viruses all the time. A cold is a virus,” she told him.

  He watched them for a moment longer.

  “You can play with them if you want.”

  Fletch shook his head. “Nope. I want to go home.”

  Concerned, she studied him. “Are you tired of playing?”

  “I just want to go home. Did you know my dad told me I get a puppy when he finds the cromzome?”

  “Chromosome. No,” she said as they left.

  As the day wore on, Andie found herself falling as hard for the younger Masters as she had for the older one. That night when she put him to bed, she taught him “Three Little Fishies.”

  “Boop, boop, didam, dadam, whaduma choo!”

  Fletch delivered that last syllable with such vigor that he spit. “You really oughta teach my dad this one. It’s a lot better than that satisfaction song.”

  “I’ll remember that,” she said with a smile. “I like your llama.”

  He stoked the stuffed animal. “My mom brought him back from one of her trips.”

  “That makes him extraspecial.” She adjusted his covers. “What do you think about before you go to sleep?”

  He sighed and wiggled his head from side to side on the pillow. “If I think about my mom, it makes me feel kinda sad, so I think about clocks and numbers.”

  Her throat tightened. “Would you like me to rub your cheek?” she asked softly.

  Fletch nodded and closed his eyes. “And sing the fishy song again.”

  Andie stroked his child-soft cheek and sang the fishy song until she was nearly hoarse. She sang it until she was sure he was asleep. Then she left the room and cried.

  * * *

  Before Andie knew it, she was into another rotation at the hospital. Temporarily assigned to day shift, she arranged to join Samantha for lunch in the crowded cafeteria with persistently uninspiring food.

  “You look tired,” Andie told her friend as they took a recently vacated corner table.

  Samantha gave a wry smile. “Thanks. I’ve been spending a lot of time with my sister’s children.”

  Andie shook her head in concern and poured dressing on her green salad. “Is she still having problems?”

  Sam nodded. “She’s really mixed up, and I hate to see the kids suffer.” She took a bite of her turkey sandwich.

  “Have you suggested counseling?”

  Sam nodded again. “She says she doesn’t need it.”

  “Why don’t you let me take them one night so you can have a break?” Andie grinned. “You could go out and torture the male population of Raleigh.”

  Sam sighed. “They’re cute, but kids can be hell on your social life.”

  “So lend them to me.” She hated to see Sam so worn-out.

  “I don’t know, Andie. They’re pretty wild. The eldest might be a saint, but the two little ones—” She shook her head in dismay. “Conan and Conanina.” Stalling, Sam lifted the bread off her sandwich, looked at it, then put it back. “I wouldn’t want to strain our friendship.”

  She might have been amused at Sam’s evaluation of her nieces and nephew if she hadn’t been so appalled by her unwillingness to let her help. Astonishment surged through Andie. “I don’t believe you. You know I’ve got tons of experience with kids. It’s no hardship for me to pitch in for one night. What kind of friend do you think I am, anyway?”

  Wincing, Sam held up her hand. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. This situation has me a little off-kilter. You’re a
great friend. The very best. You can take the hellions Friday or Saturday night. At your own risk,” she added and took another bite of her sandwich.

  Mollified, Andie settled back in her seat. “Good.”

  Sam eyed her thoughtfully. “What’s new with Dr. Frankenstein?”

  Discomfort shimmered through her. It had been so long since she and Eli had shared that unforgettable night that she was beginning to wonder if she’d imagined it. “He’s got a tough schedule right now. I haven’t spent much time with him.”

  “That’s the problem with Viking explorers. They’ve got to go off on those voyages every now and then.”

  Andie laughed shortly. “That’s an interesting way of looking at it.”

  Sam raised her eyebrows. “Thought you two were headed for something hot and heavy.”

  Andie hesitated, not sure what to say. “We were,” she finally admitted. “But it’s difficult to maintain hot and heavy when you don’t see each other. I kept Fletch last week—”

  “You kept Fletch?”

  “Yes, the housekeeper had to go to a funeral, so Eli asked me. I didn’t mind,” she said defensively. “Fletch is a great kid.”

  “I’m sure he is. I’m just not so sure his father’s motives are great.”

  “Sam,” she chided. “Everyone has busy times at work.”

  “Yeah,” she said skeptically. “And there are no similarities between Eli and—” she paused meaningfully “—a certain man in your past.”

  Andie shook her head. “Absolutely not,” she said in her most implacable voice. She hoped her righteous indignation hid the cracks in her confidence. “They’re not from the same species.”

  She successfully closed the discussion, but later that night all Andie’s doubts ganged up on her. Wide-awake at the lonely hour of midnight, she sat at her kitchen table and drank a glass of water. Stud thumped his tail at her bare feet.

  “Thanks,” she said, petting him. “I like you, too.”

  Eli hadn’t meant what he’d said.

  He didn’t want her anymore.

  She’d messed up again.

  She’d made a huge mistake when she’d let Eli into her heart, and it had been a major error in judgment to make love with him. Andie wasn’t a modern woman when it came to sex. She simply couldn’t be casual about it. There were too many ramifications, physically and emotionally. It was her belief that sex was reserved for a man and woman who wanted to share more than one night. So far, one night was all she and Eli had shared. Andie’s feelings for Eli put her tepid affection for Paul to shame. The realization didn’t cheer her. She should have known better.

  Hurting, she bowed her head and covered her face. Crippling uncertainty crowded out that wonderful high she’d been on since making love with Eli. She’d let down her guard and hoped for more. Now, she felt like crying. Andie firmed her mouth and refused to give in to the urge.

  If she had to pick herself up and dust herself off, then she would do it. She’d certainly had to before. This time, at least, her pain could be private. She and Eli had never made a commitment. She’d been careful not to want one, she told herself. Still, she found herself biting her lip at the bitter edge of loss stabbing through her flimsy self-protective wall. She had hoped for more than she’d admitted to herself.

  Taking a deep breath, Andie pushed past it. There were other ways to spend her time, to gain the space she needed. Replacing Eli’s image, she filled her mind with plans. She could visit her parents in Wilmington and go to the beach. She could look into a graduate school program. She might even sign up for one of those medical volunteer trips to a foreign country. They were always looking for pediatric nurses.

  Rising, she finished her glass of water and put it in the sink. Her gaze fell on the clock radio Eli had gotten her. On the kitchen counter beside it stood the glass vase of roses. They were withering. Her heart twisted. Down deep, all her plans felt like second best. What she wanted was to be with Eli and Fletch. To be a part of them and for them to be a part of her. To be important to them. But Andie had learned the hard way that sometimes she had to take action before her feelings changed.

  * * *

  They’d done it.

  They’d found the chromosome.

  Nothing like a little brute force, Eli thought cryptically, as he recalled how he and his lab partners had attacked the data with unrelenting persistence. Afterward, they’d briefly exchanged congratulations and patted each other on the back. The next step was to find the gene.

  Eli leaned back from his computer and yawned. Rubbing his irritated eyes, he didn’t know whether to lie down and sleep for a week or go for a steak dinner. He felt victorious at the same time he felt deprived. At the thought of deprivation, an image of Andie flashed through his mind. He automatically reached for the phone. The first thing he wanted to do was call her.

  He pushed the first three digits, then glanced at his watch, then stopped. Two o’clock in the morning. Muttering an oath, he hung up the receiver. If she wasn’t at work, he supposed she wouldn’t appreciate him waking her to tell her about how they’d found the chromosome that contained the gene causing seizure problems. Especially since finding the chromosome was just the first step. It could take years to find the gene.

  He rubbed his hand over his bearded face and sighed. So busy he hadn’t shaved in ten days, he felt like the creature from the black lagoon. Reluctantly, he decided to wait until he appeared a little more human before he tried to see Andie. Sleep, shave, haircut, then a romantic dinner. If Fletch was okay with it, Eli might even try to take Andie away for the weekend in a few days.

  He wanted to see her again. It was more than want. They could take away his sleep and deprive him of food, but Eli was finding he needed continual contact with the people who mattered to him most to keep him from going nuts. Those people were Andie and Fletch.

  He glanced around the lab to see Bill Sampson, his lab coat rumpled and stained, staring into his coffee cup. Rachel, almost as rumpled, rested her head on the table. He chuckled. They all looked like hell, and well they should. His respect for Bill and Rachel had mounted during the past week. They’d worked every bit as hard as he had.

  Andie’s advice came to mind. Eli couldn’t rustle up a barbecue, but he supposed there should be some restaurant open this time of night. He stood and shrugged. “Anyone for beer and pizza?” he offered.

  Bill and Rachel looked at him in surprise.

  * * *

  After several hours of sleep, Eli called Andie the next afternoon, only to get her answering machine. She called back when he took Fletch out for a burger and listened to his son’s account of summer camp. They played telephone tag until he tracked her down late Friday evening.

  “I’ve missed you,” he began.

  There was silence on the other end of the line, then she said, “I’ve missed you, too.”

  Her voice was a balm to his soul. Everything inside him shifted into place. “I thought we could go out tomorrow. In the afternoon if you’re working. This time, we’ll go somewhere nice. Alone,” he added meaningfully.

  Another pause followed his words. “I’m keeping Samantha’s nieces and nephew tomorrow night to give her a little break. Sam’s been spending a lot of time with them because her sister’s having a rough time.”

  He rubbed his brow in confusion. “I thought you worked nights.”

  “I’ve been temporarily assigned to day shift. One of the nurses is on maternity leave, so I guess it’s my turn to see how the other half lives.” She took a breath. “Did your research turn out well?”

  “Yeah.” He chuckled. “We had a pizza at three o’clock in the morning to celebrate. Now that we’ve found the right chromosome...” Eli explained a few of the ins and outs of the process. Near the end of the conversation, he told her he’d like to see her tonight. She reluctantly begged off, telling him she had to get up early in the morning.

  He hung up the phone, pleased that he’d finally spoken with her, yet oddly
distracted. She’d sounded regretful that they couldn’t get together. On the other hand, he wondered why he’d had the sensation that Andie was a thousand miles away instead of right next door.

  On Sunday, he played with Fletch and the new dachshund puppy, appropriately named Brownie, in the backyard. Fletch talked more about summer camp and Eli was delighted that he’d enjoyed it so much. It was a hot, lazy afternoon. Fletch thought a sprinkler sounded like a good idea. Eli thought cool, crisp sheets, the whir of a ceiling fan and making love to the woman who made everything come together for him sounded like a good idea. He found himself glancing at Andie’s house repeatedly. Her car wasn’t in the driveway.

  “She’s at the beach,” Fletch told him, giggling when the puppy licked his neck.

  Surprised, Eli swung his head around. “The beach?”

  “Yep.” He gave the slippery dog a squeeze toy. “Her mom and dad live in Wimulton.”

  “Wilmington,” Eli automatically corrected.

  Fletch nodded. “Yep. I asked her if I could go, but she said I should stay with you. She won’t be back till Tuesday.”

  Eli stifled an oath. Why had she told Fletch and not him?

  He was past disappointment, past longing, roaring into full-fledged need. He wanted Andie’s brand of feminine conversation, wanted to steep himself in her scent, wanted to just look at her. Determination hardened inside him. Come hell or high water, Tuesday evening, he would be knocking on her door.

  * * *

  Tuesday, Andie still wasn’t home. Another man might have naively assumed it was just bad timing that he hadn’t connected with her. Still another might have gotten the message and cut his losses.

  Eli knew something was wrong, and he damn well wasn’t cutting his losses. Rosebud in hand, he strode into the busy hospital cafeteria on Wednesday. It took a couple of minutes before he spotted her.