by Lisa Dyson
Tom could appreciate the kitchen, even though his small galley kitchen had mostly empty cabinets.
“Does your fiancée like to cook?” the Realtor asked.
“She loves to try new recipes she finds on the internet,” Tom answered.
“There’s even room for a small table and chairs in front of the window,” Shirley said. “Let’s look at the backyard while we’re here.” She opened the door from the kitchen and they stepped outside onto a patio made of cement pavers. The yard was well maintained and fenced in, with room for a swing set or a soccer goal. Actually, it was much better than the tiny, unfenced backyard at the house Theresa had wanted him to buy. It would especially be good for the dog that she desperately wanted.
“There’s a powder room over here next to the coat closet.” Shirley pointed it out when they went inside and down the hall toward the master bedroom. “And there’s a full bath off the master.”
They stepped into the master bedroom, which was quite spacious for the size of the house. Like most of the first floor, the walls were painted a neutral khaki color and the hardwood floors were all refinished.
“Can you see yourself and your fiancée here?” she asked.
“Actually, I can,” he said.
The Realtor smiled and said with enthusiasm, “Then let’s go check out the other bedrooms.”
Tom was equally impressed with the two bedrooms upstairs with window seats in the dormers and the shared bathroom between them that the Realtor referred to as a “Jack and Jill” bathroom.
“What do you think?” she asked when they came up from inspecting the partially finished basement. “That would make a perfect playroom for your future kids.”
“I like it a lot,” he admitted, “but I have a few other properties to look at.” A lie, but it made good business sense not to appear too eager.
“There are a few other parties interested,” she said in likewise business fashion, “so I’d suggest you make an offer quickly. Why don’t you bring your fiancée to look at it?”
“I’ll definitely do that.” He also needed to call a real estate lawyer or at least another Realtor to look out for his interests.
“The owners will be back in town this weekend,” Shirley said. “I’ll be bringing all offers to them at that time. They’re anxious to move forward with a sale.”
Tom was sure that was true. The people who’d flipped it wouldn’t want to make any more mortgage payments than necessary.
He shook Shirley’s hand before they went their separate ways.
Tom squashed his urge to call Theresa to tell her about the house. He wanted it to be a done deal first so she would know he was serious about treating her better and putting her needs first.
* * *
FOR THE PAST twenty-four hours, Ashleigh had been able to avoid Kyle. At least in person. They spoke on the phone a few times, mostly to coordinate schedules but also to share updates about their nephews.
Ashleigh began to look forward to those phone calls. The normalcy of them, the implied intimacy. That close connection with another human being had been absent from her life in Richmond. She hadn’t missed it until now.
Talking on the phone was perfect. Kyle couldn’t see her to judge whether she was hiding anything. Which, of course, she was.
She’d finished her last appointment and was seated at her desk in her office when her cell phone rang. Expecting Kyle, she was surprised when it was Paula.
“Hi, Paula,” Ashleigh greeted her. “Is everything okay?” Paula tended to go through Kyle when she had something to convey to Ashleigh.
“Everything’s fine,” Paula grumbled, “if sitting in this damn hospital bed is your definition of fine.”
“O...kay.” Ashleigh was unsure what to say next.
Luckily, Paula spoke up again before Ashleigh could say anything else. “Sorry,” she said. “Anyway, are you planning to come to the hospital either tonight or tomorrow?”
Ashleigh mentally reviewed her schedule. “I need to stop by tonight to see my patient in the NICU. I’m also off tomorrow afternoon.” They’d never scheduled appointments on Thursday afternoons from the time her father owned the practice so he could play golf. She’d kept the tradition since she often worked weekends and evenings. “What did you need?”
Paula didn’t speak right away. Then, as Ashleigh was about to ask if she was okay, her sister said, “I need to talk to you about something.”
Ashleigh was curious now. “I’ll stop by later this evening. Kyle will have the boys for dinner and I’m sure he won’t mind staying until I get there. I’ll let him know I’ll be a little longer than expected.”
“Thanks, Ash, I really appreciate it.”
“Is there anything I can bring you?” Ashleigh scoured her brain for ideas to cheer up her sister. “Orange Creamsicle milk shake?” That had always been Paula’s favorite flavor at The Dairy Barn on Market Street.
“No, thanks.” Paula’s voice held a touch of melancholy. “I’m fine.”
Ashleigh was pretty sure that wasn’t the whole truth, but she didn’t want to push her when their relationship was so strained.
They ended their call and Ashleigh straightened her desk before heading out.
She went directly to the NICU when she arrived at the hospital. Reviewing the newborn’s chart, she was pleased with his progress.
“He’s had a good day,” the young R.N. assigned to him told Ashleigh.
“If I don’t find anything during examination, I’ll transfer him,” Ashleigh told the nurse. She collected herself and called on her internal strength to get her through the tiny baby’s exam.
“His mother came to see him this afternoon.” The nurse adjusted her dark-framed glasses. “She was brought over in a wheelchair and I could see she was itching to hold him.”
“That’s wonderful.” Ashleigh was relieved the woman had made enough progress to be able to come see her son. Last night when Ashleigh stopped by, the mother was in a great deal of pain and barely able to process what Ashleigh told her. “She’ll be glad when I move him to the regular nursery then.” She would stop by to give the mother the good news before going to see Paula.
The nurse nodded. “I was happily surprised when she was able to come up here with the injuries she’d sustained. I guess motherhood provides women the strength to overcome a tremendous amount of adversity when their child is involved.”
“Very true.” Ashleigh always thought if she’d done more, then maybe she would have carried to term. Discovering what “more” encompassed was what she’d never been able to ascertain.
She examined the infant, wrote the order for transfer to the regular nursery and went to see the baby’s mother.
She knocked quietly on the woman’s open door. “Mrs. Small?” She and the man sitting next to her turned in Ashleigh’s direction. “I don’t know if you remember me from yesterday,” Ashleigh began.
“You’re the pediatrician,” the woman said groggily. The left side of her face was dark with bruises and her left arm was in a cast from her hand to above her elbow. “This is my husband, John.”
Ashleigh entered and reached out to shake the man’s hand. “I’m Dr. Wilson.” She stood at the end of the bed. “I wanted to update you on your son’s condition.”
“His name is Matthew,” Mrs. Small told her with a hint of a smile. “It means ‘gift of God.’”
Ashleigh smiled in return, while her heart was breaking. She would never receive that kind of gift from God. “That name suits him,” she said. “He came through with flying colors. In fact, I’m hoping to transfer him out of the NICU after his next exam since he’s doing so well.” She looked at the husband. “Because his bilirubin is slightly elevated, I’d like him to spend at least another twenty-four hours in the hospital before I discharge him.�
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“No hurry,” Mr. Small joked. “He’s our first child and I’m not sure I can handle him without my wife.”
“You’ll be fine,” Ashleigh assured him. They discussed how much longer Mrs. Small might be in the hospital according to what they’d been told by her doctor earlier that day. Ashleigh assured them that if Mrs. Small was physically up to it, she could still breast-feed. They discussed options and Ashleigh answered their questions.
“Thank you so much, Dr. Wilson.” Mr. Small rose to shake her hand before she left. “We appreciate all you’ve done.”
Ashleigh left the new parents and as she walked down the hospital corridor, she experienced an enormous rush for the first time in several years. She’d forgotten how great she could feel when giving parents good news about their child.
Her mood was still buoyant when she reached Paula’s room.
“Come in,” Paula said as soon as Ashleigh arrived. “I just got off the phone with Mom. Since I told her about being in the hospital, she’s been calling or texting me every few hours to see if my labor started again.” Paula rolled her eyes. “At this rate, she’s going to be the one responsible for starting my labor.”
“How’s she doing?” Ashleigh hadn’t spoken to her mother since before she moved Grandma to the Maryland facility.
“She’s anxious to come home,” Paula answered. “But now that Grandma has been diagnosed with that heart valve thing, she wants to stay to speak with the doctors in person.”
“Are they talking surgery?” Ashleigh asked. Even though her mother was a retired R.N., you’d think she’d at least call her doctor daughter for advice.
“Mom thinks that’s going to be what the doctors recommend,” Paula said. “I’m surprised she hasn’t talked to you about it.”
“Mom and Dad were never big on consulting with me,” Ashleigh told her, inwardly grimacing at their slight. “I guess it’s the age thing. They figured I still had a lot to learn.”
“Funny,” Paula said. “Whenever I was with them, they couldn’t speak highly enough about you. I never thought I had a chance at competing with you.”
Ashleigh’s eyes widened at Paula’s admission. “You’re kidding!”
“Oh, no, according to them, you were the greatest thing since heart transplants.”
“That’s crazy,” Ashleigh said. “Because I always heard about you when I was with them.”
Paula’s eyes opened wide. “Really?”
“I remember this one pediatric conference that Dad and I attended together,” Ashleigh said. “He pulled out pictures of Mark and Ryan every chance he got.”
“He was always partial to his grandsons.” Paula smiled pensively.
“But then while people were ogling your kids,” Ashleigh continued, “he would go on and on about what a good mother and wife you were. He raved about how you so willingly embraced the role of an officer’s wife to support base families while spouses were at sea.”
Paula stared at her sister.
“It’s true,” Ashleigh said enthusiastically. “I guess our parents didn’t want us to get big heads, so they only complimented us when we weren’t around.”
“I guess so.” Paula still appeared bewildered.
They were interrupted by a nurse’s aide who came to record Paula’s vitals.
After she left, they enjoyed a few more minutes of pleasant conversation until Ashleigh finally said, “You mentioned on the phone that you wanted to talk to me about something.” If it happened to be a contentious subject, Ashleigh wanted to deal with it sooner than later.
Paula hesitated a moment. Then she inhaled and began speaking. “Well, since Scott isn’t here, Mom agreed to be my labor coach.”
Ashleigh didn’t need to be clairvoyant to know where this was going. Did her sister have a clue how painful it would be to witness the birth of her niece or nephew? She allowed Paula to continue in case she was wrong.
“But now that Mom might not be back before this baby decides to arrive, she suggested—”
Ashleigh raised her eyebrows as she waited for Paula to spit it out.
“I mean, I was wondering if maybe you’d consider being my labor coach.”
“Are you sure you want me?” Ashleigh asked. “Isn’t there someone else who has experience who can do it?” She’d delivered babies as an intern, but she’d never coached a mother through birth.
Paula’s eyes were suddenly glassy from unshed tears. “That’s fine.” She spoke quickly, waving her hand and looking away. “I can find someone else. I shouldn’t have asked you. Of course you wouldn’t want to do it after—”
“No, no,” Ashleigh said immediately. “You misunderstood.” Not the first time for either of them. “I’m not sure I’m the right choice. I’ve never coached before or even attended Lamaze classes.” She’d never gotten far enough along in her own pregnancies to sign up for classes.
“But you’re a doctor,” Paula said. “You’ve delivered babies before, right?”
“Yes, but that’s different.” Ashleigh paused a moment. “Can I think about it?”
Paula stiffened.
Ashleigh had screwed up again.
“I understand.” A tear rolled down Paula’s cheek.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THURSDAY AFTERNOON, KYLE bought a new pair of soccer shorts for Mark. Now he was on his way to Paula’s house to drop them off, fully aware that Ashleigh didn’t have afternoon office hours and he might run into her.
He pulled into the driveway, unsure if he was relieved or not to find Ashleigh’s car missing. He’d gone out of his way to not see her the past few days and now here he was actively going against that plan. There’d always been the possibility that she’d gone to the hospital to visit patients or was still at the office. Maybe he wouldn’t see her at all.
He hesitated. He could come back later with the shorts as an excuse but then decided against it. This wasn’t high school. He didn’t need an excuse to see Ashleigh.
More importantly, he needed to protect himself from getting too close to her. Which translated into avoiding her.
He grabbed the shorts from the passenger seat, as well as Paula’s house key from the truck’s center console, and left the vehicle.
Ashleigh pulled up next to the curb.
He waved as she got out of her car. She wore a prim navy suit that hugged her body, but the wisps of hair that escaped from the clip on the back of her head softened her look. His hands itched to release her hair and run his fingers through it. He mentally shook the images from his mind.
When she came near enough that he didn’t have to yell, he said, “Mark tore his soccer shorts the other day at practice. Crazy kid climbed a fence to get the ball and caught the edge. So I picked up another pair for him.” He held out the plastic bag and she took it.
They stood in awkward silence until she finally spoke. “Want to come in?” Her invitation forced him to make a crucial decision.
He could leave, say he had things to do before work tonight. Why torture himself with what he couldn’t—or shouldn’t—have?
“Sure,” he said instead, following her to the front door. “I already have my key out.” He leaned around her to unlock the door, automatically putting a hand on the gentle curve of her waist. Her nearness and the light floral scent of her body lotion made his body come to life automatically. “I didn’t think you’d be home.”
She turned her head in his direction and her warm breath tickled his cheek. “Oh,” she said.
Was that disappointment in her voice? Or was his physical reaction to her influencing his thoughts?
They entered Paula’s house and he closed the front door.
“I thought I could get some fund-raising work done this afternoon at the office.” She sounded a little breathless and a
verted her eyes. “But I left my files upstairs in my briefcase. Otherwise, I would have stayed.”
“You’re going back to the office?” he asked. Good. They could both turn around and just leave.
Except there was something on her mind. She had the same demeanor as right before they’d split up. As if she would crumple if he said the wrong thing.
“No, I’ll work here since the boys won’t be home for a few hours.” She checked her watch. “I also have a conference call at two-thirty.”
“Ashleigh, is there a problem?” he asked.
Her head jerked in his direction. “A problem?”
She was definitely behaving exactly the same as she had two years ago. He hadn’t forced a conversation back then and wasn’t about to now.
“Never mind. But I could use some of your iced tea.” That would give him time to give her a gentle nudge. “Do you have any in the fridge?”
The widening of her eyes suggested her surprise that he wasn’t taking her hint about him leaving so she could work. There was definitely something bothering her. “Sure. I made some yesterday.”
He followed her to the kitchen, tugging at the neck of his T-shirt when the enticing view of her from behind raised his body temp.
He removed two glasses from the cupboard while she opened the fridge and took out the pitcher. She set it on the counter and closed the refrigerator. Like individual robots doing their tasks.
Kyle filled the glasses with ice, brushing her arm when he set them back on the counter. Why couldn’t he simply step away from her and avoid the temptation to take her into his arms?
Dropping off Mark’s soccer shorts had definitely not been one of his best ideas.
After Ashleigh poured tea into both glasses, he picked them up and placed them on opposite sides of the kitchen table while Ashleigh put away the pitcher. He took a seat and Ashleigh did the same, crossing her legs. At least she was far enough away that he couldn’t reach out and touch her.
He was fascinated by her hands holding her glass of tea. She set it down and ran her finger up and down the outside of the dewy glass.