The Doctor's Accidental Family

by Jacqueline Diamond

  “I’m tired.” Linda yawned.

  “Me, too.” Caleb folded his arms. “I want to say good-night to Grandma and Grandpa.”

  “I miss my mommy,” Linda said.

  “Not your daddy?” Nick teased.

  Zady scowled at him above the children’s heads. He supposed he deserved that for inviting trouble.

  “Auntie Zee made a funny face!” Caleb cried.

  “Funny face.” Linda twisted her mouth. Caleb responded with a similarly grotesque expression.

  Nick joined in, welcoming the change of subject, since he had no desire to phone the Carrigans. He had no patience to spare for Elaine’s shenanigans.

  “I wish I’d grown up with parents like us,” Zady said after they’d put the kids to bed and retreated to the kitchen. She was fixing a cup of herbal tea, while Nick took out a few odds and ends for a snack.

  “Hilarious and brilliant?” he asked.

  “Able to play without arguing or...” She shook her head.

  “Finish the sentence,” Nick instructed.

  “Or drinking too much, or spinning wild stories, like my dad used to do,” Zady said wistfully.

  “I’ll bet my dad told crazier stories than yours.” He dropped a handful of walnuts into a bowl, adding a dozen bite-size pieces of shredded wheat.

  “My dad promised we’d move to Hawaii, ride plumes of lava and have dolphins for friends,” Zady responded. “He was just kidding, but when we were little, we believed him.”

  “How did your mom react?”

  “She told him to get stuffed,” Zady said. “That’s putting it mildly. But somehow they stayed married until...”

  “Enough of the unfinished sentences,” he reminded her.

  “Until he died of a heart attack in bed with someone else,” she finished sharply.

  “I’m sorry.” That must have been a shock. “How old were you?”

  “Twenty-two.” She shook off the memory. “What kind of tales did your dad tell?”

  Nick chose from an assortment of disturbing examples. “Most often, that he had movie stars and directors following him around, offering him film contracts.”

  “Was he joking?”

  “Afraid not.”

  “That is crazy,” she conceded.

  “He was bipolar, and in his manic phase, he confused the faces of strangers with those of famous people.” The truth had dawned on Nick gradually. “By the time I understood how seriously ill he was, he’d abandoned us.”

  “How awful for you and your mom.”

  “She handled it in her unique fashion,” he recalled with a mixture of sadness and affection. “Mom was given to magical thinking. She seemed to believe she was starring in a Cinderella story and that if she kept sticking her foot out, one day someone would place a glass slipper on it.”

  “You’re exaggerating.”

  “Not by much.” He missed his mom’s reality-defying optimism, but not the gullibility that had led her into foolish relationships and overspending. Money had vanished as quickly as she obtained it—often faster. “She was a nursing assistant in a convalescent home. I gather her patients found her entertaining.”

  “Is she still alive?” Zady asked.

  “She died of cancer two years ago,” he said. “How about your mother?”

  “Remarried, living in Oregon and stirring up trouble whenever possible between Zora and me,” she told him. “She was jealous of our closeness, we discovered later. Sad, huh?”

  “It’s always a jolt when kids learn that their parents are human.” He chose not to point out the parallel to Elaine’s behavior. No sense bringing up the Carrigans while he and Zady were getting closer. “I wish I’d made a better start with Caleb, that I’d fought harder for time with my son.”

  “Is that realistic?” she asked. “I mean, considering the circumstances.”

  “Maybe not, but I could have tried.” Finding his bowl empty, he debated refilling it, but he’d consumed more than enough calories today.

  Zady carried her cup to the sink. “Good night, other Dr. Davis.”

  “For Linda’s sake, I hope you don’t snore.”

  “Me, too.” She sauntered away.

  Arranging his bowl and her cup in the dishwasher, Nick hummed softly until he recognized the tune as the hokeypokey. Heavens, that woman was nothing if not memorable.

  They’d also just shared the most revealing, intimate conversation he’d ever had with a woman. Or with anyone.

  Chapter Twelve

  Heading for the break room on Tuesday evening, Nick couldn’t wait for a cup of coffee and a few minutes of peace before beginning his shift in Labor and Delivery. As usual during the evenings, he’d spent the past two hours meeting new patients, coming quickly up to speed on their medical histories and gently probing subjects that they hesitated to verbalize.

  These days, a woman’s obstetrician-gynecologist often functioned as her primary medical provider. Today he once again wished for the wisdom of TV’s Marcus Welby as he listened to his patients’ marital problems, personal insecurities and symptoms that might or might not be important.

  Opening the door to the break room, Nick barely had a chance to wonder why it had been shut before he discovered the reason: four faces fixed on him as he entered, all displaying wariness.

  His suitemates, Jack Ryder and Adrienne Cavill-Hunter, along with nurse Lori Sellers, had been joined at a table by a dark-haired man with a short mustache. Their tension reminded him about the dispute over future office space.

  “Nick, I’m not sure if you’ve met my husband, Jared.” Tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear, Lori gestured toward the newcomer. “He’s a neonatologist.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” Nick shook hands with the fellow. In truth, though, he wasn’t pleased to make anyone’s acquaintance at this hour, even though he shared their concern. “Please excuse me if I don’t linger. I’m due over at the hospital.”

  “You haven’t heard?” demanded Jack, who, instead of sitting with the others, was leaning against the counter within easy reach of a box of doughnuts.

  “Don’t play Twenty Questions with him.” Adrienne had the impressive knack of always appearing fresh and neat, her blond hair pulled into a bun and her suit unwrinkled beneath her white coat. “The hospital announced that a couple of surgical fellows will be joining the staff.”

  As he poured a cup of coffee, Nick recalled Lucky mentioning a grant. He’d had no difficulty complying with the other man’s request for discretion, since he’d been off duty until tonight. “Well, we expected more staff in the men’s program, right?”

  “Yes, but they don’t intend to stop there,” Jared said. “A few minutes ago, I was leaving my office on the sixth floor—”

  “Where he’s crammed in with another neonatologist and two pediatricians on what’s supposed to be the orthopedics floor,” Lori put in.

  “And I happened to pass the conference room,” her husband continued. “Cole and Marshall Davis were in there reviewing applicants. Your cousin—I got the relationship correctly, didn’t I?—was suggesting other foundations that might sponsor fellowships.”

  “A veritable conspiracy of evil,” Nick murmured, only half kidding.

  “Those guys have the administration’s ear,” Jack complained. “Dr. Tartikoff ought to stick up for us, since he’s the fertility chief, but he’s more concerned about the opinions of the other superspecialists.”

  “Plus, who would dare pressure him? He’s intimidating,” Lori said.

  “Ultimately, allocating office space falls to Dr. Rayburn, doesn’t it?” As administrator, Mark Rayburn struck Nick as much more approachable than Owen Tartikoff, an internationally renowned fertility expert notorious for his abrasiveness.

  �
��Yes, but we aren’t party to their backroom conversations,” Jack said. “We’ve voiced our concern at staff meetings, but as far as we can tell, those concerns were not heard.”

  “The more people who show solidarity with our cause, the stronger our case,” said Lori’s husband.

  “Good point.” Nick resented his cousin’s high-handed approach. A major decision like allocation of office space should be conducted with input from the entire medical staff, not just the urology department. “What’s next?”

  “We intend to act soon,” Jack said. “Beyond that, I’m not at liberty to say.”

  Figuring he deserved a reward for having his peaceful break stolen from him, Nick took a doughnut. “Keep me posted.”

  As he hurried down the stairs—it was faster than taking the elevator, and better exercise—Nick tamped down his qualms about leaping into a controversy. He might be the new guy, but he intended to stay at Safe Harbor, and his future ability to accommodate a practice might be at stake.

  His cell rang as he emerged into the lobby. Could it be an emergency in Labor and Delivery? In the split second before he brought the screen into clear view, he had a more alarming thought, that something had happened to Caleb.

  His caller ID read, Unknown. “Dr. Davis,” he answered.

  “Nick Davis?” a man asked gruffly.

  Despite the passage of years, despite the distance physically and emotionally, Nick instantly recognized the voice.

  It was his father’s.

  * * *

  ZADY WAS LOADING the dishwasher when she received a call, a very welcome one. And several days overdue.

  “I’m sorry we haven’t been in touch sooner.” Alice’s contrite face appeared on Zady’s screen. “Bill was out with clients last night and again tonight.”

  “Is he with you now?” Zady asked.

  Her friend shook her head. “No. He asked me not to call until he came back, but honestly, I’m dying to talk to my baby. I figured if we wait too long, she’ll be asleep. How is she?”

  Zady glanced into the living room, which doubled as a playroom, since the house had no den. “She and Caleb are playing with his toddler train set.”

  “Sounds like fun. Is she upset about not hearing from us?”

  “She asks about you, but I try to keep her busy.” Zady filled in her friend about the past few days. Linda seemed to enjoy the day care center and the other children, was eating and sleeping well, and only fussed when tired. “She’s almost too easygoing,” Zady admitted. “Eager to please.” As if she’s afraid I’ll leave her, too. But she didn’t want to imply a criticism.

  “You have a gift with her,” Alice said. “I suppose it’s natural you’re on the same wavelength.”

  “I love her, but I’m no substitute for you and Bill,” Zady hurried to reassure her friend. “You look great, by the way.”

  Alice touched her smoothly curled mane of blond hair. “I had it done at the hotel beauty shop. Picked up a new suit, too. I mean, why are we earning all this money if we can’t enjoy it?”

  Something didn’t feel right to Zady. Her friend appeared to prefer going shopping to confronting Bill about spending more time together. Hadn’t recapturing the magic in their relationship been part of the reason for traveling without their daughter?

  Reminding herself it was none of her business, Zady carried the phone into the living room. “Linda, it’s your mom.”

  The girl bounced to her feet, scattering blocks. “Mommy!” She ran over to grab the phone. “Mommy, Mommy! Hug me!”

  Alice’s laughter warmed the air. “Wish I could, sweetie pie.”

  As the pair chatted, Caleb grabbed a block and threw it at Linda. Zady batted it aside. She didn’t blame him for his jealousy, but he had to learn better ways to express it.

  “Let’s go punch a pillow, okay?” she told Caleb.

  He scowled. “No.”

  On the phone’s speaker, she heard another voice—Bill’s. “Daddy!” Linda jumped up and down, nearly dropping the device. How fortunate that he had come home early enough to join the conversation.

  Caleb’s jaw fixed angrily. “It’s my turn.”

  “To talk on the phone?” Zady asked.

  He nodded fiercely. “I miss Grandma and Grandpa, too.”

  “Of course you do.” However, Nick hadn’t given Zady permission to call the Carrigans except in a dire emergency. “Hang in there till Linda’s call is finished, and I’ll see if I can reach your dad. To be sure it’s okay.”

  He folded his arms and hunkered down.

  A few minutes later, the Madisons said good-night to their daughter and thanked Zady again for taking care of her. “My pleasure,” she responded. “I just hope this trip is accomplishing its mission, or should I say, missions.”

  “Our sales are exceeding expectations.” Bill’s bearded face dominated the small screen. “Plus, I’ve lined up a couple more seminars that should expand our business’s reach.”

  “I meant...” Stop there. You aren’t a marriage counselor. “Connecting with you tonight was good for Linda. Call again soon, okay?”

  “We will,” the Madisons chorused.

  The instant the call ended, Caleb sprang up. “Now me!”

  “Let’s make sure it’s okay with your father.” She pressed his number.

  It went directly to voice mail. He must either be delivering a baby, with a patient or on another call.

  Zady left a brief message. “I can’t reach him,” she told Caleb. “Let’s wait a few minutes in case we hear back.”

  “It’s not fair!” His voice rose to a shriek. “I want my grandma and grandpa! I want them now!”

  While Linda stared, Zady registered that the boy was approaching meltdown. And, in a sense, he was justified. How could a child this young be expected to watch a companion bask in her parents’ love while he remained shut off from his grandparents?

  She made an executive decision. If Nick didn’t like it, he could chew her out later.

  Last night, they’d opened up to each other, revealing sensitive memories that until now Zady had shared only with her sister. Afterward, she’d nestled into her sheets and fallen asleep imagining Nick’s arms around her and his body infusing hers with its heat. Having him yell at her and remind her that she was little more than paid help ought to remedy her weakness for him in a hurry.

  “Okay,” she said. “Let’s call them.”

  * * *

  “WHAT DO YOU WANT, QUENTIN?” Nick demanded curtly into his cell. Being forced to linger in the lobby to talk to his father rather than risk having others overhear added to his annoyance.

  “I understand I have a grandson.”

  “Don’t tell me it took you three years to figure that out.” His dad could have learned about Caleb from Nick’s mother, had he bothered to talk to her while she was alive. Or by doing a search for Nick’s résumé online.

  Quentin Davis coughed. Nothing about the sound was severe or indicative of disease, Nick registered automatically; it was just a dry cough, the kind that implied uneasiness. “I mean, I hear he’s living with you now.”

  “So?” Nick disliked being churlish, but he owed his father nothing.

  “I was hoping I could meet him.”

  “Why? To build up his expectations before you abandon him? He’s already lost his mother. He doesn’t need your brand of parenting.”

  The silence on the other end lengthened until Nick wondered if his father was still there. “Dad? I have patients waiting.”

  A long breath resonated from wherever Quentin was. Bakersfield, California, working the night shift in a warehouse, he’d said when they’d spoken a few years ago. “The truth is, I want to see you.”

  Nick strained for patience. “Is something wrong, Dad? How’s your he
alth?”

  “It’s fine.” Quentin sounded mildly amused at the suggestion. “You expecting the cliché where I show up and tell you I’m dying? No such luck. But there are matters I should have disclosed to you before, and I can’t do it over the phone. Let’s arrange a get-together.”

  “There’s a lot going on in my life right now,” Nick said. “If whatever it is has waited this long, it can wait a while longer.”

  “I’m not getting any younger,” his father observed—speaking of clichés. “Besides, Marshall seemed to think...”

  “What does Marshall have to do with this?”

  “I didn’t have your current number and I wasn’t sure where you were working,” his father said. “I saw online that Marshall was at Safe Harbor, so I called him.”

  Marshall had joined the staff several months earlier, which explained why his profile was on the hospital’s website, but Nick’s wasn’t. “And he provided my personal information.”

  “He was very pleasant,” Quentin said. “You could learn from him.”

  “How charming that you had a fun chat with my cousin and he filled you in on my private business.”

  “You may not understand an old man’s longing to come clean about his youthful mistakes.” Typical. Quentin often dismissed the severity of his wrongdoing by terming them “youthful mistakes.”

  “You’re right. I don’t.”

  “Everybody deserves a second chance.”

  “Not everyone.” Nick was surprised at the amount of anger he still felt toward his father. “Dad, I’m clicking off now. Whatever you have to say, put it in a letter and mail it to me here at the hospital. Be sure you remember my first name is Nick. As for Marshall, feel free to call him whenever you like.” Grimly, Nick ended the call.

  What colossal nerve his father had. He was probably attending a self-help group that urged participants to apologize for past mistakes. Well, Nick had longed for his dad to be there during his adolescence, but Quentin hadn’t bothered to reach out to him then. Now, even had he been willing to see his father, he refused to let the man near Caleb. The boy had more than enough on his plate.