The Doctor's Accidental Family

by Jacqueline Diamond

  He looked at Zady. Busy assisting Caleb in buttering his crumbly muffin, she merely smiled. Had she heard the comment above the murmur of the ocean? If so, how did she feel about it?

  Nick knew better than to assume anything about the long term. Zady’s loyalties naturally lay with her goddaughter, her boss and whatever future she had in mind.

  But even if that didn’t include him, at least now he had a sense of what it would mean to be part of a family, if he ever found the right woman. But how could anyone else match Zady? With unruffled assurance, she soothed Caleb’s embarrassment when he dropped his spoon and reassured her goddaughter when a nearby leashed terrier burst into a volley of barking.

  When Linda scrambled onto her lap, Nick noticed again what a matched set those two were. No wonder people assumed they were mother and daughter. Just for today, why not pretend they all belonged together?

  After the snack, they took a walk on the beach that lay west of the harbor. The children were restless, so Nick figured it was his turn to hatch a game. “Let’s pretend we’re pirates and hunt for buried treasure.”

  “Treasure?” Linda’s eyes widened.

  “Gold!” Caleb said, swinging Nick’s hand eagerly.

  He hadn’t meant to raise unrealistic expectations. “More like stuff people lose in the sand.”

  “Or pretty rocks and shells and sea glass,” Zady said.

  “What’s sea glass?” Nick asked.

  “You don’t know, Dad?” His son regarded him sternly.

  “I don’t know everything,” he admitted.

  “My sister mentioned that her obstetrician comes here to collect sea glass,” Zady explained. “It’s pieces of old bottles, jars, plates and so on that have been lost in shipwrecks or thrown away. Over the centuries, the waves buff and smooth them. In ancient times, the pieces were called mermaid tears.”

  “I want mermaid tears!” Linda cried.

  “I’ll find you one,” Caleb offered, and darted ahead.

  Amazingly, he scored a thumb-size amber piece, gemlike and glowing in the sunshine. Soon the kids were scampering about, sand sticking to their shoes and pants, picking up all manner of glittering objects. Nick and Zady scurried to supervise and ensure they didn’t cut themselves.

  They tucked the treasures into a couple of plastic bags Zady produced from her purse. “It’s good to have them handy,” she explained to Nick.

  At home, with the kids cleaned up and napping, he hoped for an hour or so alone to talk with Zady. To his disappointment, she retreated into her room with Linda, claiming weariness.

  Nick’s attempts to concentrate on medical journals proved fruitless. He pictured Zady sleeping curled, or possibly sprawled, in the other room. How cute she was. And how much cuter if she came out here to keep him company.

  Retreating to the kitchen, he checked his phone for messages and then replayed one he’d received earlier and ignored. It was from his father.

  “Nick, it’s, uh, Quentin.” Mercifully, he refrained from using “Dad,” a title he didn’t deserve. “I wasn’t entirely honest with you when we talked.” What a shock, Nick thought sarcastically. “You probably guessed I’m in a 12-step program. It’s important to my progress that I apologize for past wrongs. To you and others. Call me and I’ll drive down whenever you say. One visit, that’s all. After that, you can cross me off your list. Although it would mean a lot if I could meet Caleb. But that’s not the main point. Call me.”

  What did he mean, “to you and others”? Nick’s mother was no longer alive to receive an apology. If the man had offended other people, he ought to apologize to them separately or explain further. Instead, this felt like a way of maneuvering himself into Caleb’s life.

  Irritated, Nick placed a call, not to his father but to the Carrigans. Elaine spoke sharply at first, repeating that they had back-to-back buyers touring the house tomorrow and couldn’t possibly see Caleb. However, she softened when he told her how upset her grandson was about the canceled plans.

  “A week from tomorrow, you bring Caleb and we’ll have a reunion,” she promised. “Come hell or high water.”

  “Done.”

  After setting a time, he thanked her and ended the call. Only then did it occur to him that she hadn’t invited Zady. Just as well, he supposed.

  Still too restless to read, Nick phoned to thank Lucky for recommending the plumber. “Glad to do it,” the man said. “Listen, why don’t you folks join us at our house tonight for pizza.”

  Great idea—socializing would be fun, and with others around, he and Lucky weren’t likely to engage in a debate about work. “I’m buying,” Nick replied. “How many pizzas and what toppings? Oh, vegetarian for you, I remember.”

  Lucky filled him in on his housemates’ preferences. This promised to be a cheery end to a cozy day, Nick mused as he clicked off. Being around a family like Lucky and Zora’s, as well as Rod and Karen and the girls, used to make him uncomfortable. Today, he was in the right spirit.

  Not that he deluded himself about the permanence of his living arrangements. But for now, it was what he and his son needed.

  * * *

  MUCH AS SHE appreciated Nick’s generosity and thoughtfulness in arranging dinner with Lucky’s household, Zady didn’t believe her sister was the right person for her to hang out with. In fact, right now Zora was the worst-possible role model to dangle in front of her.

  Not just because her twin had failed in her first marriage or done stupid and even immoral things on a par with Zady’s embarrassing history. The dangerous part was that Zora had made every mistake in the book and triumphed anyway. She’d had an affair with a married man—her former high school sweetheart—and, after he’d dumped his wife, Zora had married him. Even after Andrew cheated on her, she’d slept with the guy while they were on the eve of divorcing, and gotten pregnant with twins. He’d responded by signing the divorce papers that he’d sworn he meant to cancel.

  In the old, moralistic stories of the Victorian era, Zora would have ended up a homeless wreck, abandoned by her children and everyone else. Instead, Zady’s twin had married a wonderful guy who was a doting father to adorable babies Orlando and Elizabeth. Her ex-husband even sent the occasional child support payment after he’d moved out of state.

  That happy outcome explained, but did not excuse, the fantasies that crept into Zady’s thoughts as she sat at the large dining room table in Karen Vintner’s house, watching Nick and the kids show off their sea glass treasures. Tiffany and Amber vowed to start a collection of their own, while the older nurse, Keely, added snippets of information she’d learned from the doctor she assisted, Paige Brennan, about her extensive sea glass collection.

  In Zady’s imagination, she and Nick furnished their house with a display case for these and future finds. On her finger, a ring like Zora’s flashed in the light of the chandelier. Caleb called her Mom instead of Auntie Zee, while Linda—oh, heavens, seeing Linda close to Zora emphasized their resemblance, the little girl’s ginger hair and animated face testament to their genetic connection. Our genetic connection.

  One more daydream: Alice calling to say she’d decided motherhood didn’t suit her and Zady could keep their daughter. No, no, no, Zady didn’t wish that. She’d been glad to donate eggs to her friend, and the bond between Alice and Linda was far more powerful than anything the little girl felt for Zady. But tonight, the yearning to be a mom and beloved wife raged through her.

  You idiot.

  Realizing that her silence was drawing curious glances, Zady put forth an effort to join the conversation. Yet all the while, she noticed how Nick’s expression brightened when he regarded her, as if...

  Stop that.

  After dinner, Tiff and Amber organized a game called Freeze Dancing. In the den, they played catchy music, then halted it midbeat. Everyone had to freeze in the
most ridiculous position possible, while Keely snapped pictures. After fifteen minutes of this, they reviewed the pictures and voted on who looked the silliest. The winner was Rod, but they disqualified the anesthesiologist because he used props: a Mickey Mouse hat plus reading glasses that he put on upside down and crooked.

  Caleb was declared the winner and Linda the first runner-up. Everyone cheered.

  Riding home with the children bobbing sleepily in their booster seats, Zady wished she knew what Nick was thinking. All day, he’d seemed light-spirited. Did he, too, wish they were more to each other than comrades in arms?

  At home, they took turns reading aloud to the kids on the couch before she escorted Linda in one direction and he accompanied Caleb in the other. To Zady’s delight, the little boy ran to her for a hug. “Good night, Auntie Zee!”

  “Good night, you wonderful little guy,” she said.

  The angles of Nick’s face softened as he watched them. Then he picked up his son and carried the gleeful child piggyback into the boy’s room.

  No doubt Caleb’s mood sprang in part from Nick’s earlier announcement that they’d be visiting the Carrigans on Sunday. But perhaps it meant he was finally putting behind him his irrational—or so she hoped—dislike of Zady.

  When they both returned to the living room, she thanked Nick for a terrific day.

  “Why thank me?” he asked.

  “You organized it,” she said.

  “You were its heart and soul.”

  Happiness bubbled up. “Welcome to the Davis-Moore mutual-admiration society.”

  “I like that.” Nick grinned. “Whoa! I hear rustling outside. Shall we sneak out there and catch Mr. Possum in action?”

  “I hate for the kids to miss it.” But she had no desire to wake them.

  “Here’s a better idea. Hold on.” Nick ducked into his room and retrieved a camera and a jacket. “This does better at night than my cell. We can share the pictures with them in the morning.”

  “Let me fetch a sweater.” The night temperatures had dipped into the forties lately.

  “Don’t disturb Linda. I brought this for you.” When he held out the flannel jacket, Zady took it gratefully. His spicy male essence infused the fabric and surrounded her, raising excited tingles along her skin.

  They slipped onto the patio. Sitting side by side in resin chairs, with the door ajar so they could hear the kids, they gazed into the starry night.

  The high bushes around the yard admitted only a few flickers of light from nearby houses. The scent of barbecue from a neighbor’s yard mingled with the rich smells of plants, while the background murmur of cars and TVs faded as Zady registered night sounds: the breeze in the leaves, the whisper of unseen creatures stirring.

  In the cool air, Nick’s hand sheltered hers. He didn’t have to speak; they simply connected. A rush of heat enveloped Zady, and she leaned toward him instinctively.

  Nick touched her shoulder and shifted closer. Such dark eyes, yet they picked up a hint of moonlight. Or stardust. Zady wasn’t sure which, only that his mouth belonged on hers, and she opened to him.

  Her body reverberated with the joy of kissing him, of his knee brushing hers and his tongue flicking against her teeth. His rough cheek fit into the curve of her palm; his breathing speeded up.

  Then he stiffened. “What?” she whispered.

  “It’s the possum. We can’t miss this.” He drew away, quietly lifting the camera into place.

  Zady’s frustration vanished when she caught sight of the marsupial venturing across the patio with a row of babies clinging to her back. Three or four inches long, not counting the tails, the little creatures hung on as their mother paused to stare in Nick and Zady’s direction.

  The camera lens whirred and a light flashed. Mrs. Possum stood motionless, as if transfixed. When the light went off again, she hesitated for a minute, then scurried into the bushes.

  “How’re the pictures?” Zady asked. “Did you get that?”

  “We’ll find out.” Heaving a satisfied breath, Nick added, “We sure had a clear view, didn’t we?”

  “I can’t believe she trotted out here with her babies. Oh, I think the kids’ book said baby possums are called joeys.” To Zady, it felt as if fate was telling them that they, like the possum, had found a safe place. The breeze picked up, chilling her, and she shivered.

  “We should go inside,” Nick said, rising. He reached for her hand.

  * * *

  IF YOU DIDN’T SEIZE the moment, it would vanish. Vaguely, Nick recalled that sometimes impatience had led him to push too hard, too fast. But tonight he wanted the whole experience, to unite with Zady in every sense. Once they made love, surely there’d be no more question of divided loyalties.

  In the coziness of the kitchen, he touched her hair, enjoying its springiness. “Better now?”

  At his elbow, she peered at the camera. “How did the pictures come out?”

  Nick’s arm encircled her while he switched the camera to viewing mode. The first image showed the possum in profile, the babies barely discernible. In the second, she faced the camera, eyes glowing, as did the pups. The third proved disappointing, with only her hindquarters in view.

  “The second one’s the best,” Zady said. “Can you share it with me?”

  “Of course.” After sending the pictures to her email and his own, Nick switched off the camera. “That was fun.”

  “More than fun.” She rested her cheek against his arm. “Special.”

  A delicious quiver ran through him. “This was an almost perfect day.” He swallowed before adding, “We could make it perfect.”

  Zady reached up and looped her arms around him. “Do you think the children are asleep?”

  “By now, surely...”

  The doorbell rang. Nick swore softly. Despite the desire to ignore their uninvited caller, he couldn’t allow the person to ruin everything by waking the kids. “Just let me get rid of whoever that is.”

  “No argument here.”

  Gritting his teeth, Nick paced through the living room, flicked on the porch light and opened the door.

  The woman standing there was tall, blonde and familiar. With a jolt, he registered that there was no way he could simply dismiss Linda’s mother.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “It’s useless.” Her long legs stretched beneath the kitchen table, Alice fiddled with her teacup. “Bill keeps saying our marriage is important, but then he schedules another business appointment. And he orders me around like the hired help.”

  “Did you tell him you were leaving?” As soon as she’d seen her old friend in the doorway, Zady had figured the news couldn’t be good. Tactfully, Nick had retreated to his room, allowing the two of them privacy.

  The other woman shrugged. In the less-than-flattering overhead light, her fair skin showed more creases than Zady remembered. Although Alice was only in her early forties, her light complexion made her vulnerable to wrinkles, which she fought with expensive moisturizing creams. “What’s the point? I suppose it’s kind of late in the evening to swoop in here and take my daughter, but I miss her so much.”

  Earlier, they’d peeked in at Linda. The girl slept soundly, arms around her second-favorite doll. Some of the tension had seeped from Alice’s face at the reassuring sight.

  “I understand,” Zady said. “It might be wise to get a good night’s rest and pick her up tomorrow.”

  “I am tired after my flight.” Alice ran a hand through her untidy hair. “My mind keeps listing things to do. Find a divorce lawyer. Rent an apartment—I won’t be able to afford a house.”

  “It kills me to think of you guys breaking up,” Zady said. “When you started dating Bill, I was impressed by how perfectly in sync you were. It was obvious you belonged together.”

&
nbsp; “People change,” Alice said sadly.

  “I realize I’m a lousy person to offer advice, but even the best relationships require adjustments.” Zady sipped from her cup before continuing. “Bill loves you. Even though he wanted biological children, he offered to adopt a child when you couldn’t conceive, remember?”

  “His parents longed to pass on their genes,” Alice reminisced. “His mother’s a concert pianist—have you noticed how musical Linda is?”

  The little girl did keep rhythm well, in Zady’s opinion. During the Freeze Dancing game, she’d always stopped right on the beat. “Absolutely.”

  “If you hadn’t donated eggs, I’m not sure what I’d have done,” her friend said. “So you’ve earned the right to give advice, not that I’m promising to take it.”

  “There’s a new counselor at the hospital named Franca Brightman.” Zady recognized the irony of recommending therapy when she’d resisted it for herself. Nevertheless, Alice and Bill obviously couldn’t resolve their problems on their own. “I talked to her last week and it’s amazing how much insight I gained from just one...meeting.” She skipped over the fact that it hadn’t been a formal session. “I understand now why Dwayne’s kids hated me, and why my efforts to get close to them failed. Professional help can be a real eye-opener.”

  “Counseling is expensive. Maybe not for you at the hospital, but it would be for us.” Alice tapped the rim of her cup. She’d drained her tea. Ordinarily Zady would have offered a refill, but it was more important to pursue her point than to play hostess.

  “More expensive than divorce lawyers?” she countered. “Or breaking up your business partnership?”

  “I suppose that’s true.” Alice’s lips pressed together as she weighed the idea.

  “Hold on.” Zady darted across the room to her purse. Usually, objects disappeared into the bag’s clutter with maddening elusiveness, but she found Franca’s card in the zipper pocket. A sign from fate, no doubt. “Here. Give her a call. She’s new, so she might not be fully booked.”

  “Does she counsel people who aren’t staff or patients?” Alice asked.