“Don’t worry,” I say as I touch her arm. I don’t mean to, but now that I have I can’t let go. I look from her to my hand and back to her. She’s looking at my hand and I can’t tell if she’s disgusted or pleased. Either way, I have to let go because I’m not prepared to handle the tingling sensation I’m getting from touching her.
“I’m going to go shower,” I say, stepping away from her. I hate leaving her in the middle of the road, but if I stay, I fear verbal vomit will get the best of me and I don’t want to scare her off. I’m scared enough for the both of us.
Chapter 2
The cold water is a welcome reprieve. For the most part, I enjoy the cold trickle, but there are times when a hot shower would do to ease my aches and pains. Hot water is a rare luxury around here. Before I arrived, I spent a week in a hotel in Florida on the beach. This was the hotel where Josie and I were supposed to go on vacation. The night before we were to leave, we fought. It was the first time since we'd been together that I was glad that Noah wasn’t there. I needed to say some things and didn’t want him to hear me.
Instead of us packing for our vacation, we were breaking up. I was breaking us up, beating her to the inevitable. I have no doubt she would’ve stayed with me out of obligation, but I couldn’t put her in that position. In the back of my mind, she would’ve cheated and that is the one thing I couldn’t live with. I know her that well to know she was second-guessing us.
Once Mason passed away I knew things would change. I fully expected to step-up and help Katelyn with the girls. What I didn’t expect was for Liam to return. I would’ve never thought that he kept tabs on everyone, or even read the paper. What were the chances that he read it the day after Mason was killed?
I work my neck muscles under the water. I want to stop thinking about my life in Beaumont. I don’t want to know what’s going on there. How Peyton and Elle are doing and whether Katelyn has taken them to see a therapist. They need it, whether she is willing to admit it or not. She needs it too. She spent far too much time consoling Josie than she did dealing with her husband’s death. I chide myself for not sticking around at least for her and the twins.
I shut off the water and wrap a towel around my waist. There is no need to dry off; the heat will do the job. My clothes selection is limited, but given that I live in a dust bowl and an oven, the fewer clothes the better. Except for the bugs. I could do without the killer mosquitoes and constantly sleeping under a net.
I dress quickly again in khaki shorts and opt for a black dress shirt. I don’t know why I brought it, it’s not like I have fancy dinners or meetings to attend. The dress attire here is causal and relaxed. No stuffy doctors coats or gaudy nurses uniforms staring at us all day.
I run down to our reading room and grab the small card table and two folding chairs and take them out back. We have a small deck area, but nothing to sit on. I set up the table and chairs, wishing I had a candle or a vase of flowers to add to the ambiance. This will have to do.
Aubrey is standing in the kitchen with two plates and two glasses of water in front of her. Her grin is infectious and I can’t help the wide smile that cracks over my own face. My stride is quick as I make my way to where she’s standing and even though she’s in shorts and t-shirt, similar to what she wore today to work, I take in all of her.
I pick up the plates of food and signal for her to follow me outside. She gasps when we step outside. I know it’s not much and if we were home I could offer her better, but we’re here and I’m trying to make this the best first date either of us are going to have in Africa.
First date? Did I mean to call what we are doing here tonight a date? Many colleagues meet and have tea or share a dinner. Why classify what we are doing as a date? Is it because deep down this is what I want?
Setting the plates down, I pull out the chair for her and help her scoot under the table. I watch as she puts the napkin on her lap. I sit across from her and do the same. Everything feels comfortable, like she and I have been doing this for years, yet I know nothing about her.
“So, Dr. Ashford, how are you liking Africa?” she doesn’t waste any time. I thought we’d eat a bit before we delved into personal talk.
I rest my arms on the table and look at her so she knows I’m giving her my full attention.
“Please, call me Nick and I like it here, for the most part. There are things that I miss from home like air conditioning…” I laugh. “I miss other things too, but nothing material. What about you? This has to be different from South Africa.”
Aubrey sets her spoon down and puts her hands in her lap. “My parents, they wanted the best for me. They may be missionaries and I went to boarding school, but I spent my summers in their camps. They wanted me to experience both worlds and decide for myself what I wanted to do.”
“And what did you decide?”
“I haven’t yet. I’m supposed to start college in the fall. I’ve taken a year off to volunteer.”
The world college catches my attention. I mentally take a step back. I never gave age a consideration. I know I’ve checked out of the conversation. She’s still talking, but I don’t hear a world she’s saying.
Her fingers snap in front of my face. I have to blink a few times to bring myself back into this realm.
“Is it something I said?”
“No,” I lie.
“Okay.” I can see the hurt on her face and I feel like a total shit. What the hell is wrong with me? Here I am sitting across from a beautiful woman and I’m worried about her age. Why does that even matter?
“Aubrey, I’m sorry. I was taken aback by your college remark.”
“Oh.” I can’t tell if she’s relieved or just accepting that I’m nothing but a jerk.
“Can I ask how old you are?”
Aubrey takes a drink of her water. There’s a wicked glint in her when she puts her glass down.
“I’m twenty-one and have probably seen and experienced more in my lifetime than you ever will.”
“You’re right,” I say.
I need to fix this. I need to stop being stupid and letting something as trivial as age affect me. I throw my napkin down on the table and push my chair back. Her face falls and it’s in that moment that I know I can do this. That is what I tell myself as I reach for the plates. I can be a man and start living my life whether it's here or back home. I can live with my turmoil toward Noah while letting my life take a different course. Is that course with Aubrey? I don’t know. What I do know is that I don’t like the way she looked when I stood up.
“I’m not very hungry. Would you like to go for a walk?”
She looks up at me and nods. We clean up our mess, washing and putting away our dishes and make our way out of the dorm. We walk to the edge of the compound and as much as I’d love to leave, we don’t. There is enough to explore without compromising our safety.
I direct us toward the playground. The children are all in for the night so we have some privacy. She sits on the swing and I take this opportunity to stand behind her. I push her gently and watch as she sways back and forth. I remember doing this with Noah when he was little, teaching him how to pump his legs in and out. He outgrew swinging the moment he picked up a football. I saw the talent in him, but wanted to ignore it. I didn’t want Josie having to deal with what she hated most in her life, but as his parents, we couldn’t pretend it wasn’t happening. I did the next best thing and started coaching Noah and instilled as many values as I could.
“I’m sorry for my reaction back there. I’m here… I’m here because my fiancée and I broke up and this was the best way for me to deal with it. Initially, I had hoped she was going to come with me, but things didn’t work out that way.”
“Are you still in love with her?” Aubrey’s voice is quiet, serene.
I think about her question and roll it over in my head. Am I still in love with Josie? I don’t know.
I never thought I’d see her again. We didn’t stay in touch when I went off to c
ollege, not that we had any reason to, but it would’ve been nice. I look down at the chart in my hand and see the name, Noah. I look back at her, she smiles weakly as the toddler in her arms cries uncontrollably. She looks tired and rightfully so.
“Josephine, it’s good to see you.” I say in my doctor voice. I had such a crush on her in high school, but she wouldn’t give me the time of day. She was always with Liam Westbury even though she could do so much better than him.
“Josie,” she replies. I nod, remembering that she didn’t like anyone to use her first name.
“You have a son?” I don’t mean for my words to come out as a question, but I’m shocked. I look at the file and see his name is Preston and not Westbury. My brow furrows, but I can’t ask her the question on my mind.
“I do and he’s sick and I don’t know what’s wrong with him.” She breaks down in tears. I get up and take the baby from her arms and lay him down on the table. He screams louder and tugs at his ear.
I look into his offending ear with my otoscope and see the irritation. I move my hands over his neck, shoulders and stomach feeling for any other issues to determine if we are working strictly with an ear infection or something else.
“I’ll be right back,” I say, leaving her and the baby in the room.
“I need a dose of amoxicillin and Motrin for the Preston boy.”
“Yes, Dr. Ashford.” I fill out the necessary script for his prescription when my nurse returns with a dropper of amoxicillin and one from the Motrin. I take them back to the room and find Josie cradling her son. My heart breaks for her and her boy.
I administer his meds, not something I usually do, but I’m not done spending time with her. I’m curious what happened between her and Liam, but am not willing to entertain the idea that he’s sitting at home, drinking beer, while she takes care of their son.
“He should feel better in about a half hour.” I rip his prescription from my script pad and hand it to her. “Fill this and make sure you finish the amoxicillin. He has an ear infection, but it will clear it up. You only need to give him the Motrin for today and if he has a fever.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Josie. Just call if you need anything.” I nod and leave the room, normal doctor procedure.
I watch as she walks out of the office. My nurse comes up behind me and clears her throat.
“Young single mom like that sure could use a nice respectable man to help take care of that baby.”
“Single?” I ask making sure my ears heard her correctly.
“Very single,” she says as she pats me on my shoulder.
“Honestly, I’m not sure. I’m in love with the idea that she represented. She has a son that I raised for six years and to wake-up and for them not to be there is painful. I miss him a lot. I miss being his dad and his friend, but I can’t be there for him right now.”
“What happened?”
I take the swing next her and move myself back and forth. “Her ex came back and it was like I didn’t exist. I couldn’t fight for her because she was so lost to him that I didn’t stand a chance. I tried, she tried, but it was just a matter of time before she went back to him and I couldn’t be there to watch that.”
Chapter 3
Tonight I plan to kiss Aubrey. We’ve fallen into a routine, well as much as we can have here. Each night after dinner, we take a walk. Things have been platonic and I know that’s because of me. Her subtle touches are telling me everything I need to know, I’m just afraid to take that step. We won’t always be here and I only volunteered for one year. She lives here and plans to go to college. What if we start something only to have to end it too soon? Or what if it doesn’t work out between us? I’m not sure I want the awkwardness. I can’t live in fear though.
When I walk into the clinic, Aubrey is helping an expectant mom. She looks at me with worried eyes and I know we’ll be in for a long day. She settles the mom in a room and comes back with her chart.
“What’s her status?” I’m in doctor mode even though she’s been on my mind all day. I thought I’d get tired of seeing her, but it’s been weeks since our first dinner and I've welcomed the thought of seeing her every day whether it’s at work or after.
“She’ll be ready in about an hour.”
“You think so?” I ask, looking up from the file.
“Yes, I’m betting dinner.”
I extend my hand out to shake hers. “You’re on. I’m off to see our patient.”
It doesn’t take long for me assess the soon-to-be mom. She’s young. She just turned fifteen. This is the part of the job I hate. I don’t mind taking care of sick babies and children, but when a young girl walks in with a protruding belly, anger boils inside of me. Most of these young girls are raped when they’re out in the field working for their families. On the rare occasion one will come in with her equally young husband and I can’t help but think about Noah in a few years and wonder if this could be him some day. I would hope not.
I watch the clock and smile when active labor starts. Aubrey now owes me dinner. It’s been an hour and half. I walk out to get her and tap my watch. She rolls her eyes and follows me back to the room.
Aubrey administers meds, but only enough to dull the pain. I need the girl awake and functioning enough to push her baby out. We are limited here with supplies and staff so the mother needs to do more than one would be required in a modern hospital. Aubrey holds her hand, something the baby’s dad or even this young girl’s parents should be doing, but not in this society.
Aubrey tells her to push, but is met with resistance. This is when an additional set of hands would be helpful. Aubrey works to calm her while I carefully push the baby forward by adding pressure to her abdomen. She screams out in pain and it makes me want to kill the man that did this to her. For every beautiful thing this country offers there is equally something disgusting to tarnish my opinion.
A local mid-wife comes in, unexpected, but definitely needed. She takes over for me so I can take care of the patient and she’ll take care of the delivery. Aubrey strokes the young woman’s head, whispering to her. I don’t know what she’s telling her, but it seems to be working. She keeps her eyes locked on Aubrey the whole time, the two of them sharing something I’ll never understand and I’m okay with that. The mid-wife speaks to her and she listens. The pushing starts and within minutes the room is filled with the sweet sounds of a newborn.
I take the baby from the mid-wife and start running the standard newborn tests making sure this precious baby is perfect. For the most part the baby looks healthy. I wash the little girl and hand her back to her mom. The bond is instant. Regardless of how this baby was conceived, she’s going to love her daughter.
I’m exhausted when I enter the makeshift bathroom. I wash my hands and splash cold water on my face. The delivery took longer than expected. When I came here I didn’t know I’d be delivering babies, but I really couldn’t say no. I’m here to give my service to these people who need it.
Aubrey enters. I can tell it’s her. My body is already reacting to her presence. Her hands find my back and they start massaging my shoulders. I close my eyes and stay still, allowing her to work some magic on my tight muscles. Her hands feel so good, her fingers working the stiff knots. I drop to my knees so she’s not reaching over me. She chuckles lightly, but moves behind me to finish the job. I roll my head from side to side as her fingers move into my hair.
I can feel her breath on my neck. Her nose skimming along my jaw, she’s no longer massaging my neck. Her lips press against my neck. This isn’t how I wanted our first kiss to happen. Not at work, not after an intense delivery.
I turn on my knees and face her. Her white blond hair is pulled back in a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her face. Her eyes glisten. I move the stray hair away from her face and cup her cheeks. I lean forward, kissing her lightly. I do it again with a bit more pressure. She gasps when my tongue runs along her lower lip. She grabs a fist full o
f my shirt and pulls me closer, which is my signal to stop.
“We need to stop.”
Her face falls and she releases my shirt. She moves back. “Oh, okay. I just thought—”
I stand and pull her hand into mine. “No, you thought right. I just don’t think this is the place for us to… you know.”
“Okay.”
I pull her close, wrapping my arm around her waist. “Believe me when I say I want to kiss you and can’t wait to collect after dinner.” I kiss the top of her nose and walk out of the bathroom. I need to get away from her before lust takes over and I do something in that small room that I’ll regret.
After work, I head back to the dorms. I need some time alone to think. Kissing Aubrey wasn’t a mistake, but throughout the day I started questioning myself. Am I ready for a relationship?
What Josie and I had, it was real, at least for me and I’m not sure I’ll be able to cope with another letdown. I can’t do causal. It’s not in my nature, so that’s out of the question. I suppose Aubrey and I need to sit down and discuss what we each want and make a decision from there. I can’t get hurt again. I just can’t.
I meet Aubrey out in front of the dorms once the sun goes down. They keep us fairly segregated here, with men on one side of the dorm and woman on the other. Only married couples are allowed to share a room. They don’t encourage fraternization either, something we need to be cautious of. I know that I don’t want to get kicked out of the program.
As soon as she’s out the door, I start walking toward the playground. This has been our date location since the first night. I know Aubrey owes me dinner, but we have more important things to discuss tonight.
We sit in our respective swings, swaying back and forth. The air between us is thick and that is exactly why I didn’t want to kiss her at work today. I don’t want there to be any awkwardness between us and now there is.
My Everything Page 2