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Her Secret Valentine

Page 9

by Cathy Gillen Thacker


  “Hello, Margaret.” At fifty, Ashley’s mother was every bit as beautiful as her only daughter. They shared the same elegant bone structure and tall, willowy frame. Margaret’s dark-brown hair was threaded lightly with gray and cut in a short, sophisticated, easy-care style now favored by many working women her age. Unlike Cal’s own mother, who had a clear delineation between family time and work, Margaret had a crisp, businesslike demeanor that carried over into her personal life. Warm and fuzzy were not words he would have used to describe her, even under the most sentimental of occasions. And judging by the cool look in her eyes, this was not one of those.

  “Cal.” Margaret nodded at him, brow raising at the sweat dripping down his face.

  Cal mopped the perspiration with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “I just got back from a run.”

  “So I see.”

  Telling himself not to be offended by the lack of affection in his mother-in-law’s eyes, Cal ushered her in and helped her off with her coat. “Ashley didn’t tell me you were coming.”

  Margaret straightened the hem of her tailored jacket. “I wanted to surprise her.”

  Margaret was going to do that all right, Cal thought. She followed him back to the furnished areas of the downstairs. “Where is my daughter?”

  Cal glanced at his watch, saw it was only four-thirty. “She’s still in Holly Springs seeing a few patients for a colleague she’s helping out.” He expressed his regret. “She won’t be home until six.” Or later. That left them with a lot of time to kill.

  “Is she doing this temporarily—I hope?” Margaret said.

  Cal nodded stiffly, wishing that his mother-in-law would keep her opinions to herself. “So it would seem.”

  “May I be frank with you?”

  Actually, I’d prefer you wouldn’t. But since he couldn’t very well tell his mother-in-law to back off, Cal simply waited.

  “What in the world is going on here, Cal?” Margaret sat down on the family-room sofa and crossed her trouser-clad legs at the knee. “Is Ashley even looking for suitable employment?”

  “Suitable” meaning anywhere else but here, Cal thought. “I think you should ask her that,” Cal said carefully.

  “I have.” Margaret looked annoyed. “She’s not responding to my e-mails on the subject and she hasn’t returned my phone calls, either.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” Cal continued in the same polite tone.

  “Then let me tell you something.” Margaret clasped her hands around one knee and leaned forward urgently. “I am not happy with this situation. You should be encouraging Ashley either to take the job in Maui, at least for a year or two, for the experience. Or you should be pushing her to look for employment worthy of her training and education elsewhere, instead of spending a lot of time and energy on getting married all over again,” she finished with a disapproving frown.

  Cal went into the kitchen to put a pot of coffee on. “I take it you don’t agree with that idea, either?” he asked from across the counter.

  Margaret shrugged. “I admit I don’t see the point. You and Ashley said your vows to each other once. What has changed in the three years since?”

  Everything. Nothing. Cal only knew things still weren’t right between them. He wanted the chance to start over fresh with Ashley, and this was the surest way to do it. He didn’t care if her parents approved of his romantic gesture or not.

  Finished, Cal strode back to the family room and sat down opposite Margaret. “First of all, Ashley doesn’t know anything about my Valentine’s Day present to her. And I am relying on you and Harold to keep the information to yourself. Second, I think it would mean a lot to Ashley if both you and Harold could attend.”

  “Her father and I are very busy right now. I don’t know if it’s going to be possible.”

  Well, then, so be it.

  “We did expect better of you, since you gave us your word at the time we gave you our blessing that you would never hold Ashley back career-wise.”

  That again. Cal pushed the words through his teeth. “I’ve supported her to the best of my ability, Margaret.”

  “Oh, really.” Margaret leaned forward angrily. “Then why is she here now, doing nearly nothing professionally? Why isn’t she still pursuing the dream she’s had since she was a small child?”

  IT FELT GREAT to be practicing medicine again, Ashley thought, as she greeted her last patient of the day. Great to be busy for at least part of every day all week long…although she had missed seeing Cal; she’d been seeing so much of him recently.

  “Hey, Dr. Hart.” Polly Pruett smiled. The twenty-three-year-old pregnant bride-to-be was all round, blond softness. Her pixie face glowed with happiness as she patted her burgeoning belly. “The receptionist said you were taking all of Dr. Ramirez’s patients this afternoon.”

  “Yes.” The nurse helped Polly lie back on the table while Ashley finished reviewing Polly’s chart. Then she began the exam. “Is that okay?”

  “Sure.” Polly relaxed on the table while Ashley palpated her abdomen.

  “How have you been feeling?” Ashley asked, reaching for the gloves.

  Polly grinned. “Well, my back hurts. I have to pee all the time so I can’t sleep more than a few hours at a time. I’m hungry enough to eat a horse and then some. And I have the gracefulness of an elephant on a parade. But other than that, I’m doing just fine.”

  Ashley chuckled at the humorous description of life in the ninth month of pregnancy.

  “It feels like the baby is dropping, too. Does that mean I’m about to go into labor?” Polly asked worriedly, obviously thinking about the wedding, just two weeks away now.

  Ashley switched on the lamp and sat down on the stool, so she could begin the pelvic exam. “A first-time mother can drop four weeks before the due date, and even go two weeks or so after that before she delivers.”

  Polly frowned. “So it could be six weeks?”

  “More like four, max, for you. But nothing looks imminent,” Ashley decreed as she finished and ripped off her gloves.

  Polly breathed a sigh of relief and pantomimed wiping the perspiration from her brow. “Whew. I’m glad you’re going to be at the Wedding Inn when I get married, anyway. That will make me feel better.”

  Ashley and the nurse both lent a hand and helped Polly sit up. “Well, we aim to please, both at the Inn and here in the office.”

  Polly made a face. “Now if we can just hold off that snowstorm…”

  Ashley looked up from the notations she was making on Polly’s chart. “What snowstorm?”

  Polly went back to rubbing her belly. “The one in the mountains of Tennessee that is headed our way.”

  Ashley loved snow—when she didn’t have to go anywhere. It was a pain when the roads were bad and you still had to show up for work. “When is it supposed to hit?” she asked, aware she hadn’t driven on the wet stuff in almost three years.

  “Tomorrow night, or possibly the following morning, depending on how fast the front moves,” the nurse said.

  Polly nodded. “Didn’t you see all the people running in and out of the grocery and hardware stores today?”

  Ashley tilted her head to the side. “I noticed a lot of cars. But I didn’t think much about it.”

  “Well, you should,” Polly said seriously. “’Cause you could get snowed in for days if we get as much precipitation as they are predicting. So you better make sure you have all the necessities on hand…”

  The only necessity for Ashley was Cal, whom she had seen precious little of the last four days. It seemed as if when he wasn’t on call, she was. But tonight, they were both due to have dinner together. And she couldn’t wait.

  Several phone calls and a stop at the med-center maternity ward later—where Ashley diagnosed the patient in question with Braxton-Hicks contractions and sent her home—Ashley was finally en route back to the farm. Unfortunately, Cal’s car wasn’t the only one in the driveway. Parked next to his was a rental car. />
  DINNER WITH ASHLEY’S MOTHER was a cordial if somewhat tense affair. All three of them cooked and then cleaned up together. Then Cal went upstairs to make phone calls to check on his post-op patients while the two women settled down for some private time in front of the fire.

  “Obviously, I came all the way out here for a reason,” Margaret said in a crisp, businesslike tone.

  “To see me?” Ashley quipped.

  “I made some phone calls.” Margaret reached into the leather carryall that went everywhere with her and pulled out a business card. “Shelley Denova is a headhunter who specializes in getting academic postings for physicians. There is a position coming open at Yale Medical School that hasn’t even been advertised yet.”

  Ashley tensed as her mother applied a pressure to succeed that was all too familiar. The one thing Ashley hadn’t missed in Hawaii were the face-to-face confrontations with her folks, and the inquisitions about why Ashley wasn’t doing better. It had never seemed to matter what Ashley did. When she had been named salutatorian of her high-school class, they had been disappointed she was not the valedictorian. When she had selected Wake Forest—rather than Harvard—to attend at the undergrad level, they had been upset; they had always envisioned her as “Ivy League” and could not understand why Ashley refused even to apply to the prestigious university. And she didn’t even want to think about their reaction when she had decided to go to medical school in Winston-Salem so she could be near Cal, who was doing his five-year surgical residency there. But they had finally gotten their way when they had pushed her to go to Hawaii to finish her fellowship. Obviously, both her parents expected her to continue to put her career ahead of her family. And Ashley wasn’t sure she wanted to do that. Especially since doing that for the past two years had brought her nothing but heartache and a loneliness so deep she didn’t think she was over it yet. “Yale is in Connecticut, Mother.”

  Margaret pooh-poohed Ashley’s concerns with a wave of her hand. “It’s a two-hour plane ride from here to there. You could work there during the week and see Cal every weekend.”

  Assuming she got the position; Ashley wasn’t sure she would. Not that this was the point, in any case. Ashley regarded her mother in frustration. “That’s not the same as living together, Mother.”

  Her mother couldn’t have cared less about the impact such a separation would have on Ashley and Cal’s marriage. She looked at Ashley sternly. “You will not be happy practicing medicine here.”

  Ashley got up to poke at the fire. “You don’t know that. I’m not even sure I want to practice medicine full-time!”

  Margaret laid a hand across her chest, as if she were about to have heart failure. Her face turned pale. “Don’t even joke about that, Ashley!”

  Who was joking? Ashley wondered, the hurt and resentment inside her building. If she was going to have a baby she wasn’t sure she wanted to work full-time. At least not right away! Not that she could discuss this with anyone just yet, either.

  “Now, I want you to pull together your résumé and list of references and call Shelley first thing tomorrow morning. I’ve written her cell and home numbers down on the back of her card. She’s expecting to hear from you. And do not delay. These entry-level positions at prestigious institutions go quickly. You have no time to waste.”

  Ashley didn’t care what her mother thought—this was not a done deal. “And suppose I don’t want to apply?” Ashley said angrily, surprised to find her emotions overriding her common sense. Because she, better than anyone, knew you did not talk to Margaret Porter this way. Not unless you wanted a serious dose of blunt talk dished right back.

  Margaret covered her eyes with her hand for a long moment. Finally, she drew a deep breath and looked up. “Are you trying to ruin your marriage?”

  Ashley slammed the poker back in the fireplace stand so carelessly the whole thing fell over. Embarrassed, she knelt to pick up the wrought-iron fireplace tools. As she stuffed them back in, two more fell out and clattered to the stone surround. “I fail to see how—”

  Margaret pointed a lecturing finger at her. “Cal Hart did not fall in love with a slacker, Ashley Porter Hart. You persist along these lines and he is not going to love you.”

  Bitterness rose in Ashley’s throat, choking her. “Are we talking about Cal now?” Ashley countered miserably. “Or you and Daddy, Mother?”

  Margaret continued as if Ashley hadn’t even spoken. “In successful marriages, the partners grow together.” She paused to give Ashley a long reproach-filled look. “In unions where one spouse flourishes and the other does not, boredom and resentment inevitably set in, and the marriage falls apart.” Another pause, this one longer and weightier than the last. “Cal is succeeding admirably, Ashley. He’s treating pro sports players and college athletes. And you need to stay on track with your career, too.”

  CAL WAS JUST getting off the phone with the medical center when he heard the front door open and close. Then a car started in the drive.

  He headed downstairs, reaching the foyer just as a shivering Ashley came back inside. He had only to look at her face to know she was upset. “What happened?” he asked warily.

  Ashley shook her head, her eyes moist. She pushed both her hands through her hair. “The usual. She pushed. And then pushed some more. Only this time I didn’t just bend to her wishes.”

  Cal was glad to hear that. He had always felt Margaret and Harold put way too many demands on their only daughter. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, comforting her as best he could. “I’m sorry. Is she coming back tomorrow?”

  “No.” Ashley stalked back to the family room. Her hands trembled as she picked up the coffee cups and dessert plates. “She has a nine o’clock meeting at the university tomorrow, so she is taking the six o’clock flight out of Raleigh in the morning.”

  Noting a fireplace tool had fallen over on its side, Cal righted it and placed it back in the stand. “She could have stayed here overnight.”

  Ashley did her best to avoid Cal’s gaze as she rinsed the dishes and slid them into the dishwasher. “She preferred to be at the hotel at the airport. She felt that would be easier.”

  Cal saw the business card on the coffee table in the family room. He picked it up. His heart sank as he read the writing on the back of it. “Are you going to call this person?” he said, afraid to know, and more afraid not to.

  Ashley shut her eyes and rubbed at her temples as if she had the beginning of a migraine. “I don’t know.”

  Cal thought about the promise he had made, never to stand in the way of Ashley and her dreams. Though it choked him, he forced himself to do the right thing and live up to his word. He drew a deep breath, ensuring his voice was calm, before he replied, “Maybe you should.”

  Slowly, Ashley opened her eyes. She looked even angrier. More resentful. “Is that what you want?” Ashley asked sharply. “For me to hook up with some high-powered headhunter with connections all over the East Coast so I can get some extremely sought-after job?”

  The way she was looking at him then, Cal knew he was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t. So he told the truth. “I want you to be happy, Ashley. Right now you don’t look happy. So—” he struggled against the selfish need welling up inside him as he closed the distance between them “—if that is what it takes…”

  Ashley held up her hands, holding him off. She wheeled away from him and began to pace the length of the two rooms. “I’m just so confused! I’m thirty years old and I feel like half my life is gone and I don’t know how to have fun or relax or do anything but work, work, work! And that used to be okay—probably because I was always too busy even to let myself think. But suddenly, it seems like it’s not enough anymore, not enough to make me happy, anyway.”

  “And you should be happy,” Cal agreed. He caught her wrist as she passed and anchored her implacably at his side.

  Looking more distressed than ever, she flattened her hands against his chest. “But if I don’t strive and pu
sh forward, harder than ever, I’m going to let everyone else down.” Ashley scowled, her frustration with the situation apparent. “My mentor. My mother. My father. Even you.” She stomped away from him, her temper igniting into hot flames of emotion that were glorious to behold.

  “Hey—” Cal arrowed his thumb at his chest “—don’t lump me in with the rest of those clowns. I’m delighted to see you so confused. It makes you as human as the rest of us.”

  Ashley narrowed her china-blue eyes at him and restlessly tapped one foot. “You’d love me no matter what?” she challenged with a withering look.

  Cal nodded emphatically, ignoring the way she had her fists balled and planted on her hips. “I’d love you no matter what.”

  She tossed her mane of glossy dark hair and snorted in a most unladylike fashion. “Liar.”

  Cal blinked, sure he couldn’t have heard right. “What?”

  She stomped closer, her breasts rising and falling with every infuriated breath she took. “Liar,” she repeated, not stopping until they were squared off toe-to-toe and nose-to-nose. She angled her chin up at him, her soft lips taking on a defiant curve. “You cannot possibly feel that way!” she told him stormily. She leveled an accusing finger at his chest. “You have to have some opinion of what you want me to do with my life right now, but you won’t tell me what it is!”

  Cal caught her hand and held it against his chest. “Maybe because which job you take isn’t my decision to make!” he shot back, just as irritably.

  She regarded him with a hauteur as cold as ice. “So you’re just going to let me guess what’s going to make you happy?”

  Cal frowned, his exasperation beginning to get the better of him once again. Reluctantly, he let her go and watched her step back a pace. “I can’t tell you what to do here, Ashley,” he told her wearily. He ran a hand across his jaw and realized that although he had shaved that morning, he needed to shave again.

 

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