Winning the Doc's Heart

by Jennifer Youngblood

  Kyle looked at P. J. and his mom. “Are y’all ready?”

  “Yep,” P. J. answered as she and Marigold stood. Kyle helped P. J. put on the cardigan. He placed his hand on the small of P. J.’s back, navigating her through the restaurant with Marigold following behind. When they reached the hostess desk, Andi said goodbye and gave all three of them hugs. This time, Andi seemed more at ease.

  “I hope you’ll come back to see us,” Andi said to P. J.

  Kyle slipped a protective arm around P. J., pulling her close. “Oh, she will. I have no intention letting this one out of my sight,” he said, locking eyes with P. J.

  15

  Marigold was old-fashioned. She still had a telephone phone hanging on the kitchen wall and another on an end table in the living room. They rang simultaneously at eight-thirty the next morning. Marigold was already up banging pots and pans in the kitchen when she answered the call. "Well good morning, Coralee. How is your houseguest doing? Mmm hmm. Mine too. I let him sleep in."

  Kyle lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. After getting back from The Magnolia, he and P. J. had gone into the backyard and stretched out a blanket where they gazed at the stars and talked for over an hour. Afterward, Kyle took P. J. over to the Foster’s house where she was spending the night. It was good that he and P. J. had a chance to talk. After the fiasco with Andi, Kyle wanted to make sure P. J. knew how he felt about her. He shouldn’t have clammed up when he saw Andi. If only he were quicker on his feet in situations like that. He would always love Annie, but he loved P. J. too. He blinked. He loved P. J. He rolled that thought through his head a few times, grinning.

  His grin was soon replaced with a frown as he thought about the hospital’s no-dating policy. Last night, Kyle opened up a conversation about the medical school board’s ethics rules, questioning if P. J.’s career would be okay. But P. J. brushed it aside, assuring him that everything would be fine. Kyle hoped she was right, but he kept getting a nagging feeling that they weren’t out of the woods yet. P. J. was born to be a doctor. Like her dad said, it was her life calling. Kyle couldn’t live with himself if he were to do anything to hurt P. J.

  His mother’s voice commanded his attention. The house was small with thin walls. That, combined with the fact that Coralee Foster was more than half deaf, so his mom had to talk loud, let him in on the conversation.

  "Well, what do you think of P. J.? Really? Yep, I feel the same way. This one’s a keeper. I'd have expected a surgeon, especially an ultra-specialized one like her, would be all up on a high horse over herself, but this gal isn't, is she? And what’s Douglas' opinion? Because you know, if anybody's not gonna like a newcomer it’s him. He didn't wait up to meet her last night? Well, I guess that's not too surprising. He's not much of a night owl.… How soon will she be ready? Why don't y’all come over for French toast? Okay … half an hour. See you then. Bye."

  Marigold hung up the phone and then banged on the wall, making him jump out of bed. "Kyle! Get up! P. J. and the Fosters will be here in half an hour. Get yourself ready!"

  He rummaged through his suitcase and found clean clothes, then ran down the short hall to the shower.

  Breakfast was a spectacle. Douglas Foster, the town curmudgeon, had married Coralee Breeland after they were both widowed. Next door neighbors, they were each living alone and started spending time together. Still, no one in town had expected them to fall in love. Coralee was sweet, charming, and grandmotherly. Douglas was crusty and opinionated. The marriage had changed him in good ways. This morning he didn't sit down at the table until he made sure Coralee was comfortable in her chair first. She doted on him, fixing his collar, tucking his napkin under his chin, even pouring syrup over his French Toast.

  P. J. glanced sideways at Kyle, smiling an expression that said, Aren't they a cute couple? He smiled back.

  "Priscilla, what time do you have to go back up to Birmingham?" Coralee asked.

  "I should be on my way before it gets too late tonight. Tomorrow will be the kids' program at church, and I don't want to miss that."

  "No, you certainly don't,” Coralee said. “Douglas, do you remember the time Scarlett and Rigby were in the kids' program, and, well, you tell it."

  A smile crossed Douglas' face. "Rigby is Coralee's grandson. Scarlett is my granddaughter. They got married a couple of years before we did.”

  P. J.’s eyes rounded. “So, your grandkids married each other?”

  “Yep,” Coralee grinned. “Sure did.” She patted Douglas’s arm. “Tell them the story.”

  He sat back in his seat, looking thoughtful. “Rigby was about nine or so and Scarlett had just barely turned eight—"

  "Rigby was almost ten," Coralee corrected.

  He waved a hand. “That’s right.” He chuckled. “Rigby was a bit of a bully to all the kids. I think he liked Scarlett, but he had a weird way of showing it. Anyway, he was a big kid. So, he stood on the back row of the risers during the children’s program. Scarlett was right in front of him. She had these long braids, and he kept pulling 'em and pulling 'em. She turned around a couple of times and told him to quit, but he just kept on. So, she started ignoring him, but then he placed them both on top of her head and tied them in a bow."

  P. J. snorted and laughed so hard she had to take her napkin and wipe milk off the tip of her nose. “He sounds like a character.”

  Coralee’s eyes twinkled. "Oh, that wasn't the best part. Go on, Douglas."

  "Scarlett, cute, sweet, harmless, innocent little Scarlett, spun around and landed a right uppercut straight into Rigby's jaw. His feet left the floor, she hit him so hard. The congregation loved it. A few people nearly broke out in applause."

  "I didn't," muttered Coralee.

  "Well, did he learn his lesson?" P. J. asked.

  "Not hardly," Coralee smirked. "Three days later I was called to the office at school because he’d sawed his teacher's chair leg in half. Old Mr. Braselton sat down in it and went over sideways hard enough it broke his glasses."

  P. J. shook her head. "He sounds like a hoot."

  "Rigby Breeland was the kid all us younger boys wanted to grow up and become," Kyle said.

  "How did he turn out?" P. J. asked.

  Douglas leaned back in his chair. "Years later, he up and married that little girl he'd been so mean to, and now they're over in Atlanta living happily ever after."

  P. J. smiled. "What a sweet story."

  "And the P. S. is that we found each other too," Coralee added, giving Douglas a doting look. "Of course, in a town this size, noticing someone isn't such a huge accomplishment as when two people find each other in a big city like Birmingham." She looked down at her plate as she said it, but everyone knew exactly what she was getting at.

  A look passed between Kyle and P. J. She flashed him a smile so dazzling that it nearly took his breath away. Kyle felt like the luckiest man on earth to have P. J. in his life.

  16

  It had been two weeks since P. J. left to go back to Birmingham, and Kyle was growing restless. He’d fixed a loose railing on the back deck, put new hinges on the shed doors, balanced his mother’s ceiling fans so they didn’t sway back and forth, and changed every light fixture and lamp in the house from incandescent bulbs to LEDs. He was running out of things to do.

  “You know Mom, it’s so strange coming back to Clementine after being gone for ten years. Most of my friends have grown up and moved away, like I did, and the ones who’re still here are married and have busy lives of their own. I feel out of place, but that’s okay. I’m fine just to hang out with my best girl.”

  “You’re a terrible liar,” his mom said. “I can see right through you. Why don’t you drive up to Birmingham tomorrow and spend the day with Priscilla?”

  He liked how classy Priscilla sounded coming out of his mother’s mouth.

  “I couldn’t do that. Who’d take care of you?”

  Marigold pulled herself straight erect. “Young man, I’ll have you know, I’m perfectly c
apable of taking care of myself. In fact, I could still put you across my knee and give you a proper whooping if you needed it.”

  Kyle hooted. He was a full foot taller than she was and outweighed her by at least sixty pounds, but they both knew that if she got angry enough to try it, she would absolutely win.

  “Good, it’s all settled. I’ll call Priscilla and tell her you’re coming.”

  “You don’t need to do that, Mom.” A grin slid over his lips. “I’m a big boy. I can handle it.” Kyle took the phone out of her hand and put it back into its cradle. He bent down and kissed her forehead. “Thank you.” With that, he trotted down the hall to his bedroom to get some work done. Suddenly, he didn’t feel quite as restless as he had before.

  It was the day before Easter. In years gone by, P. J. would have been contentedly dying eggs at the kitchen table in different pastel colors. This year, she’d done her Saturday rounds, but other than that, the day felt flat and boring.

  While her mother scurried around the living room straightening, P. J. sat and stared out the window. “What’s wrong, honey?” her mother asked.

  P. J. turned around and look at her mom. “Nothing. I guess I just had to get up too early to do my rounds at the hospital this morning. I’m kind of tired. I think I’ll go take a nap.”

  Pearl walked around P. J. and stood in front of her with a knowing smile. “That’s not what’s wrong.”

  P. J. scrunched her brows. “What’re you talking about?”

  “When have you ever been so mopey at Easter time?” A grin quivered on her lips. “Do you miss running around the yard looking for eggs like when you were little? Do you want to break out the food coloring and color some eggs?”

  She pushed out a heavy sigh. “No, I’m good.”

  “We can always dig into the chocolate Easter bunny.”

  P. J. ran her hands seductively down her torso. “Do you really think this body needs chocolate?”

  “Oh, don’t be silly. Everybody needs more chocolate.” Pearl paused and sat down on the couch next to P. J. in that time-for-a-mother-daughter-chat kind of pose. “I know what’s really going on.”

  “What?”

  “You’re missing Kyle. It’s obvious. You haven’t seen him in, what, two weeks now?”

  The mention of his name made P. J.’s heart flip-flop. She felt like someone was wringing it out like a dish cloth. Her eyes misted. “Yes,” she whispered. It was crazy how much she was missing Kyle. It had only been two weeks and yet, it felt like the time had gone by so painfully slow.

  “Then I guess it’s a good thing he’s on his way here.”

  P. J. snapped upright. “What? How do you know that?”

  Pearl laughed. “Kyle called while you were in the shower. I heard your phone ringing and answered it.”

  “He called? Why didn’t you tell me?” P. J. made a mental note to check her phone more often. She looked down at her faded jeans and sweatshirt. Then her hand went to her hair. She’d let it air-dry. She should probably do a little something to it and touch up her makeup.

  She jumped off the couch and ran up the stairs to her room. P. J. had a townhouse, but she often stayed here with her parents, so they kept her old room open for her. P. J’s colleagues and a few of the nurses often teased her about spending so much time with her parents, but P. J. enjoyed the company. Forty-five minutes later, she was at the living room window, watching the street. When Kyle’s familiar car stopped at the curb, her pulse started thrumming as she darted to the back of the house. “Mom, can you get the door?”

  “Of course,” her Pearl chuckled. “We wouldn’t want you to look too eager to see him,” she said, her astute eyes flicking over P. J.

  Regally, her mother went to the door when the bell rang. “Why Kyle, what a nice surprise,” she cooed. “Did the Easter bunny drop you off?”

  He chuckled. “No. I’m afraid I missed him this year and had to drive myself. Is P. J. home from the hospital yet?”

  “Sure is. She got up at six and started her rounds. Come on in. I’ll call her for you.”

  P. J. couldn’t hold herself back any longer. She came around the corner. “Kyle!” she exclaimed, feigning surprise. “What are you doing here?” She couldn’t stop the large smile from filling her face as she bounded into his arms. His fresh, masculine scent wafted over her. Oh, how she loved being in his strong arms.

  “I brought you this. Happy Easter.” A boyish grin tipped his lips as he held out a flat red box, the size of a textbook, wrapped in gold ribbon.

  Her breath hitched. “Thank you. Should I open it?”

  Her mother interrupted. “Well, it is Easter, and this is an Easter gift.”

  P. J. went to the couch. Kyle sat down beside her. She pulled the ribbon and lifted the lid off the box with a gasp. “Where did you find this?” She held out the box to her mom who’d sat down in a wingback chair across from them. “Look, Mom. It’s an antique book,” P. J. explained when she saw her mother’s dubious expression. P. J. turned to Kyle. “Is it okay to pick up?”

  “Sure, it’s yours.”

  P. J. traced a finger over the title, embossed in faded gold leafing. “‘The Anatomy of Humane Bodies, With Figures Drawn After The Life,’ by William Cowper,” she read aloud. “How fun! How old is it?”

  “It was published in 1737. It’s an original edition. And look here.” Kyle gingerly opened the front cover. There in unmistakable classical script, William Cowper had signed his name.

  Hoyt Bandy strode into the room. “The least you could’ve done was get her something new,” he grumbled with a wicked grin as he sat down in the chair beside Pearl.

  “Oh, you,” Pearl said as she punched his arm.

  P. J.’s eyes went misty. “This was so unique, so thoughtful. Where did you get it?”

  “An antique book dealer online.” He grinned. “I figured the surgeon could use some instruction.”

  “I love it!” P. J. felt a burst of emotion as she looked at this wonderful, amazing man who was fast becoming her world. The day had been so bland and gloomy before, now, it felt like everything was washed in glorious color.

  “Good to see you, Kyle,” Hoyt said as he rose out of his chair and pumped Kyle’s hand in a hearty shake.

  “Good to see you too,” Kyle said.

  Pearl jumped up. “I’ll be right back,” she said. A few seconds later, she returned carrying a plate of pastel-colored Easter cookies. They talked and laughed for an hour.

  When the conversation started to lag, Kyle said, “I heard the indoor ice rink at Pellham is open this afternoon. Wanna go?”

  Anticipation surged through P. J.’s veins. “Sure. Oh wait, I’m on call. I have to be able to answer the phone.”

  “Sounds good. You can be that annoying lady who stops the whole skating rink so she can answer her phone. Mr. and Mrs. Bandy, would y’all like to come?”

  “We’ll pass today,” Hoyt said, “these old bones are a bit too brittle for ice skating. You kids go have fun.”

  P. J. practically floated to Kyle’s car. Then, she started thinking about what they were about to do. She turned to him. “I haven’t gone ice skating in close to twenty years. This could be ugly.”

  His gaze moved over her slowly and thoroughly, causing her blood to run faster. “I don’t think anything you could do would be ugly,” he murmured.

  Had they not been sitting directly in front of her parent’s house, P. J. would have thrown her arms around him and given him a long, sound kiss. “Thank you,” she uttered, her lashes sweeping against her cheeks as she smiled.

  It was a short drive to the skate center. Kyle rented P. J. some graceful white skates and brown ones for himself. They held hands as P. J. stumbled toward the gate through the boards and onto the ice. “Kyle?” she said nervously.

  He moved close and encircled her waist with his arm. “Put your right foot back and push off,” he said. She did as he instructed, and her right skate crashed into his left one. Her feet flew out
behind her, but Kyle held her up. “There you go.” He set her on her feet again.

  “My ankles are so wobbly,” she protested.

  “No problem. That’s why the skate shoes come up so high on your ankles.” He came around in front of her, skating backwards. “Give me your hands.” He pulled her around the end of the rink and onto the straightaway. “Not too hard, right?”

  “No,” she answered tremulously, her stomach flopping like a fish on dry land. A few minutes later, she felt a little better about the situation. A proud smile curved her lips. “I’m starting to get the hang of it.” She pushed out a self-deprecating chuckle. “On the other hand, it’s pretty easy when someone’s pulling you and you don’t have to move your feet.”

  “How about this?” He released her hands.

  P. J. shrieked. As she started to fall forward, Kyle caught her again. He put his hands under her arms and pulled her to him. She looked up into his deep milk chocolate eyes. “You won’t let me fall, right?” she asked.

  “That’s right,” he said with such certainty that it wrapped warmth around her. Her gaze traced the strong, lean lines of his jaw before moving up to his firm lips, perfect for kissing. Time got deliciously slow as her breath came faster.

  They were interrupted by a gang of teens who zoomed past. “We’re supposed to be skating here. Get a room!” a boy shouted. Someone gave a wolf whistle.

  Kyle and P. J. laughed, moving a respectable distance apart. Kyle held her hand and side-by-side, they skated laps around the rink. An hour later, they were worn out.

  “I’m about done. Shall we go home?” P. J. asked.

  “You got it. I’m proud of you. You didn’t fall once.”

  “Only because you never left my side.” They unlaced their skates and put their shoes on.

  He delivered her back to her parents’ house. As they stood on the porch, she looked at him hopefully. “Are you staying in Birmingham tonight?”

  With a forlorn expression he shook his head. “Mom expects me and my siblings to be in church together tomorrow.”