Читать книгу A Doctor's Vow - Christine Rimmer - Страница 10

Back in the main house, Ryan reset the alarm that his son had left disengaged. Then he climbed the stairs to his own bedroom, changed into dry pajamas and tried to sleep. But he couldn’t. He felt too edgy. Too…energized, in spite of the fact that he’d only slept for a couple of hours before Ronni and his son had disturbed him.

At a little before five, he threw back the covers and got out of bed. He found another pair of slippers and a second robe and then didn’t know what to do with himself.

He decided to check on his children.

Both of the younger ones were still sound asleep. Lisbeth was wrapped up tight in her blankets, only her button nose peeking out. Griffin had kicked the covers down and then curled himself into a ball against the nighttime chill.

Looking down at him, Ryan thought of Tanner.

Tanner, his younger brother. Tanner used to kick the covers down on winter nights sometimes. Before Tanner was five, they were separated for the first time. But during that initial year and a half after they lost their parents, they’d slept in narrow beds, side by side, in the state home. And when Tanner would kick his covers down, it was easy for Ryan to slide from his own bed and cover him back up again.

Carefully, so as not to wake him, Ryan pulled the covers close around his four-year-old son. Griffin let out a small sigh, his little body relaxing as the blankets banished the cold.

Ryan peeked in on Andrew—correction: Drew—last. He turned the doorknob slowly and pushed the door open with great care. Once he’d slid inside the room, he closed the door without letting the latch hook, to avoid the small click that might have disturbed a light sleeper.

He was halfway across the floor when Drew sat up in bed. “Dad?”

All he could think to whisper was a rebuke. “You should be asleep.”

“Dad, I’m sorry. About what I did.”

Ryan sat on the side of the bed and looked at his son through the predawn darkness. He was thinking that he should spend more time with him, and that he really ought to say something meaningful and profound right now. But all he could think of was “It’s okay—as long as you don’t do it again.”

“I won’t.”

“Well, all right.”

“Ronni wasn’t mad. She’s nice.”

Ryan felt a thoroughly witless smile try to pull at the corners of his mouth. “You like her, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“I like her, too.” A lot.

“Dad?”

“What?”

“You can go back to bed now. Everyone’s safe.”

Ryan still felt as if he should say something. Perhaps about Patricia. About what his son had lost, what they had all lost. The one who tied everything together, the unifying thread.

“Drew, I…” What? I’m sorry your mom is dead.

Sorry I’m not a better father.

Sorry the right words won’t come…

So many damn things to be sorry about.

He stood. “Lie down, now. Go on back to sleep.”

Obediently, Drew stretched out again and pulled his covers up under his chin. Ryan started for the door.

“Dad?”

“What?”

“You talked to Ronni about me, didn’t you? She told you to call me Drew.” Ryan hesitated before answering, long enough that Drew said, “It’s okay with me, Dad. If you talked to her.”

“Yes. I talked to her. Now, go to sleep. Pizza Pete’s tomorrow.”

“With Uncle Tanner?”

“That’s right.”

Ryan’s mother-in-law tapped at the French doors to the guest house the next day at noon.

Ronni looked up from the open box of jeans and heavy sweaters she’d just set on the bed. The curtains were drawn back, letting in the thin gray light of a cloudy—but so far rainless—day. The mother-in-law held up two foil-covered plates, one in each hand. She also had Ronni’s anorak slung over her shoulder. Ronni went and opened the door.

“I didn’t see you leave this morning, so I thought that just maybe, since it’s Sunday, you might be taking the day to unpack.”

Stepping back, Ronni gestured her in and closed the door behind her.

“It looks like you’re making headway,” the woman said.

Ronni cast a glance at the box on the bed. “There’s really not that much to deal with. I put most of my things in storage for the month.”

“Ah. Until your own home is ready…”

“Yes.”

“I’ll bet you’re really looking forward to that.”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” They smiled at each other, rather forced smiles, Ronni thought. She reached for the anorak. “Here. Let me take that.”

“Oh. Certainly.” Ronni slid the weatherproof shell off of the other woman’s shoulder, then turned and tossed it on a chair. That accomplished, she turned back to her guest. “Mrs….”

“It’s Underhill. But please. Call me Lily.”

“And I’m just Ronni.”

“Good enough. Ronni.” The woman hefted the plates again. “I was putting my own lunch together and it occurred to me that maybe you might enjoy a little break yourself.”

“That’s thoughtful of you.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

They smiled at each other some more. Ronni felt a little like an interviewee at that moment. An interviewee for a job that really didn’t exist—which would make Lily the employer. An employer determined to conduct a pleasant interview, no matter that she had no intention of hiring anyone.

Well. Nothing to do but get the interview over with. “Let’s go on into the kitchen.”

“Good idea.”

In the kitchen, at the cute round pine table with its pedestal base, Lily took the foil off the plates, revealing a pair of sandwiches cut in half diagonally. Matching mounds of pasta salad sat neatly between the halves.

“This looks good,” Ronni said.

“It’s roast beef. With just a touch of horseradish sauce. I hope you’re not a vegetarian.”

“No. Roast beef is great.”

“And horseradish?”

“I love horseradish.”

“Well, then, this should work out fine.”

They used paper towels for napkins. Ronni apologized. “I’m afraid I haven’t had a chance to get to the store yet.”

“Oh, I know you must be busy. A doctor’s schedule is just killing, isn’t it?”

“It could be worse. I do have my Sundays, now I’m in private practice. And today, I’m not even on call. How about coffee? I have that.”

“Just a glass of ice water.”

“Water, I’ve got.”

“And forks, for the pasta salad?”

“No problem. All the kitchen things were here when I got here.”

Lily sighed. “This little house. Always ready for visitors.” She went to a drawer and took out the flatware they needed.

They sat down and started to eat. The sandwich was good, the beef thin-sliced and tender. Ronni told Lily so.

Lily waved a hand. “Oh, it’s just a sandwich. But I must confess, I do love to cook. Patricia…that was my daughter, Ryan’s wife?” Ronni did not miss the slight emphasis on the word wife. “Patricia loved to cook, too.” Lily chuckled. “And she was much more self-disciplined than I am when it came to sampling what she cooked. I’m a size twelve now, myself. Have been for years and years. But my daughter…aside from her pregnancies, never in her life did she go above a size eight.” Lily’s eyes changed, lost their brightness. “And then, at the end, she was so thin.” Lily blinked and spoke flatly. “She died two years ago. Cancer, in case you hadn’t heard. It’s been…such a challenge, without her. For the children. For Ryan. For all of us.”

The usual condolences rose to Ronni’s lips. She held them back. It seemed the wrong moment for a kind cliché.

“You never met my daughter, did you?” It was almost an accusation.

“No. I did my residency up in Washington. And only moved here two and a half years ago. This is my first practice, with Marty, and with Randall Sheppard.”

Lily swept a hand out, indicating the whole of the cheerful, pretty room. “Patricia did all of this. Country French, she called it. She wanted the guest house to be cozy and casual. Blue-checked curtains for the kitchen. Blue willow plates on the plate rails.” Lily looked up at the rows of blue-and-white china plates that lined the narrow shelves above the cabinets. “And she did the main house, too. All of it. She chose everything, all by herself. She had a real sense for what makes a home an inviting place.”

“Yes,” Ronni said, for lack of something better. “The main house is quite beautiful.”

“But comfortable, too,” Lily said sharply. “A place where a family actually lives.” Lily’s eyes looked suspiciously moist.

Though the older woman’s mission here was painfully clear, Ronni couldn’t help but feel compassion for her. “You must miss her terribly.”

Lily drew in a long breath and smoothed the paper towel in her lap. “I…raised her alone, for the most part. Her father died when she was only two.”

“It sounds as if you did an excellent job. Of raising her, I mean.”

“I did my best. We were so close. I wanted so much for her. And she…lived all my dreams for her. For a while, at least, for as long as…she was with us. She was twenty-three when she married Ryan. Oh, you should have seen them on their wedding day. Patricia so fair, slender and tall. And Ryan beside her, dark and handsome, and proud. I knew from the first the kind of husband he would be. True and responsible. A good provider. Everything a woman could want.” She smiled then and leaned toward Ronni. “Good enough even for my precious daughter, if you know what I mean.”

Ronni’s smile didn’t feel forced at all this time. “I do.”

Lily pulled back. She seemed to draw into herself. “Listen to me. Rambling on. You’re—” a flash of bewilderment clouded her eyes “—a very easy person to talk to….”

For a few minutes, they were silent, each concentrating carefully on her meal.

Then Lily spoke again. “Ryan told me that you feel we shouldn’t be too concerned…about Andrew.”

“That’s true. I think your grandson is a great guy. And I really don’t believe he’ll be dropping in on me in the middle of the night again. But just in case, I did put that key away—the one he used to let himself in?”

“Good.” Lily sipped her ice water. “Andrew is a fine boy. A lot like his father, did you notice? So responsible—” she let out a small, self-conscious laugh “—most of the time, anyway.” She picked up her fork, then set it down without using it. “The truth is, Ryan’s the one I worry about. He works such long hours. But then you know how that is, don’t you? I imagine your schedule is pretty grueling, too….”

Oh, Lily, Ronni thought. I get the message. And I know that you’re right. Ryan and I are both way too busy to let anything get started between us.

Lily continued, “He hardly has time for the children at all.” Her smile was indulgent. “But he does try. He’s spending the afternoon with them today, as a matter of fact. It’s a family event. Ryan and the children—and Ryan’s brother, Tanner. They always go to Pizza Pete’s one Sunday a month.”

Ronni had heard of Pizza Pete’s. More than one of her small patients had raved about it. Besides the pizza its name promised, Pizza Pete’s provided carnival games, a video arcade and a number of other tempting amusements.

“Sounds like fun,” Ronni said. Then she heard herself offering, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a cup of coffee, after all?”

“Oh, I shouldn’t. I know you want to get back to your unpacking….” Lily looked just a bit lost. And a little lonely, too.

Knowing she’d probably regret it, Ronni insisted, “Come on. Just one.”

“Well, all right. It is so nice to have another woman to talk to, for a change.”

Lily stayed for another half an hour, during which time she talked a lot more about Patricia, about what a darling child she’d been, and what a beautiful adolescent. About how she’d worked in an insurance office to help out while Ryan was getting his start.

“But then, of course, as soon as Ryan was on his feet financially, Patricia stayed home. She was just old-fashioned that way. She believed that being a wife and mother was a full-time job in itself, that her children needed her, every day, all day. That making a gracious home and providing tasty, nutritious meals for her family were very important, meaningful ways to spend her time.

“And she was such a tremendous benefit to Ryan in his work. They entertained a lot, especially in that last year or two before she became so ill, when he had become chief administrator at Memorial and he had a certain image to maintain. There were a number of important people he needed to get to know socially, in order to help raise the money for the new wing…you’ve heard about the new wing?”

Ronni made a noise in the affirmative.

Lily chattered on. “And did you know that Ryan’s brother, Tanner, is the general contractor for the entire project? We’re very proud of Tanner. He’s done so well for himself with his construction company. And the wing is moving right along. Maybe you haven’t had a chance to see it. I imagine your patients go to Children’s Hospital?”

Ronni nodded. “But I do drive by Memorial now and then. And every once in a while, I even drop in.”

“Drop in?”

“To do postnatal checkups of new patients. It looks very impressive—the new wing.”

“Yes. The work on the interior is just getting under way now. One hundred million dollars, it’s taking. From the Pembroke Fund. That was Ryan’s doing, of course, the funding. He was a Pembroke scholar in college, and that connection was helpful. And he did play a lot of racquetball with Axel Pembroke, the president of the Pembroke Foundation—still does play racquetball with him, as a matter of fact. Have you ever met Axel Pembroke? What a strange little man.” Lily shrugged. “But the one who controls the purse strings, the one who had to be dealt with. And Ryan did deal with him, and so effectively, too.

“And Patricia did her part, you can be certain. Such lovely dinner parties she gave, preparing everything herself, from the perfect food to the arrangement of the flowers. She just wouldn’t hire a caterer. But that was understandable. No one could put a party together the way Patricia could. And then, when everything was ready, she’d sweep her beautiful blond hair up into a simple twist, put on a little black dress and look as if she’d never lifted a finger to put the whole thing together. What a hostess she was. I actually believe Mr. Pembroke had something of a crush on her….”

When Lily finally ducked out the back door with her two empty plates and a jaunty last wave, Ronni was only too glad to see her go.

I can see it all now, she thought, as she pulled jeans and sweaters from the box on her bed. Every time I wave at Ryan in the driveway, Lily will come flying over armed with a pair of foil-covered lunches and an endless stream of stories about the irreplaceable Patricia, loving wife, doting mother and hostess extraordinaire.

Not that Ronni had any intention of trying to supplant such a paragon. No. Ronni had very distinct plans for her life.

Those plans did include a man, of course.

But not for a while yet. Not for a year or two, at least.

Right now, all her attention had to be strictly focused on establishing herself in her practice—and on her condo, her own home at last, to which she would be moving by the end of the month.

Lily could have saved that roast beef sandwich. Ronni wasn’t after Ryan Malone. Yes, he was attractive. Incredibly so. And it had been disconcertingly easy to stay up talking with him all night.

But it wasn’t going to go anywhere. The timing just wasn’t right.

“You’re looking way too serious today, big brother,” Tanner said. They were sitting at one of the picnic-style tables at Pizza Pete’s. Across the crowded room, Griffin and Lisbeth jumped around in a netted pit full of plastic balls as Andrew stood a few feet away, watching them.

Ryan grunted. “Just thinking. About Andrew—I mean, Drew. I’ve been instructed that it’s Drew from now on.”

“Instructed. By who?” With his left hand, Tanner picked up his jumbo-size plastic cup of Dr. Pepper.

Ryan watched his brother knock back a big gulp and then set the cup down. Tanner had the body of a linebacker, while Ryan was leaner and taller by a couple of inches. But they were both southpaws. And they both had the same blue eyes. Malone-blue, people who knew both brothers were always saying. Drew had the Malone eyes, too—and he was left-handed, as well.

“Something about my hand?” Tanner asked.

“What? No.”

“They call you the miracle man,” Tanner razzed. “You can charm dollar bills out of the trees. Real big on social skills, that’s what they say about you. But look at you now. Staring. Oblivious.”

“I said I’m just thinking.”

“Right. Come on. Who’s giving instructions to call Andrew Drew?”

Ryan drank, then set down his glass. “Drew himself. Several times, apparently. But I didn’t listen.”

“I can see we’re headed on a long trip here.”

“Trip?”

“Yeah. A guilt trip.”

“Very funny.”

“So what’s going on?”

Ryan glanced over at his children. The two younger ones were still rolling around in the ball pit and Drew remained on guard. It looked likely that Ryan and Tanner would have a few more minutes undisturbed.

“Did I tell you that there’s a woman staying in the guest house?”

Tanner leaned on the table and raised both eyebrows. “You’ve got my full attention. Go on.”

Ryan told him what had happened last night—a slightly edited version. He didn’t mention the part about how he and Ronni had sat in his study for two full hours talking about nothing in particular, or how he’d walked her back to the little house and then stood there in the driving rain staring at her closed door after she’d gone inside. “So I guess I’m a little worried about Drew,” he concluded. “That he’s…taking too much on himself, that he thinks he has to—”

Tanner didn’t let him finish. “Wait a minute.”

“What?”

“Give yourself a break here. The way it looks to me, his only problem is he’s just like his dad. He wants to take care of his family. There are a lot worse things in this world than that.”

“Well, I know, but—”

“What I want to know more about is the kindhearted, good-looking pediatrician with the red hair.”

Ryan tried not to wince. “Did I say she was a redhead?”

“Yep.”

Ryan shifted on the picnic bench. Pizza Pete ought to think about getting some cushions for the damn things. “There’s nothing more to tell. I liked her. She was very…understanding about the whole episode.”

Tanner wasn’t fooled. “Right. Understanding.”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“You’re interested.”

“All right. Maybe I am. But where can it go? I work a sixty-hour week, and I’m always thinking I should spend more time with the kids.”

“It doesn’t have to go anywhere. You ask her out, that’s all. If you have a good time, you ask her out again.”

“Right, but—”

“I’ve got it. The Heart Ball.” The Heart Ball was a major annual fund-raiser put on by the Friends of Memorial. “It’s two weeks away. Have you got a date?”

“No, but—”

“You are going, aren’t you?”

“Of course.” He was on the agenda, as a matter of fact, to give a little look-how-far-we’ve-come speech about the new wing.

“So ask her,” Tanner said. “Do it today. I want a commitment, and I want one before our family-size pepperoni pizza arrives.”

Ryan decided he’d better make a joke of this. “Commitment? That’s an interesting word, coming from you.”

Tanner’s eyes went dark as the middle of the night. And Ryan felt like a jerk. Tanner had always played the field. And Ryan had always ribbed him about it, just as Tanner always gave him a hard time for being a one-woman man.

But commitment jokes were in bad taste these days. Tanner had a big problem concerning the issue of commitment. He was dealing with it as best he could, but the whole situation had him tied in knots.

“Tanner, I—”

Tanner shook his head. “Don’t apologize. Sometimes, the truth hurts. That doesn’t mean you can’t tell it.” He drummed up his best give-’em-hell grin. “Besides, I know your tricks. And they’re not gonna work this time. We’re talking about you right now. You and a cute little redheaded M.D. And that date you really do need for the Heart Ball.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t think, act.”

“Tanner. I’ll think about it.”

“Well then, think fast. Here comes our pizza. And don’t look now, but three hungry kids are headed this way.”

Ryan did think about it. For the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. He thought about how he had no business getting involved with anyone right now. He thought about how, if he did get involved with someone, she ought to be like Patricia, a woman ready, willing and eager to do big-time duty on the home front.

And he thought how he’d met a number of women in the past year or so who would have been happy to try to fill Patricia’s shoes, lovely, graceful women who had good educations and undemanding careers. Women who would have done their best to mother his children and take care of him, too.

He’d had zero interest in the subtle overtures of those women.

He also thought about what Tanner had said.

It doesn’t have to go anywhere. You ask her out. If you have a good time, you ask her out again….

That night, once the kids were finally settled into bed and Lily had retired to her room, Ryan let himself out the back door, sprinted down the driveway and around to the front porch of the little house.