Читать книгу Found: A Mother for His Son - Dianne Drake, Dianne Drake - Страница 6

WELL, it wasn’t a grand welcome, yet here she was, five hours after arrival, making plans. Real plans. New curtains, a coat of yellow paint in the kitchen to brighten it up, a nice floor lamp and an overstuffed chair. Just like she had a right to make plans here. But she couldn’t help it. For once, she so wanted something to work out, wanted her roots to plant themselves deep enough to keep her here for a while.

For someone who’d promised herself no expectations, she sure had developed her fair share awfully quickly. It was a worry, but right now she didn’t want to think about it. She had throw rugs on her mind, and pictures for the walls. Nice things she didn’t usually allow herself.

Because she was tired. That’s what she was telling herself. She was a little out of kilter because she was tired. She’d had a long trip getting here, lots of jitters over her decision, and even more jitters over seeing Dermott again. Put them all together and they resulted in silly thoughts. Tomorrow she’d be rested, and thinking straight again. Yes, her resolve would be back where it should be, and her life would get back on the track she’d designated.

At least, that’s what she was telling herself now. In the meantime, she was undecided about what clothes to unpack for the night, and what to leave alone. Staring into her open suitcases, Jenna was on the verge of simply shutting the lids and letting it all go until tomorrow when a buzzer from the first floor sounded. One buzz, then a couple more frantic buzzes coming from the clinic door. An emergency? The clinic had been empty all afternoon, but now somebody was in need, when Dermott wasn’t here?

Dashing down the rest of the stairs, Jenna ran straight to the door, then opened it, to be greeted by a big man with a small, bloody towel wrapped around his arm. “Saw Doc and Max having ice cream downtown, and didn’t want to bother them. But I heard he had a new nurse working here, so I figured I could let you have a look at this.” With that, he held out his arm, but didn’t remove the bloody towel.

“I can call Dermott. He gave me his cellphone number, and—”

“No, ma’am. That won’t be necessary. It’s just a little scratch, and it would be a shame to interrupt his time with the boy just to take care of it. You are the new nurse, aren’t you?”

Jenna nodded. The new nurse who was a little perplexed by this.

“Then it’s you I’m here to see.” That said, and quite emphatically, he stepped all the way inside and shut the front door behind him. “No sense in driving all the way over to Muledeer for the doc over there to take care of this when you can do it. It’s a good two hours away, and I’d just as soon get this patched up here and get on home and go to bed.”

Muledeer? Why would he drive all the way there when Dermott was right here? That made no sense at all. “What happened to you arm, Mr….?”

“Wilkerson. Isaiah Wilkerson. And I’d extend a hand to greet you, ma’am, but I put my shaking hand through a plateglass window about fifteen minutes ago. Tripped myself going up a ladder to hang a picture, and used the window to break my fall.” He finally unwrapped the towel, showing Jenna what turned out to be a pretty nasty gash. One that would need stitches, and maybe a whole lot more, depending on the extent of any tissue damage he’d caused himself.

“Are you light-headed, feeling nauseated, woozy, Mr. Wilkerson?”

“Only when I look at the blood, ma’am.” He did look down at his arm, then turned his head away.

“Are you here by yourself? Or did someone else drive you?”

“By myself. My wife’s off visiting her sister tonight, and instead of bothering her to come bring me here, I drove myself. I am feeling a little tired, though. It’s…coming on me right now. A…groggy…feeling…”

So was the deathly pallor washing down over his face. His speech was slowing and slurring, too, and Jenna knew this great hulk of a man was about to go out on her. “Look, let’s get you to the exam room, where you can lie down.” She hadn’t even seen the exam rooms yet. “After that we’ll figure out what needs to be done.”

“Appreciate that, ma’am.” He sighed heavily, struggling to keep himself upright.

“Jenna,” she said, grasping him tightly around the waist as his knees started to dip. “Any man I have to carry like this gets to call me by my first name.”

“Jenna,” he said, straining to stay upright now. “Pretty name. Got a daughter…name’s Jennifer. Is Jenna short for…?”

The interminably long trip down the hall to the exam rooms ended at the first room, where Jenna pushed open the door with her foot and was thankful to see an exam table not more than five steps ahead of her. Mr. Wilkerson had turned into deadweight, and while Jenna was up to hefting a pretty large man, Isaiah Wilkerson was larger than the average, and every bit of him was rock-hard muscle. “It’s Jenna. Jenna Joann Lawson.”

“Pleased to…make…your acquaintance, Jenna,” Isaiah grunted as he dropped down onto the hard surface of the exam table and immediately plopped down onto his back.

Jenna sprang around the table to crank up the head, then she turned on the overhead light. “Look, I really need to call the doctor,” she told him as she scurried to assess the various medical supplies in the room. It was a nice, tidy little exam room. The equipment was outdated, but still very functional, and it put her in the mind of something from the 1960s. It probably was, come to think of it. Dermott had, most likely, acquired the practice, as well as the equipment, from its original owner. Wooden exam table, not chrome or steel. Wooden cabinet. Old-fashioned sink. Overall, it had a nice, homey feel to it, and she liked it.

“No doctor! Like I told you before, I don’t want…to interrupt him when he’s out with the boy. They need…their time together,” Isaiah said, his voice growing weaker. “If you think I need a doctor…all that bad, I’ll drive myself…over to Muledeer.”

Now, that was just plain crazy. “You won’t make it to Muledeer,” she said, laying a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder as he tried to sit up. “You won’t even make it to the front door.”

“I’m the patient here. Don’t I have…some rights? Some say…in who treats me?” His voice finally trailed off to a whisper and Jenna took his pulse to make sure nothing besides the obvious was going on. It was strong. His respirations were good, too. A little shallow, but not alarmingly so.

And, yes, he did have a say in who treated him. But in his current condition, in a one-doctor town, those rights didn’t mean much. “Look, Isaiah, the first thing I need you to do is trust me. OK? You’ve lost a lot of blood and I don’t want you passing out, but that’s what’s going to happen if you don’t take it easy. So lie back, close your eyes, concentrate on breathing, and I’ll take a good look at your cut. If I can treat it, I will. But if it requires a doctor…”

“Do your…best…Don’t interrupt…”

“I know. Don’t interrupt Dr. Callahan.” Stubborn, stubborn man. Well, she’d just have to be more stubborn than he was. “Like I said, trust me, Isaiah.” She completely removed the towel from his arm. “I’ve been a nurse for quite a while now, and I know what I’m doing.”

She also knew his cut was so deep that it required stitches. Which she could do, but wouldn’t. It wasn’t her place since the doctor was only a few blocks away. “Isaiah, I want you to rest here for a few minutes, will you? Since I’m new, I don’t know where the supplies are, and I’ve got to go on a little hunt for a few items. You’re not bleeding right now, so I want you to stay still. And relax.” He needed a sedative, and a painkiller, which she couldn’t prescribe, so that gave her even more cause to call Dermott. Even if it was against her patient’s will.

“I’m not going to lose my arm, or anything like that, am I?” he choked out.

“Good heavens, no. You’re going to get some stitches, but that’s about the worst of it.” As a precaution, before she left the room, Jenna took his blood pressure, and wasn’t surprised that it was low, but not critically. With all his bleeding, hypotension was bound to happen. “Just rest. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said, then ducked out of the exam room.

One her way to find a supply closet, she dialed Dermott’s phone. It rang twice, and when he picked up, rather than saying hello, he led off with, “Care to join us for ice cream? Wasn’t peppermint your favorite flavor?”

He remembered that? Had he ever even seen her eat ice cream?

“Dermott, I’m with Isaiah Wilkerson. He put his hand through a window, and he doesn’t want me calling you.”

Dermott cleared his throat. “How bad is it?”

“Not critical, but pretty bad. He has a four-inch gash in his right forearm, about three inches above his wrist, that will need stitches. And he’s threatening to go to a doctor in Muledeer if I call you in to take care of him. I mean, he really doesn’t want you.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, but don’t tell him I’m coming because he absolutely will walk out if there’s any way he can do it. And in the meantime, go ahead and stick in an IV for me. He probably needs his fluid volume pumped up some. Use Ringer’s for now, since he’s been bleeding, and add about 5 of Valium to relax him…and keep him down on the table. IV bags are in the gray supply cabinet, top shelf. The Valium is in the locked medicine cabinet in my office. The key is in my office wall safe, and the combination is…” He paused for a moment, then went on, “Eleven-fourteen. And if you have time, get him cleaned up and prepped for me. Isaiah’s a big complainer, by the way.” He chuckled. “Nice man, but squeamish when it comes to doctors.”

Eleven-fourteen. That was her birthday. November fourteenth. Maybe he’d known about her ice cream preferences, but surely this was a coincidence. Dermott couldn’t have known when her birthday was. Could he? She thought about it for a moment, and shook off the notion of it being anything more than a coincidence. His safe combination was merely happenstance. That’s all!

Ten minutes later, true to his word, Dermott was there, standing in the hall outside the exam room, looking in while Jenna finished anchoring the IV and injecting the Valium into it. Before he could speak, Jenna raised her finger to her lips, warning him to be quiet. Then she gestured to the furthest end of the hall for their rendezvous, and met him there a minute later, after she’d put an extra sheet over her patient. “Bleeding’s stopped, blood pressure’s low—ninety over sixty-five—pulse and respirations normal. And the last thing he told me before he nodded off was that I was not to call you. So, what’s that all about, Dermott? He claimed he didn’t want to interrupt you from having ice cream with Max, which might be true, except he threatened to drive for two hours to find another doctor, and that’s just absurd.”

“People here don’t want to disturb me. After my wife died I cut back on my hours so I’d have more time with Max. People here respect that, and try to help me do it. That’s all it is. Nothing devious. Nothing secretive. They just want to help me.”

“Maybe. Although making a trip to Muledeer when you’re in Mr. Wilkerson’s condition still doesn’t make any sense.” It would be nice to think that people could be that caring, though.

Dermott shrugged, but didn’t respond. “Is the wound clean, or jagged?”

Apparently, the topic was closed, if not in discussion then most certainly in the body language Dermott was putting up. Stiff shoulders, deep scowl, impatient eyes. Secretive or not, it was strange. “Good, clean edges. Looks like one slice.”

“Any tissue compromise that you could see?”

“No, and his sensory perceptions are intact. Good feeling all the way around.”

“Anything out of the ordinary?”

Except the doctor? Or the stubborn patient? “Do you really want me to tell you what’s out of the ordinary here, Dermott? Because I’d be happy to.”

Dermott leaned in, smiling. “One of the things I always liked most about you, JJ, was your feistiness. You always did speak your mind, even when no one wanted to hear it. In fact, isn’t that what got you here?”

“Believe me, Dermott. This isn’t feisty. Whether or not you want to hear this, I’m curious and a little angry that a man with a serious condition might have killed himself because he didn’t want to interrupt his doctor’s trip to the ice-cream parlor. And I’m concerned that the doctor’s not more concerned than I am.”

“Oh, I’m concerned. But I can’t control the people in Fort Dyott. They’re going to do what they want to do and I have to respect that. This is small-town medicine and it comes with rules you’re not used to.”

“Rule number one, no matter where you are, is to save your patient, Dermott. But your patient seems to think it would be an imposition on the doctor.” OK, so she wasn’t ready to give up on it. She was stubborn. She admitted it. And she wanted to know, darn it!

“You always were a fierce advocate, Jenna. That’s what makes you such a good nurse.”

He used to be a fierce advocate, too. So what had happened to change that in him? “Your equipment is at Isaiah’s bedside. I’ve got portable oxygen standing by, just in case, and he’s sedated. I’ve also got an antibiotic ready.” All the things a good surgical nurse would do, and she was a good surgical nurse. Also a perplexed one. “So you’re ready to go, any time you want to start.” Jenna handed Dermott his magnifying goggles, then stepped back and folded her arms across her chest.

Dermott let out a low whistle. “Feisty and stubborn. It’s aged well on you, Jenna. Better than I could have hoped for.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you haven’t changed a bit. And I still like it!”

“So, how’s he doing?” Jenna asked.

“The sedative has him settled in for a little while. I left a message for his wife to come get him, and told her there’s no hurry. That he’s fine, and snoring away like a broken chainsaw.”

“You did a good job, Dermott.” It had been nice watching him work again, even for something relatively simple.

“Just a few stitches. You could have done them yourself.”

“I don’t overstep my job. There was a physician on call, so it wasn’t my place to do that.” Jenna dropped down onto the brown leather couch across from Dermott’s desk and knew right off she could spend the night there, it was so comfortable. It was a nice office. Rugged, manly. Something that suited him. “So let me get something straight. You do take emergency calls when you’re away from the office, don’t you? You don’t really make people go all the way over to Muledeer?”

“Of course I don’t. I’m on call around the clock.”

“Even though the people here don’t want to bother you with their emergencies?”

“Believe me, most people will bother me. You’ll find out soon enough. But Isaiah…he’s his own special breed of ornery. Nice man who has a real soft spot for children, and he didn’t want to interrupt my evening out with Max. Like I told you before, that’s all it is, Jenna. Don’t read more into it than that.”

Maybe that was the case, but Dermott was visibly uncomfortable with this discussion. She knew his body language, and the tight way he held himself and twisted away from her was practically screaming that he didn’t want to discuss this. So she wouldn’t. There was something more here, but she was the outsider and it was quite clear, even with Dermott, that she wasn’t going to be let in. So she scooted herself to the edge of the couch and pushed herself up. “I’d like to be friends again, Dermott.”

“We are friends,” he said.

“Are we?”

“What gives you the idea that we’re not?”

So many things did, but she wasn’t in the mood to deal with that now. Maybe the professional approach was best. Keeping her distance certainly wouldn’t get her into any trouble and, for once, that was probably a good idea. “Look, I’m going to go sit with Mr. Wilkerson until his wife comes to get him.” And try not to think about anything. Including Dermott. Including this whole, peculiar situation about his medical practice.

Jenna discovered a tin of tea-bags in her little pantry, and that’s all she needed. She wasn’t sleepy, wasn’t even hungry now, although she hadn’t eaten for a while. Tea was enough, however, so she filled the teakettle and sat it on the stove top, then plopped down in the old chair in the corner, still trying not to think about anything. Especially not about Dermott. She didn’t want to pass judgment on anything so early into their professional relationship, although she was afraid his ill-sorted state of affairs here was already clouding her judgment a bit.

She did want to fight her way through her skepticism, though, and keep an open mind. Meaning she wasn’t making any firm decisions yet. Because she did want this to work for her. For once, a little stability sounded good. So did staying in a place she didn’t consider a temporary stopover on her way to the next temporary stopover. It was like she lived her life from moment to moment, and that’s all there was, a string of unrelated moments. But now that she was here, she seemed to want connection in a way she’d never wanted it before, even though she was afraid of it.

As the tea kettle began whistling, Jenna listened to the shrill pitch of it, actually savoring the way it drilled right through her brain. She’d been in such a fog lately. Sometimes it felt like her entire life was all foggy. Yet she always wanted to believe there was something more, something better. Something clear and bright ahead for her.

Right now she was pinning some hope on Dermott being clear and bright, and she wasn’t quite ready to give up on it. They’d been great together once. Physician and nurse working beautifully alongside each other on the job on the one hand. Man and woman relating beautifully outside the job on the other. Neither of those relationships had been explored thoroughly enough to draw any conclusions, though, which was a regret that had come to mind so many times over the years. They’d had their fling, spent a few lovely nights…It had been on the verge of a relationship, she’d give it that much. But that’s all it had been—on the verge. Because that’s all she’d allowed. All she’d wanted.

Well, it was on the verge again, but not personally this time, as she was older, wiser. Much more experienced. Yet, as discouraged as she was over the prospects of Dermott’s medical practice merely fizzling out from a lack of activity, which would put her right back on the road to the next temporary stop, she wasn’t going to give up on it. In fact, to prove to herself that this arrangement could work, maybe she’d go ahead and unpack her undies after she had her tea. Yes, that’s exactly what she’d do. Unpack her undies, move in fully. It was symbolic of hope, wasn’t it? Or of committing herself to something more than temporary.

Permanence. It had a nice feel to it. Worried her. Caused a little panic, too, just thinking about it. But it’s what she so desperately wanted, even though she didn’t know how to get it for herself. Hadn’t wanted to, because permanence wasn’t permanent. “Permanence,” she whispered. Then whispered it a second and third time to see how it felt.

If felt rickety. She wasn’t sure she could trust it. How many times before had she convinced herself she was in the right situation only to find out she wasn’t? Permanence. Not to be trusted, she decided. But this time?

Time would tell, she supposed.

Forcing herself to shake off her glum mood, Jenna pulled herself out of the chair, and plodded into the kitchen to silence the screeching kettle and fix a cup of tea. She was on her way back to the chair with a steaming mug of cinnamon-flavored tea when a muffled knock at her door startled her.

“Jenna,” Dermott called, before she got there. “Can we talk?”

“About the job?” she asked, as she opened the door to him. She hoped so, because she wasn’t ready for any personal unveilings, revelations or confessions tonight. Especially when her undies were still packed away, their status yet to be determined.

“About us.”

“There isn’t an us, Dermott. That was a long time ago, and it didn’t go far enough to be considered anything other than a good time between two people who got along. We weren’t headed anywhere then.” He didn’t come inside. In fact, when she opened the door he stepped back and leaned against the staircase railing. It was a casual stance, arms folded across his chest, one leg crossed over the other. Casual, and utterly sexy.

Dermott chuckled. “You have your version, I have mine. And for my version, I have a couple of things for which I’d like to apologize.”

“Why?” she asked, trying to muster up a little indifference when her heart was doing the exact opposite. This was the way he’d affected her all those years ago, and nothing had changed, it seemed.

“I remembered some nice times between us, and I haven’t had much of anything nice in my life lately. Other than Max, that is. I thought having you come here would…” He shifted position, crammed his hands into his jeans pockets. “ You’re too good to be stuck in a practice like this one, and that’s my first apology. I knew that when I asked you here, but I asked you anyway because I always liked having you around. We were good together. You made me a better doctor, and that’s something I’ve remembered all these years. So when I saw you, and you said you were looking for a new position…”

So the us he wanted to talk about was professional. That was disappointing. Safe, but disappointing. “I’m the one who came running after you, remember? You offered, I declined, then changed my mind. So there’s no need to apologize, because it was my choice. And I liked working with you, too.” Better than she had with any other doctor, actually.

“You did?”

“I did. You were…different. So many of the other doctors took the nurses for granted, and you…It was like we were equals. You respected us. Gave us credit for what we knew. And you weren’t put off by suggestions, like so many doctors are.”

“Because we’re all in it together. It would be stupid not to respect someone with a different kind of experience than mine because I never know what’s going to click medically with a patient. As far as I’m concerned, every opinion counts, especially when they’re coming from a nurse who has such a good instinct for her work. To be honest, Jenna, I’d have rather had you, a nurse, at my side than just about any doctor, and it wasn’t because you’re beautiful and I enjoyed looking at you. I enjoyed your professional approach, trusted it, trusted you.” She didn’t know what to make of that because he’d never said such things in the past, but she was pleased. Surprised, and pleased. He knew her favorite ice cream, thought she was a competent professional, thought she was beautiful…so much awareness and she wasn’t sure she wanted anyone to be aware. It almost caused her some hope…hope for other things, things she was afraid to let in. “I’m sorry your times haven’t been so good lately, Dermott. I know it must be difficult raising your son alone, and…” Did he still think her beautiful? “Did you remember my birthday?” He cleared his throat. “Your birthday?” “November fourteenth. You know, eleven-fourteen.” “What makes you think I would remember your birthday?” “It’s the combination to your safe. I just thought…” Whatever she’d thought was crazy. And now the moment was on the verge of turning awkward. She could feel it, and from the strained expression on Dermott’s face, and the way he was standing straight and stiff now, he could feel it, too. Time to change the subject, find a graceful way to turn around the conversation before any more silly questions popped out. “Anyway, I’m glad I decided to come here. It seems like a nice place to live, and—”

“She was a drug addict. My wife. She abused drugs and alcohol and did bad things. It was the talk of the town before she died, still is at times. And I thought you should know because you’ll hear it from other people at some point. I was married to a woman who had serious problems that weren’t kept very quiet, or very private.”

“Oh, my…” That explained so much, and her heart did go out to him. But he wasn’t here looking for sympathy, wasn’t looking for someone to talk to. He was merely here to state a fact, and that’s how she had to take it—as a matter of fact. “I appreciate your honesty. It couldn’t have been easy for you.”

“It wasn’t. Not for either of us.” That’s all he said. Then he turned to leave.

“So what’s the other thing you came to apologize for?” she asked, not sure if she wanted to change the tone of his parting, or if she wanted to keep him there a while longer. “You did say there were a couple of things.”

He stopped, still facing away from her, then paused, as if considering whether or not he wanted to get into anything else with her, or if one truth was enough to admit. Then, finally, he turned back to face her. “Well, there was that brief but unforgettable few weeks we had…culminating with that day in the closet.” His mouth curved into a wicked smile, one that had never failed to pull her in.

“And you want to apologize for that? Because I thought it was rather good.”

“I want to apologize for it not being more than a few weeks. And I thought it was more than rather good.”

Those were memories that had always brought about a wistful sigh, followed by some very pleasant fantasies. And she, too, was sorry that those few weeks couldn’t have been followed by a few more. “It was what it was.” Lame words, because there could have been more, but she’d used their little escapade in the closet to end everything after she’d got scared by the intensity of her own feelings. “No apologies necessary.”

“So are we OK about this, Jenna? You and me working together in a practice that isn’t exactly thriving these days?”

Was this where he came right out and told her he wasn’t interested in anything other than work? Because that would be for the best. Getting the relationship on track right now so there would be no misunderstandings later on was exactly what they needed to do. Although it was a little disappointing. “I’m OK about it.

“But you’re bigger than life, Jenna. I saw that the first time I set eyes on you and I doubt you’ve changed all that much. You tackle life in a way no one else does, and I’m not sure anything I have here will suit you for very long.”

“You underestimate me, then.”

“I don’t underestimate you, Jenna. Trust me, that’s something I’d never do.”

She was flattered. But afraid of the look she saw in his eyes. This was the Dermott she used to know, but in such a different way. It was something intense, and profound. “I want to stay here, Dermott. Although the work does have to fulfill me, and I am concerned that if you’re cutting back on what you do there won’t be enough for me to do here. I’m not larger than life, and I try not to have big expectations, but my work…it’s all I have, and what I’m seeing here scares me, because you don’t have the same passion for it the way you used to.”

“The passion hasn’t died, Jenna. But the circumstances have changed, and I do have different priorities now. Max comes first in everything, and that’s the only way it can be. I’ve cut back my practice because I have to. With help, I can start growing the practice again, and it’s time to do that. But my work won’t consume me the way it did when you used to know me because I have Max now.”

She understood that, and even envied him his newfound conviction. But that didn’t alleviate all her doubts over how this could work out. Or if it would. Maybe there was an expectation creeping in, even after she’d tried so hard to keep it out. Damn it, though. This was Dermott. How could she not have expectations of some kind? Dangerous, if not deluded expectations? “One day at a time, Dermott. Maybe that’s the way we should start this. We’ll keep the expectations to a minimum and simply take it as it comes. OK?” No expectations? Yeah, right! Still, maybe unpacking only half her undies would be the smartest thing to do.

“Slow and careful,” he agreed.

She nodded. “After my last job, I’m ready to be someplace less complicated. Someplace where the people are nice. Who knows? Maybe I can get used to the less encumbered lifestyle and find that it suits me after all.”

“Less complicated?” He chuckled bitterly. “If that’s what you’re looking for, you’ve come to the wrong place because everything here is complicated, in a lot of different directions.”

“Not if the complications aren’t from one of my messes, it’s not.” She laughed, but it was a disheartened laugh. “I don’t always blurt out my frustrations to people in the elevator, but that had been a really horrible day, one of the worst in my life, and it was either blurt or kick the wall. And, trust me, with the way I was feeling I probably wouldn’t have even noticed a few broken toes.”

“That bad?”

“That stupid. I knew Admin wouldn’t change their attitudes for me, but that didn’t stop me from barging in where I wasn’t invited. They had to know how their policies affected patient care and, more than that, patient safety. I’d also talked to a reporter…”

Dermott laughed out loud. “Of course you did. Anything else wouldn’t have been pure Jenna Lawson. Any regrets for what you did?”

She shook her head. “They’re looking to hire a few more nurses now, make some administrative changes, and that’s good. So, do you want to come in for some tea? I just fixed a pot.”

“Cinnamon.”

Actually, it was cinnamon she’d found in the cupboard, wasn’t it? She hadn’t thought much about it, but cinnamon was her favorite, and probably not the most common thing to stock in a pantry where there was little else. “You remembered that, too?” Unless this was a coincidence like her birthday, she was flattered again. Ice cream, birth date, and favorite tea…

“What I remembered was that night after work, when five or six of us went to the café. You ordered cinnamon tea, and I think it was the first time I ever knew that tea came in any flavor but plain. You opened a new world for me that night.”

“So you like cinnamon tea now?” She recalled that night. He hadn’t been particularly fond of the tea after she’d convinced him to order it, and after several tastes, he’d finally traded it for a cup of coffee. Black. Plain.

“No. I still like my coffee.”

Jenna laughed. “So what new world was it that I opened?”

“If you recall, I was the only guy in the café drinking regular coffee, and that’s sort of been the lot of my life since then. People like their lattes and cappuccinos and espressos, and all those chocolate-caramel-vanilla-hazelnut-amaretto flavors in their coffees, and when you step up and order your coffee plain and black, you get a funny look from a lot of people. They practically beg you to order what they have, to be like they are, to fit into their mold or stereotype. Just one sip, you’re really going to love it. Well, I was trying my hardest to impress a pretty girl that night by drinking her hideous cinnamon tea but what I discovered was that sometimes putting on airs is too tough. In the end, depending on how it works out, you end up sentencing yourself to a lifetime of cinnamon you hate, or somewhere in the future you’ll have to admit that you were lying, which could make people wonder what else you lied about since little lies, like cinnamon tea, usually snowball. The world that opened up to me over a plain, black coffee is that it’s always best to be honest about who you are right from the start. You know, To thine own self be true. It’s one of the few things in life over which you have total control.”

Spoken like a man who’d given it a lot of thought. Was that because of his wife’s problems? she wondered. “Like you always wanted to be a small-town doctor when everybody was trying to convince you to become a surgeon?” He’d been brilliant during his surgical rotation and the offers had flooded in, but he’d turned them down. People had ridiculed him for his choice because rural medicine wasn’t in vogue. Wasn’t lucrative. Wasn’t prestigious.

“Being a surgeon, drinking cinnamon tea, it’s all the same thing. Directions that weren’t right for me.”

She liked that in him. Dermott had a strong sense of self. In her own mixed-up life, a little of that might have helped along the way. “Then would you like to come in for a glass of…?” She didn’t remember seeing anything else to serve him but she really didn’t want him to leave. “Tap water?”

“Actually, I was going to invite you down for a late supper. Max is in bed now, and I was getting ready to fix myself a grilled cheese sandwich. Since you arrived a day early and I didn’t stock you with any food, I thought the least I could do would be to slap a piece of cheese between two slices of bread and throw it in the skillet.”

“You wouldn’t be offended if I brought my cinnamon tea with me?”

He laughed. “It really is nice to see you, Jenna. I’m glad I didn’t run you off on your first day here. Heaven knows, except for my son, not much else had gone right lately. But having you here…”

There was that sad look again. It was hard imagining Dermott as a widower with a young son. But that was his reality and, now, hers. So maybe looking for bits and pieces of the Dermott she’d known years ago was a waste of time. Maybe he’d moved too far from that point for any of it to remain. If so, that would be too bad. But the past was the past, and perhaps he was remaining true to himself as he was now, and not what he used to be. In which case, getting to know him again over a grilled cheese sandwich sounded lovely. “I’m glad I’m here, Dermott. Doubts and all, I’m glad I’m here.”

“I hope so, JJ. I really hope so.”

She liked it when he called her JJ. That was the old Dermott.

“I have to call her right back,” Dermott said. “But I need to run downstairs and check her medical chart to see what her medication dose is. I think she may have taken too much, and that’s what’s causing her symptoms. Five minutes, and I’ll be right back. Then we’ll have grilled cheese.”

“Can I do anything?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been changing Mrs. Gray’s arthritis medications and she’s having some gastric upset because of it, and I suspect she’s not taking enough of the medication I prescribed to treat the side effect. Off the top of my head I could guess how many pills she’s supposed to take, but I’d rather be safe and check. Do you mind looking after Max for a few minutes?”

“Well, I make a pretty good grilled cheese sandwich myself. You go, I’ll cook. And, no, I don’t mind looking after Max.”

“Jenna Lawson, domestic.” He was chuckling on his way out the door. “I’d have never guessed.”

Making a sandwich wasn’t exactly domestic, but Jenna actually found it rather pleasant puttering around Dermott’s kitchen, and she was just about ready to put the skillet on the gas flame when she heard a shriek coming from down the hall. “Max!” she gasped, turning off the gas and running as fast as she could to the bedroom where the little boy was tossing in his bed, and crying. “No!” he cried out. “Don’t! Please, don’t!”

“Max,” she said, running straight to the bed. He was in the throes of a nightmare, and his little body was twisting in the bed. His eyes were open, he was reaching out trying to find something, or someone. Instinctively, Jenna dropped to the side of the bed and pulled the boy into her arms. But he fought her at first, pounding her with his fists, trying to get away.

“No, I don’t want to!” he screamed, thrashing, hitting. “No…no…no!”

“Max, it’s Jenna. Wake up, Max.” She gave him a little shake, but he hit her again. “Max, you’re safe. It’s Jenna, and I’m here with you. You’re safe.”

“No,” he whimpered, the fight suddenly going out of him. He was drenched in sweat, and he’d wet the bed. “I don’t want to,” he choked out. “I don’t want to.”

Jenna held him tight, stroked his head. “You’re safe,” she whispered. “Nothing’s going to hurt you. I promise, nothing’s going to hurt you.” He must have heard, because he settled down, snuggled into her arms.

“Where’s the big guy?” he sniffled. “I want the big guy.”

“He’s downstairs, talking to a patient. He’ll be here in a minute.”

“I want him right now!” He pushed away from her and, as if having second thoughts, collapsed back in her arms. “I want him,” he said, crying now.

“Shh,” she said, starting to rock him. “He’s coming right back for you, Max. He’s not going to leave you. He’ll be right back, I promise.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything. His body still shuddered though, and he clung to her as hard as he could. “If he doesn’t come back, do I have to go to Grandpa’s house?”

“He’s coming back. And I’m not going to leave you until he does.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Poor child. He was trying to be brave, but she knew what it was like to have nightmares. She’d had them. Only there’d been no one to hold her like this, no one to take care of her when she’d been so scared, and hadn’t known of what. More often than not, her father had hit her and told her to shut up.

“Max!” Dermott gasped, running through the door. He stopped short of the bed, breathless, his face drained of all color. “I heard from downstairs.”

“And we’re just fine,” Jenna said. She was still rocking back and forth with Max in her arms, stroking his hair, holding on to him as tightly as he held her. He had quieted down and seemed contented to stay right where he was. She was contented to have him there, too. “He had a bad dream, but it’s over now and he’s doing better, aren’t you, Max?”

Max nodded, but didn’t look up at his dad. His head was still tucked against Jenna’s chest, and Jenna held him protectively, the way a mother would. To anyone looking on who didn’t know, Jenna could have been his mother, the way she comforted him. Dermott saw that. Saw that she had already become a fierce protector of Max.

“Dermott, we’re going to need some fresh pajamas and sheets, if you don’t mind getting them. And I think Max would like a quick little bath before he settles back in for the night.”

Ten minutes later, after Dermott had gotten Max ready for bed again, and Jenna had changed the bedsheets, Max asked, “Can Jenna read me a story before I go back to sleep?”

“What’s your favorite one?” she asked, wondering if Dermott would prefer doing this. She gave him a questioning look, but he smiled, and nodded.

“I wouldn’t mind hearing a story from Jenna either.” Dermott sighed a huge sigh of relief and slumped down into the chair next to Max’s bed. Then he handed her a book. “This is our favorite. We especially like the part where the big, red dump truck wins the race.” He looked straight into Jenna’s eyes and mouthed the words “Thank you”, then settled back to listen to the story.

And so she read, while Max snuggled in again, and Dermott sat across from them, looking totally distracted, trying with everything he had to hold it all back.

After Max was asleep once more, and the grilled cheese sandwiches long forgotten, Dermott walked Jenna to the apartment door. “I’m sorry we put you through that. Max doesn’t have these nightmares often—they started after his mother died. But they’re so hard on him when he does.”